[Dailydrool] a tiny bit of drool and Morse being a brat

[Rebecca Stanton]

First of all can I just ask for a bit of drool for Morse? Nothing major but he 
is finding this rental place difficult. He is licking a fair bit and we are 
doing our best to stop him, we are imagining it is a  bit of stress, though he 
has always been a vigorous washer. He is used to getting a LOT of sleep - when I 
was at work he would sleep from when I left, ie 7-7.30am - right through to 
about 2.30pm.  I am applying for jobs but if I get one it probably wont be until 
around Christmas time, so we are both here with him and as we are only in one 
room I think he is missing his sleep, so we are going to try and be a lot 
quieter to make sure he catches up on his kipping.  So that I think is making 
him irritable.  To make matters worse we cannot leave him as he is frightened in 
this place - he just doesnt feel easy here.  Another reason for that is I think 
he is similar to us - he likes airy, bright places like our last house.  The new 
house will be similar.  But this rented cottage is 400 years old, dark and very 
small - so no real sunlight.  He hates it.  He feels better sleeping on the bed 
upstairs as it is a bright room, but the only room down here is small and very 
dark, so again this isnt helping.  Also he loved going round his garden.  Here 
he has a garden but he has to go on a pathway to get to it and through a gate, 
and there is a dog yapping a lot on the other side, and now he has decided he 
will not go into the garden at all.  To be frank I could happily just pack up 
and take him back to our old town but I dont think it would help - for one our 
house has been sold anyway, and we need to give this a chance.  Hopefully we'll 
only be in this rented place for about another 6-8 weeks, and then we will be in 
our new place where we can finally see if he settles once he is back in a 
routine and he has his garden again.  I think if the home situation was better 
he might feel happier, but to be honest I think I really underestimated just how 
sensitive he is and just how much he misses the village.  Or maybe he doesnt, 
maybe its just that he isnt happy here.  Mike keeps reminding me that even in 
Writtle he could be an awkward boy who would refuse to budge out on the walks, 
so maybe I am making too much of it.  What we have said is that if he doesnt 
settle in lets say a year, then I think we have to look at going back. I really 
hope it doesnt come to that but I couldnt stand to see him unhappy.
On a brighter note, he was a bit of a brat yesterday. We tried to cheer Morse up 
by taking him to a cute pub in the  middle of the countryside. Unfortunately we 
hadnt long had a late breakfast so neither of us was hungry and in the mood for 
what they were serving - a typical Sunday roast - and Morse was devastated. He 
sat in the middle of the patio outside watching waitresses come and go with 
plates piled high with roast beef, yorkshire puds etc. Then we took him into 
Kingsbridge for a wander and stopped at another pub by the quayside where again 
people were ordering food, and he again planted himself down and drooled at the 
coming and goings of the plates stacked with fish and chips. So we took him home 
and a while after his tea took him for a walk. Mike went ahead with some heated 
chips from our tea the night before and planted them at different intervals just 
so it would feel like 'home'. This went down well and the tail was high and 
happy. We had our own tea later (Morse had some hot chicken) and we crashed out 
at 8pm exhausted. From the settee where Morse sprawled (he has the entire sofa - 
if I am in the way he kicks me impatiently and stares coldly at the obstruction) 
there came a faint, high pitched whine. I closed my eyes, knowing what this 
meant. Another walk. Mike protested but I said there was nothing for it, and I 
wasnt walking round a dark Devon village in the pitch black by myself, so off we 
all went, it was freezing. Morse trotted along. We were only out about 10 mins 
and we came home. Morse headed straight for the stairs. No, we said, far too 
early for bed. Obviously not for Morse. He took no notice and plodded upstairs 
in his determined way. When I got up there he stood with his chin resting on the 
bed, wanting a lift. So he went to bed at 8.30pm and all was quiet. 


drool to all in need.

Becky, Morse and Pumbaa ATB


      
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