Tuesday 30th October

Halloween tomorrow – Megan is keen on trick or treating but has no-one to go with yet, so I phone a friend and leave a message. We wait all day and hear nothing, so Megan asks the boy down the road. Just as she’s doing so, the friend calls back and says “Of course she can come with us”. I break the news to Megan on her return, and she has to go back to the boy down the road to cancel. It shouldn’t be this hard should it?

Brody starts to get a bit peculiar after his  lunch, restless and whining. Any behaviour of this sort calls for immediate action – straight outside. He rushes straight for the ‘plant-that-used-to-be-a-beautiful-clematis-but-is-now-chewed-to-bits-and-is-very-dead’. I glare at him hoping this will prevent further chewing, but start to hear frightening noises emanating from him, the kind displayed by a cat before coughing up a fur ball. In this case, a massive gloopy grey lumpy mess. Yeuch. As soon as it’s out, I foresee what will happen next, as Brody stares hungrily at what has just appeared before him.  He makes no move away from the pile of vomit but actually voraciously devours it. I run towards him with my hand over my mouth resisting the urge to vomit myself. I try – and fail – to pull him away from the regurgitated mess. I see that the lumps in question are his undigested lunch fish pellets. DISGUSTING! I leave him to it, with the look on my face that says “You are no puppy of mine, you filthy animal.” The rest of the afternoon consists of him sleeping more than usual – poor thing. My plants obviously don’t agree with him.

When Steve gets home, Megan and I make a quick dash to the supermarket to buy sweets for tomorrow. She is mega-super-excited.

That evening, after dragging Brody away from the stairs for the millionth time (we have tried blocking it with various things but Brody treats it like a fun obstacle course and eventually gets to the bottom stair with a victorious look on his face), we reserve a stair gate to be picked up tomorrow. Can’t wait.