Category Archives: Rufus

Rufus, an 11-year-old blue Bearded Collie. The best dog in the world. Gets his own area, being the dog he is….

Too fast? Too slow, more like

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“It’s all too fast”, he states.

“Not for me, it isn’t”, I reply.

“At our age you have to take things more slowly”.

“Really? Why?”

And I mean it. Really? Why? Why does one have to take it slowly? Surely, one should take it slowly when you’re very young – when there really IS enough time. Now, we should be rushing and going as fast as possible.

He suggests it is because of experience but concedes that that’s not in my experience – so outside my knowledge. Later, I think that I should have said that, more or less, when I was his age, I started a relationship with the guy I just spent over 20 years with – and, if I had my life over again, I would do exactly the same.

“But it’s been over nine months”, I attempt to justify to him. He has this habit of not looking at me. Of moving his head in such a way as to appear blind – like blind people do – looking into the air and moving their head from left to right – see Stevie Wonder, for example.

He doesn’t look at me when he says, “C’mon Andrew, 9 months is very short”.

I won’t argue with him. He doesn’t understand. To be, possibly, meeting the family after 9 months together is not fast. It’s slightly more than snail’s pace.

But then, as I pointed out to him, no one in the UK at the age of 30+ (or, even 20+) would consider spending the two/three weeks of their holiday at their parent’s house. Christmas, probably. Easter, maybe. But your summer holiday? Going home and spending all that time with your parents? Are you crazy?

So we may look the same but, mentally, we’re very, very different.

Even in little things. We got to the bar and there were empty tables at the far end, outside. I sat with my back to a huge fan they had going. A sat opposite me. The fan turned and, at one point in its cycle, the air blew, quite strongly, on to my back and the the back of my neck.

“I can’t sit here”, he says. “The fan will mean that I will get a [stiff] neck”, he says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, the part not being affected by the wind from the fan. Still, he got the waiter to adjust it, all the same. I’ve only ever really seen that here. No one in the UK gets that bothered by a bit of air movement. How can we? It’s so windy so often!

And, talking of the UK, I’m wondering what to take F to see and what to avoid. Should I go to my parent’s house (just to look where it is, not for any other reason); or just stick to Worcester – walk round a bit – Hereford we can do after the wedding. I will go to my Grandfather’s grave – just for a few moments – he was/is still my hero.

But, I want him to see where I’ve ‘come from’, so to speak. I don’t know why. But it might be boring. I have to be careful. We shall, hopefully, meet up with the bride and groom the day before and some other friends just afterwards and then, I hope, providing she can do it, go and stay with Best Mate for a few days.

I would like to go and see V’s Dad – but probably won’t get the chance. I would like to see Corrine but, again, it might be a bit much for F.

Or, perhaps, we should just suck it and see?

Some stuff

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I have had it sitting on my desk, with a stamp on, for weeks and weeks. To post it, it meant a trip down Via Castel Morrone to the post office. Post boxes, here, always seem in such short supply.

I keep meaning to do it. It’s not crucial. It’s the acceptance to the invitation to the wedding. The wedding is at the end of this month but they know we’re coming, so it’s not crucial.

But, apparently, the Bride’s mum likes getting them back and mine has an Italian stamp – so more exotic, I guess. And, anyway, the stamp’s used now so I might as well.

OK, I say to myself, I WILL go the the post office tonight.

I take the card from the desk and have it in my hand as I walk round the corner to the car. I will put it on the seat of the car to remind me to go there tonight.

As I walk round the corner, I almost bump into a post box! I never knew it was there. I walk past it nearly every day, sometimes twice a day and never noticed it before. We men are crap. As my mother used to say – we can’t see for looking.

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I don’t know whether he forgot it ‘on purpose’. I knew, that morning, that he wasn’t going to come. Sometimes, I think, I am beginning to understand him.

He gets up to his alarm. It is 7.30 a.m. I would like to stay in bed and would like to get more sleep but probably won’t. But Saturday and Sunday are the only two days I get to sleep in.

I get up to let him out and then go back to bed. But I know sleep won’t come now so get up anyway.

I see his phone. Hmmmm. I think to myself that it would be easier for him not to come tonight if he doesn’t have his phone. He could say that he needed to go and get it or that he couldn’t tell me what time he had come back or that he wasn’t sure whether we had gone somewhere else, etc, etc.

I go onto FB and chat to him. I tell him I have his phone. He says not to worry. I say I will bring it round. He says he will be fine without it. I say that if he doesn’t have it I cannot tell him where we go and what time, etc. I say I will bring it round shortly.

I take the dogs. After all, it is ‘cooler’ at this time. We walk the normal way. We go through an area between the trees in a quieter street. there are, usually, at night, a couple of homeless people, possibly of Asian descent, that sleep on a couple of benches. If they were there last night then they got up earlier. They are not there. I guess, that Sunday is much like any other day for them – possibly less people to beg off – if they beg.

But they are gone. In the distance, at the end of this patch of green and trees, on the end bench I see someone lying down, probably asleep.

As I approach the bench, I see at the side of it, the obligatory empty beer bottle. I think he may be the guy who I often see on that bench. The one who doesn’t seem to be homeless as he’s always sitting there, not sleeping there – as far as I knew.

As I approach with the dogs, the guy wakes up, or, at least, gets up. He looks homeless. He has a shirt and trousers but they do look like they have seen better days.

As we come aside the bench he reaches in his pocket and pulls out his mobile phone!

What?????

OK, so maybe not homeless after all – or someone who is homeless but rich enough to have a mobile phone?

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Dino has two, very annoying habits. He licks and he pulls on the lead. The licking (as I may have mentioned before) I can’t seem to stop. The pulling I can but it takes time.

And so, at least at the start of every walk he pulls and he’s quite a strong dog – about 25Kgs of solid muscle! I yank him back and make him walk beside me until he stops pulling.

But it couldn’t last forever.

His collar is a material (cotton) collar. It starts to break. So now, tonight, I have to go and buy a collar. First a bigger one as his neck is much thicker than Rufus’. Secondly a leather one as a leather one will last much longer!

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Update:
He didn’t come. He could have but he didn’t. I didn’t think he would.

I am walking home and I am tired. I phone him and it seems like he cut off the call. Maybe he’s asleep already. I text to say I am going home and then taking the dogs out and then going to bed as he seems asleep.

I get home. It seems he’s on Facebook. I chat to him that I tried to phone and that I have sent a text.

I take the dogs out. I come back and am having a quick glass of milk. He calls. The phone was on charge in the bathroom. He left the computer on. He was watching telly in the bedroom. Am I coming round, he asks. If you don’t mind, no, I reply. I am ready for bed. He says the phone did not say I had phoned.

Ah well, anyway, he seems to have bad nights with me or, maybe, because of the heat, I don’t know. Still, it does no harm for us to spend the occasional night apart – or is that wicked of me?

Going or not going? More importantly, why?

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“you know, other things ……..work, house, you, the babies :-)”

I can be a disingenuous sometimes, it’s true. Of course I knew the list included me and the babies. When I said that I wasn’t sure this morning, when he asked if he should go, I was hoping and wanting him to say this. Even if, last night, he was a bit concerned when I told him that I may not be able to get the ‘sitter’ for the dogs and, so, maybe wouldn’t come. He suggested that I could come on just the Sunday. I said we’ll see. No, he doesn’t want to go unless I am coming or following behind. But this morning I said that he should go. He needs to see his parents and has, probably, promised his best friend. Or, rather, nearly promised.

Still, we all need confirmation about the feelings of those around us, from time to time, don’t we?

And so he isn’t going. And, so, I’m not going either. There will be another time. It would be so much easier if we could use his house. Then we could take the dogs and all would be fine. Let’s hope it becomes free soon.

Inevitable

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It’s started. No, it had started some time ago but now it’s more. It’s difficult to get up. Getting up requires help. It was inevitable but just as I thought that, maybe, I had got it wrong and there was a long time to go, it hits and makes me sad.

As I say, it was inevitable. Still……..

Of course, it doesn’t help that the floor gives no grip. F realises this. He jokes that Dino can come to his place and I can stay with Rufus at mine. Later he says that he might get a large piece of the stuff they put under carpets here to stop them slipping – a sort of mesh thing. I think he will. Before that he had said that we would have to spend much more time at my place.

I picked the place because of the dogs but didn’t realise that the floors would be quite so good. They have a roughness that allows grip – not shiny wooden or marble floors which offer none.

So I help him to his feet. He will get used to this. I will do it for as long as it needs to be done, the only worrying thing for me will be that he may be in actual pain. I hope not but, of course, he cannot actually say. I can’t remember how long after the falling down bit it was before Ben died.

He’s OK when moving – stumbling a bit from time to time now but OK. Ben was much worse. F suggested that we have to keep them apart a bit now. “Why?”, I asked. “Because he will miss him when he’s gone”, he said. And, so, he wants him to get used to it now.

I don’t know how long it will be. Maybe months; maybe many, many months. It only happened the one night. The next day he got much better and now seems OK. But it will happen again. I’ve seen it before.

It’s still sad, even if you know it’s coming.

Missing me; Tuscany, maybe?; Weather in Italy – when to have a holiday; In hot water; This blog

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“Looking forward to seeing you and the babies”

It hasn’t been that long.

“We are still in the restaurant, eating outside. I imagine our holidays – with the babies”

I take them out of order and, probably out of context. It’s my blog and I can do what I want.

In fact, it is only since 5.45 this morning when I got up and left him to wake up more slowly. But he was getting up at 6 anyway. He was going to the store near Venice.

It is hot and sunny there and cooler and more rainy here. But the rain will pass. And, for our holidays, I hope it is not like other years and remains hot and sunny, even if it is the third week in August – not the best week for being on holiday here, in my experience.

In fact, if you wanted my advice, holidays in the Northern part of Italy should be taken in July for the hottest, sunniest weather, with June and September cooler (but still hot) but more risky for rainy days. August, around the 15th, is almost guaranteed rain!

But I did notice that, in the message I put at the start, I was mentioned first. I also realised that he is, really, really looking forward to going away with the dogs (and me).

He has an idea for Tuscany (this is NOT the holiday). The problem is the dogs (or the babies, as you will). His parents place means that we sleep in two very small rooms and he is concerned because they go to bed early (and are up early – which all sounds good to me) but (and I more than agree with him) it’s not so easy with the dogs. The flat, which he shares with his brother, is currently being used by some cousin or something.

I don’t know how many times I have to say that I was only joking (even if the reality was that I was only half-joking). His plan is that he goes down on the Friday and I follow Saturday afternoon. Then I stay Saturday night and I (or, maybe we) come back on Sunday.

“I want you to come to C”, he says. And I really think he does. And I don’t want to take the dogs to his parents. at least, not until they know me better or something. Gentle introductions are required here, I think. Even if they will never know who I really am and are unlikely to with the language barrier.

However, he is thinking of doing this in the next couple of weeks. Let’s see. With him, I can’t get too excited lest it doesn’t happen. His mind is still unfathomable to me. I know he thinks about things a lot but what actually goes on in his head is just impossible and I can’t follow his logic (if there is any) (and that’s after my advice to Lola earlier this afternoon hahahaha).

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We expect things to work and we certainly take things for granted. Yesterday, in my head, I was looking forward to the shower I was going to have.

Except after nearly three hours, the three men went away, leaving me with a brand, spanking, new boiler …………. which didn’t work!

Another guy came today to fix it. It took him a while but he has done it. It was a blockage!!  As I said to someone at work, today.  I had one guy to carry things, one guy to fit the boiler and one guy to watch them do it.  Now, I could add – and one guy to make it actually work!

So I went to lie down for a bit and then I heard the sound of someone coming in. It was my cleaner guy. Since he had to leave early yesterday (no water) he was going to add hours next Wednesday. Instead, he chose to come and do the ironing today.

So, tonight I have a long, hot shower AND I have all my shirts ironed.

Cool, if you see what I mean.

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Today, I was recounting the story of how F & I met. The girl, A, thought it was a lovely story. Of course, my blog allows me to recount the circumstances in more detail than I would ever remember and for which I am grateful. She also wanted to know how it was to be gay; when did I know?; what about girls?, etc. I explained. I have nothing to hide. She was a bit shocked but then, in this country, there is an unawareness about it all that still surprises me. I wondered if this is what it is like in most of the world. I am truly grateful that I was born and brought up in the UK.

But back to the blog. I’m not sure that I always say all of the really important things but I think I was, mostly, faithful with my recounting the story, since it was written at the time. It makes me wonder, if, in a few years time, some of the essence of the whole thing will be gone from the blog. It’s not really a diary, is it? It’s more a collection of random thoughts and random happenings in my life. Some things are deliberately missed (for various reasons); some things omitted by accident.

There’s a reason for the name

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Of course, one should be clean. But, sometimes, it’s difficult – even with short hair. The beard’s the problem. It just seems to pick up every bit of dirt and becomes discoloured really easily.

So now, there’s a new ‘habit’. That of washing the beard. The bidet is used, the specific towel to be used is at the back of the bidet. Everything is ready – always.

I am instructed that I should do this every time we come back. Of course, I won’t. But, then, I haven’t said I would. I make some sort of grunt when I am told that this should be done every time. There’s enough to do without worrying about that. And, anyway, he’ll be there to do it, most of the time.

Dino is the worst. His hair is growing at an incredible rate! And, of course, that includes his beard and, as a result, it gets dirty just by dragging on the ground as he sniffs something or whatever.

So, I guess the ‘beard washing’ will continue until his next haircut, at least. They aren’t called Bearded Collies for nothing.

The new things

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[This is from a week or two ago] – They are very shiny – being new. He is so proud of them. I had wondered how long it would take and now, finally, they are here.

As is the soft-toy rabbit.

They are, of course, for the dogs. There are three shiny, new bowls. 2 for water and one for food. And the toy is similar to the sheep I bought a few weeks ago. Dino loves it and it makes a noise when you squeeze it so he loves it more.

We go out to a party as planned. We come back to my flat to collect the dogs – and we get some food too, obviously.

We take the dogs out and go back to his place. “Will they like the new bowls?”, he has asked me. I assure him that, even if they say nothing, I’m certain they will love them.

He fills the bowls with water. Whilst he is filling the third with food, Dino finds the rabbit and starts playing with it. He is happy (that’s F and Dino).

He is so proud of the things he has bought.

I may not have a key to the place but I think that Rufus and Dino’s positions in his home are secure.

Dentists, Doctors, Vets – hmmph! And more information about the dogs than you probably needed to know!

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I wonder if it is because I am older and, therefore, more cynical? Or is it because I have much more experience? Or is it because they are crap now? Or have they always been crap and I’m just finding out?

I know, before you tell me. That’s an unfair thing to say. After all, they’re only human too! Nobody can be perfect. And, it’s not really that I blame them, they are, after all, “general purpose” and something/someone like that can never be really perfect or know everything, can they?

Still, I find it annoying when they don’t listen. I’ve had my own problems; done my own research. I’m no expert either but it’s all kinda logical.

I had a lot of problems with my teeth. Sure, I could have cleaned them better in the past but the cleaning was not really the problem. No, the problem was that I ground my teeth…..a lot. And the grinding and clenching was for about 20 years. The pressure that caused meant that my teeth broke and meant that the ‘bite’ was not good and meant more pressure which led to severe gingivitis.

So, Dino has always had a problem with his teeth. When he was a puppy, his bottom set of milk teeth, especially the canines, went inside the top set of teeth, which is, of course, all wrong. When his second set came they were better but still not perfect.

As a result, on one side, he has what looks like severe gingivitis. But, really it’s just where one of the canines goes up into his gum, having spread the two teeth above, apart. It doesn’t seem to hurt him, he has no problem with grip or eating. I check it from time to time to make sure it’s not getting worse, of course. Eventually, probably, he will have to lose a couple of teeth but right now it’s fine.

The vet, looking at his teeth decided, quite wrongly, that the teeth needed cleaning. So he was telling me about this special cream for gingivitis and how I can clean them with a toothbrush and had a look again and then said ‘they’re not so bad, though’. Doh! Really? During the conversation, he ignored all my comments about why the teeth were like this and, anyway, one can see that the bottom canine is the wrong alignment and is ‘hitting’ the gum, thereby forcing it back!

And then there was Rufus. Rufus is over 14 now. He’s like an old gentleman. And, as with humans, as one gets older, lumps and bumps and warts and other things appear on your skin. This is normal. Of course, these days, they’re called “tumours” (and when, exactly did that happen?). It could be benign. Rufus has many of these “tumours”, which I told him (and then couldn’t find any, of course).

The problem with this lump is that it got damaged and now Dino, licker extraordinaire, will not leave it alone – which is just making it look so much worse. Anyway, he’s taken some samples for testing and I have to apply a cream, twice a day, for a week. Then we go back next week to see how it is.

He also asked me about the food I feed Rufus. I had to explain about the fact that I have to be careful these days. Rufus’ stomach doesn’t take so well to all food. We have a mix of Pedigree Chum with some cheap stuff from Carrefour (all dried). The Pedigree Chum binds him too much and he finds it difficult to go to the toilet – the cheap stuff loosens it all so that it’s more or less fine. He realised that I knew what I was doing. He did suggest something else but I explained that I had to be careful changing the food for Rufus – otherwise he got the runs. He understood. But, if I hadn’t been so obviously knowledgeable about my dogs dietary needs I know he would have been telling me to go for something else (and, obviously, something much more expensive!).

At the end of all this, I am a responsible dog owner and I know my dogs. And I know what they need. And, sometimes, I know, better than the vet, what is ‘wrong’ and if it’s something to worry about or not. The tumour thing I asked about only because, unless I make it better, Dino will continue to lick it and continue to make it seem bad, which it is not.

Oh yes, and he also told me that Rufus had some arthritis (which I know and which is obvious) and that his liver was a bit larger than normal. Yes he is drinking more; yes, I know that it’s going to happen but it’s nowhere near as bad as the last year with Ben – so everything is OK right now. Let’s face it, Rufus is very old and will die sooner or later. As it is he is doing really well and, whilst he’s not in pain and still has a good quality of life then it’s OK.

As the vet (the one in the UK a few years ago) said to me about Ben – I will know when the time has come!

The games of a relationship – part one – jealousy

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Relationships are bloody difficult, for everyone, it seems.

A, on a ‘break’ from Fr, and I went to this cocktail thing last night. The wine was good. The food was good. It was ‘finger food’, A’s new craze right now. He’s doing us Sunday lunch this weekend – which will be finger food.

Fr phoned him several times. He was annoyed.

“She shouldn’t be phoning me because we have agreed to meet at 9.15″, he moans to me. He doesn’t answer her calls.

As we’re walking away from the cocktail do to his car, he tries to phone her.

“She’s switched off her phone”, he moans further.

I ask where they were going to go. He says just ‘for a walking’ near to her place. I suggest that he goes to her flat anyway – the risk being that she doesn’t answer the door. I also suggest that he doesn’t say he was in the swimming-pool all the time as, if he gets to see her, she will smell the alcohol on his breath. I suggest, instead, that he blames me (as, anyway, she blames me for his drinking too much).

I tell him that he should stop playing games with her. Her phoning and he not answering. Then him phoning and she not having her phone on. He, of course, denies playing games, as, probably, would she. But, the reality is that, as in any other relationship, he (and her, probably) is playing a game. We all do it to a greater or lesser degree.

I don’t know whether he went round or not. I will email him now.

And then, this morning, S, my colleague, was upset. Upset because of her husband who she had seen, sitting at a café with other people. One of these people was a woman who, some time in the past, he may have had an affair with – perhaps – maybe. And she rang him and so they had a fight. So she wanted advice (but, as is normal, didn’t really want advice at all but to be told that what she planned was the right thing). She’s going to change her route because then she doesn’t see it – but, of course, that doesn’t mean it goes away. Her husband, of course, denies everything. She then spoke about, maybe, she should start going out with her friends. It’s more game. I suggested that she didn’t as going out with her friends meant that she would be doing it to try and make her husband jealous and if it didn’t work, then where would she be?

And so, interrupted by colleagues, she has been telling me the story over the last ‘x’ years. And why it all happened and asking what I thought. And I feel sorry for her as I do for A and I wish I could make it better for them but I can’t. But I did try to explain to her that I, too, have these feelings of jealousy – it’s just that I know what they are and I force myself to act in a proper way and not give in to them.

My example was this week. F texted me to say that he was going out with a friend. Of course, my immediate reaction is – who, what, why, where????? And what relationship do you have with them? Or have had with them?

I do none of that. I know that for what it is. And I prefer that he feels free enough to tell me this much. Later, on the phone, he said that he did not stay with them and went out for dinner on his own. It was complicated and he will explain it to me after; later; apparently.

And that’s OK. Maybe I will mention it or maybe not. In any event I have to explain the other night so that he knows I am not angry with him. Maybe it will come out then. Maybe I should explain that I have the feelings but don’t act on them. Maybe. Perhaps. Or not, of course.

A asked me when will we move in together. I said not now. Not yet. Maybe never. He didn’t understand. I said I would wait for F to decide. He thinks I’m crazy and that I should push. I know that I should not. When or if it is right, it will happen. F complains that his flat is too small. It will come – in time. There is time (or, at least, one has to hope for time). And, anyway, if there is no time, then there is little to be done about that.

In the meantime, I am, again, like a rabbit in car headlights. The fear of everything is causing me to freeze; to do nothing and, therefore, making everything far worse. However, today I did some stuff. And some stuff is better than the ‘nothing’ I had been doing until now.

At least, now, finally, the weather is more like summer. High twenties already and set to get higher with almost clear blue skies.

Even if my life is not perfect, I love it still. F returns tonight and I shall pick him up – he asks if the ‘babies’ will be there too. I say maybe. And, as he flies into Terminal 2, which is smaller, maybe I will take them. I know that Dino would love it. And so would F. And, as long as F and my dogs are happy, then that is all that matters.

And, whilst I may play some sort of game with our relationship, it’s not the one of A nor S nor their respective partners and I will not let the jealousy thing become the thing that controls me and takes me over. Each time it happens I will make it stop in my head.

It’s too nice a day to have problems like that.

Two sides

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It’s raining – that sort of misty, damp rain. Not real rain at all. But you would get wet all the same. A half-hour plane ride from a place we sat out in the garden in the warm sun.

I am here, sheltering from the rain because I had to have a cigarette and in this god-forsaken country there is no smoking in the airport. A little like the UK or, for that matter, Italy.

I decide to have another one. It will be another 3 hours before I’m back in Italy and able to smoke.

But that’s not the point of this post.

The point of this post is the way people are. Why is it that in one situation they say one thing and in another they say almost the opposite. Luckily, as they say in Italy, I know my chickens.

Let’s be honest. The guy I am with is fantastic in front of customers. He has the ‘gift of the gab’. He can tell amusing anecdotes; he keeps the customer entertained; he can explain a technical thing in a way that even I can understand but, above all, he says the things that the customer wants to hear and the truth – but only when actually in front of them!

At work, when something is questioned or proposed he blusters and pouts and screams that it will never be possible. In front of the customer everything is fine – there is always a solution. Quite often the two sides of him differ so much that something that, internally, was impossible or would cause problem x becomes easy or will certainly not cause problem x.

And so, as a result of an internal meeting, I wrote a letter that said we could do something but that these would be the problems and we thought it wouldn’t work. As I suspected (which is why I took him with me and is one of the reasons I’m good at my job) all the problems became ‘not problems’ and the wouldn’t work things suddenly would be fine.

However, it can be a little frustrating as I can’t have the customer here, in front of him all the time.

Ah, well, such is life.

And I got home last night about 11.30 p.m. and went to bed about midnight. And then, even though I was so very tired could not sleep until about 2 a.m. The dogs kindly woke me about 6 a.m. and now I just want sleeeeeeeeeeeep!