STRANGE TIMES, FOR SURE.

You hear a lot of people saying it, but we do indeed live in strange times.  For us, as a family, we were under a lot of pressure to get certain priorities dealt with before the Coronavirus' effects seriously hit.  For instance, getting Basil the Jack Russell to the vet for repeat prescriptions and learning what to do about getting successive prescriptions for him if the crisis worsened, getting Peggy the Bedlington home from the RSPCA shelter (which we did with a couple of weeks to spare) and organising and carrying out the buying of a new car and selling of our current old faithful, amongst other priorities.

Well, we managed the car thing with unbelievable speed.  I am one of those people who doesn't like to attempt to multitask, I like to deal with one priority at a time and give it all the thought and attention it requires, checking and double checking that I'm doing stuff right.  It might take me months to think about the issue - particularly if it involves anything anxiety-inducing - making sure I have my head around what it is going to require and making sure I am ready for the stressful bits.  I will be the first to agree that this is otherwise known as prevaricating.  My hubby, Steve, is slightly similar in that he likes to research and plan the process through, but he is one of those who likes to just get on with it and adjust the plan as we go.  Well that scares me to death, so I'm afraid he's had to learn to chivvy me just enough to not make me dig my heels in, whilst proceeding at a slower than he would like pace.

Aaanyway, finally all that was left for us to do was the car thing.  So I set myself to searching for "the" car much in the same way as I searched for "the" dog - I looked up as many online points of reference for used cars as I could find and bookmarked the possibles that were within our price range.  Then hubby and I would compare notes and chuck out the ones that weren't likely or sensible for whatever reason - including checking their MOT history, which is a brilliant way of finding out just how reliable a car is likely to have been and how carefully it has been looked after.

We'd been doing this in a very small way for quite some time and had noted various types of car that were possible and - more to the point - lots of types of car that weren't!  However, once we got serious about it we found a Nissan Note that was literally just around the corner from us at a dealership and went off to have a gander.  As it turned out, I loved the concept of the Note - the space inside the cabin, the flexible luggage space (for Anthony the mobility buggy), the lightness of the steering, the driving position, the ease of getting in and out - it was all perfect.  The only problem with this one was a) the wiring loom looked like it had been eaten by rats and put back together again by Mr. Gaffer Tape and b) the brake calipers were worryingly moth-eaten.  Following a test drive (which was a LOT of fun), we decided to leave it there and continue looking.  Even though the Note had swiftly ascended to the top of the "possibles" tree, I wasn't disappointed as I felt sure we could find one in better condition.

That evening, I cast my net across the used car adverts and turned up three Notes - one of which looked very nice indeed.  We arranged to go and have a look at it the following day - and bought it.  We came home, got a taxi back out to the car and brought it home that same day.  It's red, it's now called Cherry and is a cut above the one we saw at the dealership in its specification and in its condition and the price would leave us with enough money in the kitty to deal with any unforeseen costs and/or the first MOT.  Couldn't ask for better.

The following day, we put Alfie the Amalfi Lemon Coloured Skoda up for sale at a price that was a fair bit more than the part exchange we'd been offered - and Steve's mobile phone went completely bonkers within seconds of the advert hitting the internet.  The first fella who came to see him bought him - and took him away there and then.  *blink*  I don't think I've ever dealt with a vehicle purchase/sale at quite that speed before.

Strange times?  You're telling me!

BEDLINGTON DAYS

Just look at that smile - irresistible!

A few months ago, we lost our brave little Parsons Jack Russell terrier Rosie to cancer, leaving us with Basil the shortie Jack Russell and Gomez the Leopard Gecko.  Rosie left a huge hole in our family - as always happens when a muched loved pet dies - and we were all most definitely feeling the loss.

After a few days of simply absorbing the grief, supporting each other and attempting to bolster little Basil's feelings - he was seriously missing his pal and was very quiet (which isn't right for a Jack Russell, even if he is 15 years old!) - I found myself scanning the dog rescue and rehoming sites.

First meeting : she was so thin and fragile, but very pleased to meet us

Steve and I then had the "should we?" conversation, during which we decided that although we shouldn't really, if you consider Basil isn't as young as he used to be (looking to the uncertain future, here) and we couldn't bear to contemplate being without any dog at all even for a short time, we most definitely would.  Well good.  I was glad that was settled, because then I could get serious about my scanning activities.

If you've not been in the situation of looking for a dog to give a forever home to, you won't have experienced the rollercoaster that is involved.  You have to go into the whole experience with a certain amount of resilience and dogged (ha!) determination.  Terrier-like, almost.  ;)  Honest to god, the rules and regulations that get hurled in your direction by some shady rescue and rehoming organisations verge from the just plain ridiculous, to the almost illegal.  You honestly wouldn't believe that some of them are trying to find homes for their dogs but, in fact, are purely in it for the money.  In truth, I'm quite sure that some of them are doing just that.  I won't go into more detail because I don't want to wind up getting myself involved in a court case, but will just say that you need to be very careful who you believe.

Such a smiler!

But then there are the good guys.  Organisations like Celia Cross Greyhound Trust, DAWG dogs, Margaret Green Animal Rescue and, of course, the RSPCA.  I spent just about every evening scanning as many websites as I could find that were within our area and saw so many good boys and girls, all looking for their forever sofa.  Occasionally, I would find one that looked a possibility, but following telephoning for more information we would agree that for one reason or another, they just weren't quite right.  This went on for a fair few weeks and Steve was losing hope.  However, I was determined and knew the right dog for us was out there, somewhere.  All I had to do was find him or her.

Now, obviously I don't know what your religious or spiritual beliefs are but if you read on and decide to follow my ramblings, you'll find that I have beliefs that are less religious and much more spiritual in nature.  As such, I decided to throw the search for a dog open to the Universe to deal with - and also placed a request with my animal spirit guides that if possible, they could also give their guidance to the problem.

Time passed and I continued scanning the websites.

Thinking about whether these people - and this funny little dog - would be good pawrents.

Then, one evening, I was on the site for one of our local RSPCA rehoming centres, looking - purely out of idle curiosity - at the three dogs they had available.  None of them would be right for us, but they were cute and I was fairly tired by then so was basically just killing time until bed.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, there - on my screen - was a picture of a small fuzzy grey cloud with two dark eyes, who looked remarkably like a ~sharp intake of breath~ Bedlington terrier.  I swear, I almost stopped breathing as I've always wanted a pure bred Bedlington ever since my Bedlington/Whippet cross lurcher, Ginny, died many moons ago.  This one was called Peggy and I don't think I have ever clicked on the "find out more" link as quickly as I did just then.  Her description was just perfect, she was two years old, her old owner had fallen ill and couldn't care for her any longer so had given her up to the RSPCA, who were rehoming her.  I sat there and stared at her picture, trying not to hyperventilate.

Steve, who had been occupied on his computer in another room, passed by just then and I called him in.  His eyes widened when he saw her picture and an "Oh!  Oh all my yesses!" confirmed my already formed intention to ring for more information in the morning, just as soon as they opened.

The picture that alerted me to her!

Morning arrived and as soon as I was able and the RSPCA centre was open for business, I telephoned them.  Oh no - I had been beaten to the punch by a family who had already reserved Peggy, pending their meeting her.  So this is where the resilience comes in, enabling you not to sound as devastated as you are actually feeling and agree to be held as second reserve for her, in the unlikely event of the first family dropping out.  *sigh*  So close, but yet so far.  The rest of the day proceeded as planned, all the while quietly hoping for a phone call, but to no avail.

Getting to know Basil, too.

The following day started off a series of events, all completely random and all totally out of our control, but which culminated in that longed for telephone call.

Initially, we were expecting our Asda shopping delivery at some point between 10am and 11am, but I received an email saying to expect it an hour earlier.  Additionally, Steve had been planning to go on his motorbike to buy locusts for Gomez's dinners, but in the light of the Asda change debated whether to have coffee now or after the shopping arrived or whether to go for the locusts now and let our son deal with the shopping delivery - and decided to have a coffee now, stay for the shopping delivery and then go for the locusts.  He could SO easily have not been there when the phone rang and equally, we could have been knee deep in unpacking shopping when the phone rang, both of which situations could have resulted in our missing that call.

As it turned out, Steve was in, the shopping was in and I was sitting beside the telephone when it rang and was the RSPCA calling to say the first family had dropped out and were we still interested in Peggy?  Yes, of course we were!  In which case we would be promoted to first reserve and were welcome to come and meet her.  We went that afternoon and bought the locusts on the way home.

She was adorable.  A small, grey poof of cloud-like fur with long legs and tiny paws who felt so fragile to the touch as she was underweight, she was nonetheless absolutely overjoyed to meet us (and Basil) and flung herself about with gay abandon.  She didn't look terribly Bedlington-like because she had required a radical haircut when taken in by the RSPCA, owing to her having poo stuck in her fur and matts here and there.  None of that bothered her and it certainly didn't bother us - the minute we saw her, all four of us fell madly in love.

The official "leaving Ashley Heath" photograph.
(With thanks to morgannevergoesoutside.instagram.com)

All in all, we visited Peggy six times before she was able to come home with us.  She had been newly spayed so needed to heal, she also needed a second inoculation prior to being allowed back out into the world.  Fortunately, the rehoming centre was just a 20 minute drive from home, so visiting wasn't a problem.  Each visit we were able to take her for a walk with Basil, then would spend an hour or so with her in their "home shed" (set up to resemble a living room), where she and Basil could play together, we could all take turns in claiming cuddles but most importantly, get to know one another.

Settling in at home and pondering her next move.

I cannot recommend the RSPCA's rehoming protocol enough.  Yes, the repeated visits (ordinarily just three) were - on one hand - a pain as they took a big old chunk out of your week, but then again we were visiting Peggy and every visit meant it became increasingly difficult to leave her there and we looked forward to the next visit all the more.  Basil got used to the routine very quickly and would complain bitterly if we hadn't all saddled up and got in the car by 1pm, bless him!  If you ever get the chance to rehome an RSPCA dog, don't hesitate to do so as the support you receive in return for your rehoming fee and miles on the car's clock, are infinitely worth it - especially if you wind up with a girl like our Peggy.

She is an adorable, curious, playful, small, silver, fluffy cloud of love who wheedled her way into our battered, wounded hearts and made them whole again.  Rosie would have been outraged by her!

Rosie - the naughtiest one of the bunch 💖