Exciting news. We might be expecting. I say might because I haven’t done a pregnancy test yet. I thought about doing one then I thought, what the hell, I will leave it to fate. If it happens, it happens. If not, I will look on the bright side as it will save me a lot of bother.
Actually, it was the other way around, if I’m honest. My first reaction was total panic, then I thought, if it happens I will look on the bright side. It will be nice to hear the patter of tiny paws around the place.
Oh, didn’t I say? It’s Cydney who might be expecting. Not me. Lordy, no. I’m well past that. But Cydney is in her prime. I haven’t had her ‘done’ yet as I had been hoping to reserve the option of perhaps letting her have one litter to preserve her impeccable bloodlines.
But romance never goes according to plan and I’m afraid to say it wasn’t a working cocker she had an amorous encounter with. It was a fluffy white Maltese.
And before anyone complains that this was irresponsible, let me tell you, it was nothing to do with me. Quite the opposite. I had taken Cydney out for a walk on the lead as she was in season. I was in close control of her. I had no intention of letting any old Tom, Dick or Fido have a go at wooing her.
Despite my best efforts as a chaperone, however, Cydney has caught the attention of a pushy little Maltese who is walked in the park every day by a woman who also has a fearsome-looking Doberman and a jet-black Alsatian. Those two terrify the life out of me.
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