As a broody woman, with a ticking biological body clock might dream about a newborn baby, I am dreaming about a puppy. A very specific kind of puppy. A little miniature schnauser. They are SO cute!
I have to say that my affinity didn’t always lie with this particular breed, I went through a phase where I was quite partial to a little Yorkie Poo. He would be called Scruffy.
This name doesn’t suit the more esteemed gentleman like miniature schnauser, so he would be called Mr Scruff. Or I could have a cat and dog combo, called Dolly and Kenny. Yes, I have spent time thinking about this.
While out wedding dress shopping with Missy G the other day I spotted a very cute little shop by Sloane Square called Mungo and Maude. This shop was a broody puppy girl’s dream. I entered, just as a newly pregnant mother might enter Baby Gap. I wandered around, trailing my fingers over little doggy treats, leather beds with big fluffy cushions, leads, bones and books -all products that celebrate the joy of puppydom. There weren’t all aspects of the puppy experience there though, no chewed up shoes, or pee and poop on the floor – this was a zen puppy experience. The shop assistant was watching me like I was going to try and hustle the dog bed into my small bag. She asked if she could help but I replied that I was happy just browsing. She left me in my puppy reverie for another 30 seconds and then asked if I had a dog. Oh fark, BUSTED! I don’t have one, and she knew it! Was that a look of pity in her eyes? Does she know my lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to a canine companion? I blushed furiously and stammered that my friend had a dog and I was looking for a present.
I gave the shop one last look, like nothing here was fit for my puppy gift requirements, swept my dignity into my handbag and walked outside into the sunshine. Back to my puppy-less world.