A Doggie Tipple Story

Christmas approaching reminds me of Bramble, a tan and white springer spaniel who is our delightful charge when we dogsit for Rob, her owner. We had her for the day on Boxing Day last year.

But we had seen her on Christmas Eve at our local pub. Because it was Christmas, she had been given a special treat of a bowl of Guinness, and during the hour we were there I saw her come back to it about three times. Miraculously the bowl always seemed to be full.

In between she did her usual trick of poncing for the biscuits that are kept behind the bar for her. She knows just what a soft touch I am and usually focuses her attention on me when I’m there, sitting close to me and fixing me with her great soulful eyes, head cocked to one side. Every so often she will rise up and gently tap my lap with a front paw. Eventually I give in and get her a biscuit, which she is allowed to eat when she has given me each front paw in succession.

When Rob brought her to our house on Boxing Day morning, he told us how the Guinness had affected her. Walking home they always stop at the kerb before crossing the roads. That night, each time when sitting she gradually leaned further over before subsiding in a heap in the gutter, fortunately not in the path of any oncoming vehicles. At home, she just managed to reach her basket before slumping into it and falling asleep.

On Boxing Day morning she was her usual rumbustious self, but I wonder if she had a hangover on Christmas day morning.

We’ll miss her this Christmas now that we’ve moved house and she isn’t close by.

The photo isn't Bramble, but a dog that looks quite like her. It's from Wikimedia Commons by The Boy that time forgot.