A Little Extra: My Name is Candy

Since adopting our two little girls from Lynne and James, nearly a year ago now, I have stayed in contact with them both.  I especially enjoy the emails I receive from Lynne in which she tells me all about little things that the girls used to get up to when they were living with them, or better still, when she sends me photos of the pair before I knew them.  In turn, Lynne enjoys reading my blog as it lets her know that her little girlies have settled perfectly well into a life here and are happy and contented with their new family.  She also notes when I am busy (well up to my tonsils in fact) as the blogs become a bit scarcer, so she took the time over the past couple of weeks to ghostwrite a post from 'Candy' for me to include in my blog. 

For me it was a delight as I was enchanted to hear Candy's story from her own mouth…..

MY NAME IS CANDY

A while ago, my goodie-goodie sister, Kerry, decided to help our mummy, Mary, who was a bit behind on her blog writing, by writing her own blog called My Name is Kerry.

To show I am not as daft as I sometimes appear, and generally act, I have decided to write my own.

In the beginning

When I arrived at the family home in 2007, my sister Kerry was already there, and seemed a giant – she could get my head inside her mouth! I was told that she was 10 weeks older then me (about twice my age then), and that, as we came from the same father, and our mothers who were sisters, they expected another little angel like Kerry. Sorry to have been such a disappointment!

When we were  just pups.  I think Kerry loved me from the start??

On the day after I arrived, my big sister was showing me round the garden, when I suddenly found myself in the swimming pool – at the deep end. I can’t say I remember being pushed, but I have always had my suspicions! Fortunately, my then mummy, Lynne, came rushing down, and scooped me out of the pool, then wrung me out!  Since then, both my sister and I have avoided water like the plague!

Once I settled in

Once I began to grow, and Kerry stopped putting my head in her mouth, life became good, and we spent a lot of time chasing round the garden, chasing birds, barking at whatever was inside the two old olive trees, and going out.

The olive trees held special delights

When we were ushered into Lynne’s C3, we knew we were going walkies in the country or on the beach, but when our harnesses were put on, and we were manhandled into the big Volvo, we knew were going out to the Marina for coffee, where we could wander round the various stalls, and see the dog-life around.

The unkindest cut

When we were two, we were taken to the vets – individually – to have an operation to remove our sex drive. Painful, initially, but at least the male dogs no longer sniff round us!  Looki tried once or twice, but never again.

How I get on with my sister

She’s OK; a bit bossy at times, but, after seven years, we look after each other, along with our brother, Looki. Kerry used to be especially bossy when we went for walks near the house. I used to sniff fox or rabbit trails, and go crashing through the undergrowth, and eventually, after calling me for ever, and me ignoring them, I would hear the words “Kerry, go find Candy”, and know that the game was up. I made it as difficult as possible for her, but eventually, the moment for reckoning arrived, and she would tell me off, in no uncertain terms!

She can be a bit bossy, but Kerry is lovely and soft to cuddle up next to.

Escape from Colditz

The first couple of years, I was quite happy to stay in the garden, but then, I began to wonder what was outside it – there were a lot of noises, and movements and I decided to investigate.

Often, the front gate was left open, but neither my sister nor I deigned to use it, as it seemed beneath our terrier dignity.

Kerry proved not to be much of a terrier, and it was usually left to me to dig the holes, move bricks, wood, fencing, etc., and then, if she could squeeze her fatter body through it, my sister would follow.  Normally, we would just go out of the garden, wander about outside and then come back, either through the hole we had made, or if not, via the front gate – if it was open, we would just wander in, if it was not, we would wait till someone saw us.

Eventually, I got bolder, and started to stay out overnight. At first, Lynne and James would wait for me, but eventually they gave up, and would go to their beds, leaving the front gate open, and I would wander back at my leisure, and go to sleep on the seats outside.

When we moved to the other house, it was too well contained to get out, but when we moved back, I was at it again, despite the various defences increasingly put up to contain me.

Holidays

James worked away a lot of the time, and Lynne often went to see him or our uncle and auntie. When that happened we used to go to Cozy Kennels, where we had our own special cage and then to Glynis and Ian’s, which we always enjoyed as there were always another five or six small dogs of our own size.

I'd be lost without my sister.

And now

We moved to Mary’s house last year, and now live with her and Looki, our brother. We all get on well together, but Looki and I get into more scrapes than Kerry. We are all very happy together. 

(I wonder if they’ll print this?)

(Copyright:  Lynne and Candy)

Deep Clean February

Last night all the Westies were in bed before me.  This is not the normal course of events as they are usually respectful of my position as pack leader and wait at least until I have one foot under the duvet before making a dash for their favoured spots, but last night for some reason they were all eager to get themselves tucked up early.  I brushed my teeth and prepared for bed and then attempted to thread myself in under the duvet which was firmly gripped on one side by Candy and on the other by Kerry and about halfway down, where my knees should be, Looki was spread out like butter in the sun.  I ended up with my head crushed against the wall which was not very comfortable as the wall is somewhat rough in texture and we never got round to a headboard.  My legs were crossed like a badly broken scarecrow and my arms were pinned tight to my sides.  So I rudely turned over and pulled the duvet.  Dogs rolled and grudgingly moved about a bit and I managed to get myself into a reasonably comfortable position for sleep.

There is always a dog somewhere looking for a cuddle

It was not to be.  Just as I was dropping off all the dogs jumped up as if electrified and, leaping off the bed, started sniffing and scratching furiously around the window, under the chest of drawers and in the bathroom.  What on earth was going on?  I had horrible visions of a huge spider, a mouse, a cockroach or…..?  I switched on the bedside light.  I could see or hear nothing.  "It's nothing." I said.  "Lets go back to bed."  I took the opportunity to spread myself very quickly all over the bed though before they all hopped up again.  Once again I was just drifting away to the land of nod when they all jumped up and starting barking and running around like lunatics.  This time I heard it.  It was a great big, lazy bluebottle.  "It’s a bluebottle you nitwits." I said "and it's a dying bluebottle," I added.  This seemed to do the trick and thereafter we all slept like babies until the morning.  They can be reasoned with at times.

As February draws to a close I look back over the past weeks that have disappeared in a veritable blur.  February turned out to be a sorting and clearing month in the end, not quite what I had expected or planned.  Productive, though not yet completed, though the mountain is not so impossibly high now.

What on earth is she talking about?  You may wonder. 

Well, after splitting up with my Victor at Christmastime I spent January rather in the doldrums wondering which way to turn.  Come the start of February however, I was beginning to get the bit back between my teeth and plotting and planning the next part of my life with some alacrity. 

The first thing that I thought I should do was to attack the last few outstanding jobs on the house to finish it off once and for all.  These include completion of the ceiling in the front bedroom and repairing and renovating the façade of the house.  So I contacted our builder and asked him for his quotes.  These duly came in, along with the outstanding bill for our fourth electrician.  I totted them all up, fainted, pulled myself back together and then had a chat with Vic about them.  We still need to address these things together as we are in the process of selling the house.  For both our sakes we need to get the best price possible to enable each of us to buy a tiny little home out of the proceeds.  All of our money is tied up in this house, even though that was something I swore I would never let happen.

We both put our cards on the table honestly and openly regarding our finances and I did some more sums and then contacted our lawyer as we also need to get our paperwork in order to sell the house.  At the moment the Escritura (deeds) to the house do not reflect the extension we have built on, so these have to be updated.  Our lawyer sent me a list of all the things I will need to do as well as estimated costs so I had to do yet more sums.  I fainted once more, but came round again quite quickly.  It turns out we cannot afford to do everything, but I have decided that it is more important to get the paperwork in order first as that may take some time.  Everything here takes ages to do, especially anything that involves paperwork and the Town Hall.  Though amazingly the first piece of paper that I had to acquire, my Nota Simple, was ready for collection within 24 hours.  So it can be done, but not all offices here are created equal.

While discussing things with Nuria (our lovely lawyer) I had to find and email her various documents and of course was confronted with the usual stack of files and folders that have found their way into my life over the past few years in Spain, not to mention the files and folders that I had accumulated before that while still living in Ireland.  In addition to my own files I also inherited the files and folders of my parents.  My mother died in 1990 and my father in 2003.  I have been carrying a lot of paper for a very long time.  So without thinking about it too much at first I began sorting through the first stack of drawings, notes and documents which included electricity bills and telephone bills, receipts for garden forks and lawnmowers and even payslips dating back to the 1980s!  I never throw anything away it would appear!  Before I knew it I was up to my neck in old chequebook stubs and warranties for things I no longer possess.  That bank account has long since been closed.

Art college (1995-2000) created an enormous amount of drawings (most of them really bad) that I never threw away and also created lots of source books and notebooks which I have now revamped with the drawings, notes and doodles that have some virtue, pasted over the older, really sad, drawings that I had done and thought were wonderful at the time, but on reflection were shite.  Some books and folders have just been thrown away in their entirety.

Then I started on the letters.  That proved more difficult as I had to read them all first.  Some were really good so I am glad that I took the time.  We have a long history as a family of letter writers, but still they had to go.  It is just not healthy to hold on so much to the past.  In addition to the letters that people wrote to me over the years I also had inherited (remember that) all the letters that my mother had kept and filed under various headings:  Mary, Patricia, Josephine and Misc Friends to name the main protagonists.  

Initially I asked Jo if she would receive her own stack of letters to dispose of as I thought it far too much of a responsibility to burn hers as well as my own, but in the end I became ruthless and just chucked them on the fire (with her permission of course).  I thought I could just throw my own file away without reading any of the letters, but when it came to it I had to read each one and relive my own awkward past.  I also read some of my mother's to me, not all, but I think I was just getting tired by then and her handwriting is quite difficult to read, not to mention the fact that it embarrassed me that I had been such a twerp and yet she was very patient with me.

I do not think that the Westies have been that impressed with my February works.  I think they much preferred when I was plodding through listless January and spending a lot more time sitting on the couch watching DIY shows and Celebrity Big brother (the Spanish version in which I know absolutely none of the Z-list participants, but really, do I want to?)

Last Saturday I decided to sweep through the house, vacuum the carpets and wash the floors.  The dogs were of no assistance whatsoever and as usual I ended up with one or two Westie-shaped unwashed patches on the otherwise clean floor.  Yes, I know all I really need to say is, "Candy! Move!"  But in reality it just doesn’t seem to matter much if I miss a small bit of the floor.  It will get done the next time round, after all the floors need cleaning quite often.  It felt good to get the place aired and washed and fired me on to finish "The Great February Purge"

There are still large boxes of paper all around the place.  I am staring at one overflowing here in the office and another is down beside the fire, it makes for very good firelighting in the evening, but never seems to get emptied as the next day sees me cutting and throwing out again. 

Dogs amidst the chaos in my office

And I also have all the photos to sort through yet…oh and did I mention my mother's postcard collection?  March may well be spoken for too.

And of course the Westies demand my attention constantly.  When I come home from school in the evening and finally settle down on the couch they descend on me like a swarm of gnats and if they think they are being neglected in any way they push me or prod me with noses or paws until I rub their bellies for them. 

Dogs are very ingenious - for example, using the box of waste paper by the fire to be really cute!

They invent ingenious new tactics to gain attention all the time too.  For instance the other evening they all decided to go out for a sniff in the garden.  Looki came back first and knocked at the door.  I let him in.  Then Candy gave one little woof at the door to be let in.  So I did.  Kerry did not show up for a long time, but then I 'sensed' her presence on the other side of the door.  When I opened it I reeled in horror.  She was smeared from ear to tail with soft, fresh, smelly poo!  She looked rather pleased with herself if the truth be known.  It was of course up to the bathroom immediately for a shower.  I gave her a good scrubbing and dried her.  The other two lay happily curled up on the bathmat while I sorted their sister out.  I think she enjoyed all the fuss and attention just for her.  They all do.  I hope she does not try it again any time soon, though she was lovely and fluffy afterwards I must say!

Meanwhile the sun is getting stronger and the days are getting longer.  There is a grand stretch in the evening and it is still light now when I get home from work which puts a spring in my step.  Very soon I will be able to take the dogs out for an evening stroll on my return.  They will like that and they will like it even more when all the paper sorting is finished and I can return to more creative activities.  I am sure they will enjoy it more when I start writing short stories again or making little sculptures in the evening…. No, I think they will be happiest when we can go up to the forest every weekend or when we can just lounge in bed in the mornings or spend all afternoon snuggled up together on the couch, that is, if I can squeeze my way in.