But I digress.
This week Mrs P and I found ourselves at two auditions and there wasn’t a dancer in sight. One was for our dog George and the other was for a prospective new daughter-in-law.
Let’s start with the dog.
George is of an age now where he’s got a little bit of arthritis, eyesight is getting a little dim at night and all he really wants to do is sit on your lap, snore, fart and have his ears caressed. Sort of like me actually.
Anyway. We are hoping to go away for a few days at the end of the month and we don’t feel putting him in the traditional kennels would be right for him. So we’ve found a lovely lady and her family who would be happy to take him into their home and look after him.
All we needed to do was arrange a meeting beforehand so they could check each other out.
And so, last Saturday that’s what we did.
I have to say we were very nervous. For starters what does one wear to a dog-sitting audition? More importantly should we take a bundle of “poo bags” - which, if you haven’t worked out yet, are bags for the removal of dog excrement.
We were a bit worried about the poo thing. George has been known to get excited at times and seems to have no qualms as to where or when he’ll go. The most embarrassing occasion was when he won Best Puppy at his playgroup and decided to, er, shall we say, liven up proceedings, as I went up on stage with him to collect his prize.
But again, I digress. So, on the day Mrs P and I settled for casual Saturday morning attire and a couple of poo bags in each pocket to show we were responsible owners and make a good impression.
Things went smoothly for a start. George was a loveable ball of fluff, dutifully wagged his tail and accepted various pats and strokes. He made everyone laugh when he plonked himself down in the middle of a bush where it was nice and cool and generally appeared right at home.
Then he met another dog staying at the house.
Now I don’t know whether you are dog people or not but I’ve always found when you get two dogs together it can go either way. Thankfully it went the right way and George became a puppy again for five minutes. Haring round like a lunatic, wrestling with the other dog and then following his new mate by plonking himself down in a kids’ paddling pool full of rainwater which had been minding its own business in the corner of the garden.
After that the drenched duo did an “inspection” of the inside of the house and left wet paw prints everywhere.
Mrs P and I heaved a sigh of relief when our hosts laughed at the new chums and didn’t appear to be too fussed. Dog people obviously.
Eventually it was time to leave and we were bade farewell with the news George had passed the first audition and would be called back for another very soon. This time it would be for an overnight stay.
Proud as punch as we drove away, Mrs P and I felt like one of our kids had graduated from university. A far cry from doing a poo on stage when going up to get a leaving prize. George the dog that is. Not one of our kids.
From there the next audition was a relative doddle.
No 1 Son, plying his surgical trade in the South Island at present, has recently embarked on a new relationship. It’s going well. Very well in fact and naturally we are all delighted for the happy pair.
Work and other circumstances had conspired against me on several occasions in recent months and it meant I was the only one of the family who had yet to meet this young lady.
Luckily, she had entered a certain outdoors event not far from our home and when it finished she rang Mrs P. Could she come round for a cuppa and say hi? And would there be any chance of grabbing a shower? Naturally we said yes and within half an hour a cold, wet and muddy waif was walking up our garden path. Talk about first impressions.
Obviously, because I’m a dad, I yelled out: “Not today thanks”, as she neared the house but once the ice was broken – or should I say chipped off her frozen frame – we settled in for a good old natter.
Mud Girl is delightful.
She stayed for lunch, looked at No 1 Son’s baby pictures which Mrs P had brought out - as you do – answered all those questions protective parents have and totally won us over with her good nature.
As we waved her off later that afternoon I think it would be fair to say we both hoped to see a lot more of her in the future.
Mrs P agreed as much as she held a torch for me later as I attempted to unfasten the bottom of a tap from the inside of a bathroom vanity to find out why it had been dripping.
It was one of those repair jobs she has wanted me to do for ages. One that looks and sounds extremely simple on YouTube but most likely requires we pay a professional to fix it. I was less confident I could pretend to be a plumber and do it than she was.
But there I was, giving it a try, at the end of a long day of auditions.