Sunday, 1 June 2014

'And then there were six' | Meet Maisy



Something, or I should say someone, has been neglected of Internet attention as of late. Meet Maisy, my 8 month old Cocker Spaniel (who has a rather amusing tuft of hair likeable to a 'mohican'). 

6 months ago, upon my parents announcing that they had something to tell me and it turning out to be a dog not a baby, I was left in all honesty, rather annoyed and fed up. Possessions covered in dog hair, a slobbery sofa and chewed up furniture in abundance all danced through my mind. Prior to her arrival, she was one big, horrible, foreboding "IT" in my eyes.

But oh, oh how things have taken a drastic turn. As soon as reluctantly opening the door to potentially be greeted by a stinking, over-excited puppy to which I, in that current 'stereotypical teenager' state could not deal with, I was abruptly overcome by her almond doe eyes set into her gorgeous little face. All it took was her to snuggle into my arms and I was smitten. Literally. Like jam and toast. As paddy McGuiness would say, she is the yoke to my egg. And that has not changed. 

In an incredibly subtle and sneaky way Maisy has charmed her way into the centre of the family, to the extent of calling her 'Queen B'. Puppy eyes, you say? You have no idea what you're talking about. A multi-functioning play mate and hot water bottle? Maisy. The culprit of holey underwear? Maisy.


Having a wonderful little playmate to exert my inner child with, who cannot yell 'MUUUUUMMMM LAURYN'S ANNOYING ME' as my brother and sister often do, has proved to be of absolute bliss. Maisy's favourite game is to play 'lets steal the slippers/socks/anything I shouldn't steal' game. Lately, that 'anything I shouldn't steal' was the Sky TV remote. Which is now ambiguously buried in the garden; its location unbeknown to us. Lest we forget about the time when she shredded my laptop charger faster than I shred aromatic crispy duck at a chinese buffet restaurant. Or the time when she climbed on the dining room table and ate my sisters spaghetti bolognaise, or the other night when she jumped up and stole a slice of homemade pizza. Really, she's naughtier than Marley from one of my all time favourite films Marley and Me (even thinking about it makes me well up). She even had (take close attention to the past tense verb) a Build a Bear toy to her name. Unfortunately, she cuddled him (read: play fought) with him so much that he had to be sent off to Mr Dustbin man because his insides were scattered over the living room floor. RIP, JT. However, give a warm welcome to her new cuddly playmate, 'Foxy'. Who has already gone under major surgery to neck, leg and foot, and is now a Voldemort lookalike because Maisy decided that he would look better with her own special plastic surgeon expertise. 

She may treat the dishwasher like a doggy-buffet, nudge you with her nose in exchange for any food you were, you know, actually enjoying, and act up to her nickname of 'Crazy Maisy' without fail, yet, in spite of all of her cheeky mannerisms, I honestly wouldn't trade her for the world. She's the one that runs up to you with the nearest object she can find in her mouth as a present when you enter the room; the companion that follows you around like a comforting shadow and is constantly open to a myriad of cuddles and belly tickles, all the time with her little tail thumping faster than Lewis Hamilton's F1 car.





Have you got a furry friend? Were you ever anti-dog, or was it just this one who has reversed my personality? Is it just 'Maisy-Moo' who loves getting herself in a naughty pickle? let me know!



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