1. She would present the problem.
2. I would offer solution
3. She would give me a reason why solution wouldn't work
4. I would offer another solution.
5. She would give me a reason why solution probably wouldn't work.
6....well, you get the point.
We would end up going round in circles for hours.
I, on the other hand, am the polar opposite. Often, I'm over productive when it comes to problems in that I attempt to solve them before they actually happen. Basically, I solve problems that don't actually need solving yet or may never have needed solving if I hadn't attempted to solve them. Some people may suggest that this is a good thing. However, on more than one occasion, it has hindered me considerably in that by solving a problem that didn't yet need to be solved, I have actually caused myself another, and potentially worse, problem.
Always keen to solve a problem: Leather car upholstery stick a pair of socks on....the bells may not have been such a good idea in hindsight...
To give a quick example:
A few years ago, I used to go and stay at an ex-boyfriend's university digs. The communal house was very rough round the edges, shared by 9 men and with 1 working shower. The problem with this shower, I was told, was that it squirted you with cold water meaning that either your clothes get very wet along with the floor and towels or you had to stand in a freezing cold shower cubicle and get sprayed cold water for a few minutes. 'No!' I thought. 'I have a much better plan...' Instead of standing in the cubicle naked and getting freezing cold or standing outside and getting my clothes wet, I'll stand outside of the cubicle with no clothes on BUT (and this is the key factor) shut my head and arm in the cubicle so at the most my face, neck and shoulder will get sprayed with cold water. What I didn't think about was the automatic reaction that occurs when you get sprayed in the face with freezing cold water. This is not the reaction that you want to have when you are standing, with your head trapped in a glass door with no clothes on and you jump and hit your face off said glass door! So...instead of having wet clothes, I had a fat lip and a nose bleed!
'I'm here to read about Caesar!' I hear you cry. Well be patient...I'm getting to that bit now! Trust me, this all ties in...really, it does...
Excuse me, this is my blog, stop hijacking it to talk about yourself!
Caesar's bed has been at the bottom of the stairs for around a year. On most evenings, he retires to the red plastic basked and snuggles up among his cushions and toys. On a night, he comes up to bed for a cuddle and then goes back down to his basket when my partner comes to bed. However, as the colder nights began to set in, we noticed a problem; he wasn't going to bed anymore. Not on an evening and, on a night, he was sitting outside the bedroom door crying. Like this:
This crying was happening intermittently throughout the night but would become horrendous at between 5 and 6 in the morning and grow louder as the hours went by. Now, to begin with, I ignored him. But one day when I was waiting by the door for a friend when I noticed a problem. 'That door is really draughty!' I told Damien. 'No wonder he won't sleep in his bed'. Caesar's bed is positioned by the front door. Sitting there, I was shuddering as the wind came through the cracks between the door and the frame. So, I decided to move it into the hall upstairs. "He sleeps outside of our bedroom anyway, we might as well move the bed there." Damien agreed so we hauled the huge plastic bed upstairs only to find that it didn't fit and was covering one of the bedroom doors! Perhaps I need to employ a tape measure next time...
Caesar in his red plastic basket.
I don't need much of an excuse to buy my dogs something new so I headed straight for 'Yorkshire Trading' where I knew they were setting Scruffs Self-Heating Mattresses for a pretty decent price, only to find that they weren't selling them at all any more and now all they had were scruffy looking beanbag type beds...the type that Caesar eats. I proceeded to hunt around for a better option but found none. All of the beds I could find looked over priced and/or uncomfortable and/or edible if your name is Caesar and you have a taste for cheap stuffing...
I can't see why I can't just sleep here!
This is where non-dog owners, like my sister who was trudging around the shops very patiently with me, begin to suspect I'm fussy. I'm not fussy, however I'm also not going to pay £35 of my hard earned cash on a bed that may as well have been a bag of hamburgers for as long as it will last. Eventually, I found, tucked away at the back of a tiny pet shop, a cord, cream doughnut bed, which looked both trendy and comfortable. 'This is the one!' I said to my sister, forcing her to 'feel the quality'. She obliged, probably because it was quicker than pointing out that the quality of this specific item made no difference to her and that, having walked around forty pet shops, she had now lost the will to live.
Caesar recognises a good quality bed when he sees one.
So, now we have a trendy bed to go with our very untrendy
Another thing that you need to know about me is that I don't like to wait. I'm rubbish at being patient. If I want something, I want it now. I'm not spoilt or anything. At least not more than most people. However, I get very excited about things and, if I feel like this, I don't want to have to wait 5 days for something to be delivered. I bought the bed there and then for the price tag of £28 only to get it home and find it on the internet for £10. I wondered if I would have waited had I known. I don't have money coming out of my ears, so £18 is not an insignificant amount. However, my plan to relocate Caesar would have been paused for a further 5 - 10 days. What price would you put on 5 - 10 days of being able to sleep without being howled at my a discontent doggy who has a draughty bedroom?
As soon as we walked through the door, I was running upstairs with the bed. "Doesn't it look trendy?" I asked Damien "feel the quality." Damien looked nonplussed. "Good." Luckily, the bed fit perfectly and, as soon as it was down, Caesar was in it. That night he slept like a baby, in fact, I think it's the best he's slept since we've had him. I fell asleep as soon as he left and didn't wake up in the morning to the sound of howling. However, I was almost late for work! Time to invest in a real alarm clock I think.
RIP bedding that Caesar has eaten:
RIP bedding that Caesar has eaten:
RIP donut bed that looked so comfy and cuddly.
RIP massive stuffed bed that weighed a ton and which I had to carry home!
RIP fleecy soft bone blanket that is now ripped to shreds!
Does your dog feel the need to wake you in the morning? Or are they well behaved and sleep in? Maybe you have sleeping arrangements that mean they can't wake you. I'd love to hear your own stories - share them in the comments section.