Take it to the Max!
Created | Updated Jan 13, 2009
A visit to Grandma
Trying to ensure that Max experiences as much as possible in his formative months, we're working on longish car journies, and being sociable. So a trip to my parents was organised. They live by the sea about 70 miles north, so the journey takes an hour and a bit. Max amused himself by watching the hypnotic rear car windscreen wiper, or by trying to freak out the driver in the car behind with a staring competition. On arrival, I kept Max on his lead until he'd had a good sniff around and got his bearings, so that he knew I was in charge and he was to be on best behaviour. My sister and her boys arrived to meet him as well, and after giving them an enthusiastic and tail-wagging welcome he settled down for a snooze on the floor, where he could be poked and stroked by all the admirers. I took this as an indication that he was comfortable and content, and we let sleeping dogs lie as we ate our lunch.
G'dumphing in the dunes
The nice thing about visiting my parents is that they live in Portstewart, home to one of the most fabulous stretches of beach in all of Ireland, with a couple of miles of golden sand, crashing Atlantic surf and the hills of Inishowen on the horizon. It was a bitterly cold December day, the waves were powerful and had a halo of spray on them, and the sky was granite grey. Marvellous! He does enjoy a good romp by the sea - loves the smell of bits of seaweed, and chasing thrown branches of driftwood. But he's really in his element in sand dunes, where he can g'dumph (our invented onomatopaeic word for his crashing, long-limbed and speedy galloping) up hill and down dale through the marram grass to his heart's content.
What big teeth you've got!
He's teething. He chews everything, including arms, legs and other bits of the anatomy within his reach (painful!) My forearm is decorated with little bruises and nips where he's had a go. He's also drooling a lot more, so I make sure I'm not in my best suit when we're playing together. Cubes of ice seem to go down well - they're cooling for any painful gums, and he enjoys the crunchy noise they make. And then there are the little teeth that have fallen out, scattered about the place. I'm collecting them, but haven't decided yet whether to place them under his blanket to see if there's a canine tooth fairy, or have them bronzed.
Morning has broken
Although the ultra-sonic barking deterrent has had SOME positive effect, he still tends to wake anywhere between 5.00 and 5.30am. We had been putting in earplugs and ignoring until 6.30, but after a few bangs on the wall from the doctor next door I feel that "just let him bark" isn't really an option. So we take it in turns to get up, let him out, and then curl up on the sofa with him and a cuddly fleecy throw - that way everyone gets an approximation of enough sleep, and we're still on speaking terms with the neighbours.
