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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

Just in case you missed the mention in the comments below, Puppy has been rechristened "Bobby". This my mother announced on her arrival home yesterday afternoon. Apparently she'd been pondering on it for most of the morning, and decided that Dutch doesn't really suit him (it doesn't) and that Bobby does (it doesn't). I said we needed a good long backstory in order for the name to work, because all of our pets have arrived at their names through convoluted steps and leaps. She couldn't think of one, talking some nonsense about red-red-robins that come bob-bob-bobbing along, and that it was Christmas. I suggested calling him Jesus, because he's not just for Christmas (this is a John Hegley joke, but I passed it off as my own) but Mum just rolled her eyes and walked slowly away from me.

Last night, she was on the phone to her sister, telling her about the new puppy and how he sits on your feet and lies on his back and is frightened by but also fascinated with the cats, and how he chews everything in sight, and my aunty asked if he was called Bobby to match with Kesh. Mum didn't understand the leap. Neither did I. My aunt, who is a patient 50-something Protestant lady explained the connection.

Kesh - Long Kesh Prison - IRA hunger strikers - Bobby Sands

Holy crap. My mother's a secret republican. Tomorrow we're getting a pair of budgies called Gerry and Martin.

So Bobby he is for now, anyway. The hilarity of this was increased ten-fold by our pointing out to everyone that will listen that he's actually black and tan in colour.

I learned last night to my cost - the cost of a small puppy teddy bear, my new comfy bedthrow and a plastic bottle - that Bobby loves to chew things. Anything. Anything at all, especially if it appears to have value. Particularly especially if that value is emotional rather than monetary. I can already sense that shoes will be lost to his wandering jaw and short attention span. He's also freaked out by television - if he walks in to a room and the television is on, he starts barking in a very high pitched and urgent manner until the television is turned off, or until he's handed something to chew. Once he's got something to chew, the devil himself could be preaching from the television, and Bobby would remain happily unperturbed.

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