doglets

Throughout Kato illness we did the bargaining thing. One more Christmas (we got two), one more Landmark with people she feels content with (Martello Tower with J &S), one more summer, one more walk with people she adores (thanks G & J) one more visit from P&B so she could chew P’s beard (we had several), one more science defying back from the brink (she did a few) and she saw me through my cancer.

But at the end, it comes down to one more day, one more hour, just five more minutes. What I wouldn’t give to just rest my face on her soft head and inhale that wonderful, warm smell of Kato. Kato never grew up, the eternal puppy, so it feels like she went too soon and we have to remind ourselves that she was 12.5

Losing her has left a huge gap, the house feels too big and the future feels strange.

The entire cast of Wind in the Willows neighbour hipsters were all cardiganed up, bearding around their bins.

“Brown bin only tomorrow” I said wisely, though they never actually take their bins in. Bin Mavericks – probably some obscure hipster band I’ve never heard. I felt Kato prickling at the end of the lead as she went through her Friends List. Canine Brain compared the hipster to the ten people on her friends list.

There was a click and a whirr from inside Canine Deep Thought as she hovered over her three Simons. She moved on remembering none of her Simons have ever been seen in a genuine Dad cardigan with fake leather elbow patches.

A hipster raised his hand.

“He’s Got A Gun!” yelped Kato and engaged full doing it in her pants defensive. Her spine fur stegosaurus style as if she had been electrocuted “Oops, my bad, kebab tray”

“Sorry” I said “Take no notice of her, so it’s brown bin when you’re in any doubt and with the grey bin, I find if I crush my boxes...Ouch Kato! Sorry, she must really need the loo”

Kato pulled impatiently at the lead.

“That wasn’t nice Kato” I said “Are you really so desperate to poo?”

“Saving you from yourself, striking up conversations about bins with people under the age of 25” said Kato

A young Lolly visited. Labrador / Collie Cross, cute wiggly playful thing called Dotty. Kato immediately sulked and loudly barked at the Whore Dog Intruder. This is Princess Kato Zone and other dogs must not be cuter or have any attention.

Dotty did her play dead trick and then wrestled a tennis ball.

“Amazing” swooned Frodi having a quick groom with his back paw.

“Pathetic” snarked Kato and continued woofing her displeasure at Dotty.

Kato was evicted into the garden. Frodi invited Dotty to see his etchings, one of his earlier works on the living room door called Separation Anxiety.

Kato was bouncing up and down shouting Flea Ridden Slag Bitch and He Touches Sheep through the window.

I’m afflicted so Kato Walks have been contracted out to freelancers. Frodi likes a walk but can survive without but Kato gets terrible cabin fever.

Yesterday, I ventured outside for a potter round the garden.  A massive sun parasol brolly thing had fallen over our side of the wall from the church next door and was resting on its side. Kato gave the new thing in the garden a wide berth. Frodi was on his wee-round, raspberry bushes, cherry tree stump, brick thing, the place where half a dead pigeon was once found, any dandelions that give him side-eye.

Frodi was running his nose along the fallen Massive Parasol, “Haha” I said “Looks like Jodrell Bank down the garden Frodi...FRODI...oh fook”

I realised Frodi’s interest was not for Space Observation

“OMG” I lettered

I was running, well walking, as fast as a woman just two weeks out of surgery could muster.  Frodi lifted his back left, I was calling out “Nooooooooo”. The world had gone into slow motion.  This is probably in the ten commandments, in the small print of number nine, the one about neighbours that no one ever remembers, thou shalt not urinate on the Lord's UV Patio Umbrella.
"Fro....deeeeee......noooooooo"
Frodi hesitated but was just calculating his angle of delivery, I mustered harder, I wasn’t going to make it....so I threw the nearest thing to hand which was a deflated football. It missed Frodi but bounced off the parasol and hit Kato, luckily this distracted Frodi who lowered his leg.

“Stop staring! Putting me off” scowled Kato

“You so funny when you poo” I laughed “You look like a frog-with-rickets”

I carried on walking. Kato caught me up.

“I’ve pooed” she said scraping her paws to clean them.
"Where? Ohhh...Kato!"

Kato smirked in the direction of some vicious brambles and nettles, then sat watching as I delicately bagged up.

“Ow...ffs, damn nettles” I grumbled “Talk about a double bagger...ewww...what you been eating anyway?”

“So” said Frodi “We’re not married after all?”

“Nope” replied Kato

“We’re not Mr and Mrs I-am-Microchipped”

“No, that’s not why it says it on our ID tags”

“We’ve got microchips in our necks” he pondered “Sounds far-fetched to me Katrina”

“That’s what human said”

“So we’re like Stepford Dogs”

“Yep, totally obedient” said Kato “That’s why we’re compelled to obey and if we abscond we get put through a supermarket checkout to get our unique bar code...or something”

Human: Dogs here... DOGS...KATO...FRODI...HERE...HERE

Frodi: Think we should see what she wants

Kato: Nah, fight the chip Man, we’re not numbers we are free dogs

Human: Kato...Froodle ...FFS... any dog...the neighbour’s dog...well don’t have these discarded chips then...oh there you are...

Our vets is a specialist for bulldogs. The waiting room sometimes sounds like a Steam Rally event with all the bullies chuffing away.

“Sit” said an owner to his portly looking bully who looked like he needed ironing or at least a few minutes in a trouser press “Sit!”

“How would you even know?” said Kato staring at the bull dogs squat bowed Georgian table legs “Can’t even tell which end is the head and which end is...”

“Don’t finish that sentence” I said

Looking at the rolls of bulldog draped over his creaky frame, Kato has a point, his front end and back end were very similar.

The bulldog snorted and got into something resembling a “sit” but it was more of a “splaaaat” with pools of dogness rippling around him. He looked like he’d partially melted.

The door opened and in came man in a wheelchair with his assistance Rottweiler. Kato actually smiled. Last time she met Assistance Rotty, she found him a calm, soothing presence.

To our surprise Rotty stared down a pug and gave a terse “Fuck you” in the face of a white polar bear dog. This it seemed, was son of assistance rotty, still in training, just hitting adolescence and not always getting his salutations correct.

“MILF!” barked the rotty when he spotted Kato. Kato looked aghast and intently read the small print on posh medical dog food.

“Oy, sexy lady, bet you’re up for it” said the juvenile rotty then turned to the portly bulldog “Do one squash face, I saw her first”

“I think he’s trying to get your attention” I said to Kato

“Lamb bone meal” read Kato “0.15% fructooligosaccharides”

“I’ve got some bone meal here for you hot paws” grunted the rotty straining at his leash

Our vet appeared, Kato shot in the examination room.

It was a positive vet visit, just a re-prescription and a marvel that it’s almost one year since Kato was diagnosed with mast cell cancer. She's mostly very well with just the odd tummy upset. She rarely needs her pain killers.

The Feds were clip-boarded up doing house-to-house enquiries. A Fed spotted me and gave me a cheery wave.

“Shit” I muttered knowing Kato’s attitude to strangers “Just be nice”

“Can I go off lead?” asked Kato spotting a window of opportunity

“No, because you’ll go in someone’s garage again and embarrass me. Just don’t growl and stuff”

“Stuff?”

“The telepathic sock puppet thing – don’t do that” I muttered “Hello officer”

“Are you local?” he asked

“No, guilty, I mean yes” I stammered, acutely conscious of the psychic Kato mind melding and projecting League of Gentleman images. I was a Local Dog Walker for Local...

“Is he friendly?” asked the police officer

“Yes, I mean not really, well strangers, no”

Kato put her back left paw on top of her head so she could wash her Mary. Not being as spritely as she once was she toppled over.

The PC said they were in the area making the community aware of home security. Kato sat up to go through her object identification index. Kato was rummaging in the part of her brain marked “Chewables” and comparing him to a honking mallard she once owned. Kato inhaled the Police Mans shoe. I tugged her lead.

“Bacon” said Kato but luckily it just sounded like a low growl. I gave her a gentle kick. Kato grumbled something that sounded like "Animal Welfare Act 2006"
"Good guarder" said the PC, gave me a leaflet and said something about anything suspicious.
Kato was bored of identifying and was now doing a retching cough.

“She’s been on the grass” I explained and immediately blushed wondering if the PC might think I meant illegal grass type substance and stupidly added “Field grass”

Kato walk be like DFS. It’s new sofa season. We passed four discarded sofas. Kato was drawn to a lavish looking plum sofa. Part of its bed mechanism  was sticking through the cushions surrounded by an ominous stain. Death by sofa bed, we’ve all been there. I’ve never been stabbed by our sofa bed but I have nearly been crushed by its “snap in place” kung fu mechanics. Our two old blue sofas including the homicidal snap dragon sofa will also soon be released into the wilds to await capture by the council.

KGB cat was sat on the back of a beige leather sofa.

“Still wearing his festive Christmas collar” I remarked to Kato “That’s bad luck after the 6^th of Jan”

“You want to see me with ladders” smirked KBG cat