I didn’t sleep an awful lot last night, nothing to do with the new dog Dillon, he was really well behaved. They both started the night on the couch, later Sasha went to her usual bed. I went down at about 3AM and let them out, Sasha went straight back upstairs and Dillon back on the couch. By 4AM I was very grouchy and ill. I made a hot lemon for myself and let everyone out again. When I got back upstairs Dillon was fast asleep on my side of the bed, as this was his first night and he seemed very comfortable I moved to the spare bedroom, which as it turns out was a blessing in disguise as I managed to get some sleep.

This morning though I posted in sick as my eyes couldn’t focus, which is bloody useless when you’re trying to look at a monitor for more than ten minutes, plus my head wasn’t really with it all bunged up. My throat was absolutely killing, this brought bad some very odd memories….

When I was about eight years old, we’d just moved into Cranbrook Road. I was unpacking all my stuff into wardrobes which currently had no doors on as they had just been built. I was at Junior school at the time (yes the same one I visited a few weeks ago). I couldn’t find my Hymn book, we were all told we’d need it the following week or we’d have to buy a new one (the actual figure sticks in my mind as well as it was in big writing in a circle on the front cover, it was 75P). I searched through all the cupboards and I couldn’t find it. Dad started throwing various shelves of stuff everywhere, getting in a complete piss. I started crying, I remember I was by the window at the time. He then glared at me and picked me up by my throat, then through me about 16 feet across the room, I hit the far wall. About 22 years later when he was in bed dying and I was hand feeding him stuff from a pot, I asked him if he could recall the incident, he said he couldn’t specifically, but, ‘I’d probably deserved it’. I looked back at him, at that point I thought the exact same thing about him.

Dillon and Sasha have had their first full day together, as I was ill this has been slightly skewed. Jamie had the day booked off though, so he took Sasha out first followed by Dillon. They both seemed fairly happy. For the rest of the day they have gone between playing, eating bones and sleeping. I had no problems at breakfast or tea times, both went to their respective bowls, afterwards, they both checked each others to make sure there were no remains. There have been a couple of growls today, but mainly where Sasha has got tired and tried to hide under the bed and he’s come along and wound her up. I’ve now trained him to sit, stay and beg. As I write this dribbling in my own mucus lying on the bed, Dillon is by the bedroom door, flat out on his side asleep and Sasha is a couple of feet behind him, flat out on her bed. So all happy families.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be feeling better and someone less resentful to past family members. It’s Natalie’s funeral on Saturday.