We panic bought an 8-week-old cavadoodle puppy the day before lockdown, called him Bear and he's now the most energetic and sweet-natured little fun ball of fluff ever.
Well, not so little. He's 5 months old, over 10kg and currently growing at like a kilogram a week. He's quarter Labrador, hence the growing … and our growing food bill!
My fiancée, Tiffany, was catching up with a friend this week for breakfast at a cafe that shall remain nameless out the Mount. It was to celebrate her friend's engagement, what a lovely time.
Or so she thought …
That day Tiff got up and fed the dog earlier than usual so she could take him to the cafe.
She had a nice catch up with her friend and then it was about time to leave and she bumped into a guy she hadn't seen for a decade and they got chatting.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the dog sniffing. He does this because he's a dog, but just to be mildly annoying he also does this right before it's time to clear his bowels.
She keeps talking to old mate thinking it's a normal sniff he's doing. Then the worst happens.
She sees him squat in the poo position. If you have ever owned a dog you know exactly what this looks like (it's even worse when they look directly at you and into your soul when they do it, but I digress).
Tiff yells: "No no no no noooooooo!"
Runs over to him and picks him up from the cafe floor and carries him, her arms outstretched, outside.
As she is doing this Bear does not feel the need to stop what he's doing as she's running him out.
Then, just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, he wriggles out of her hands and makes a run for it.
To be fair, if someone was holding me aloft and I was right in the middle of a satisfying expulsion then I'd be pretty keen to gap it too!
But his place of choice to head for?
The middle of busy Maunganui Rd, peak morning traffic.
Luckily the traffic is moving slowly, so vehicles both ways jam on their brakes and Bear, without a care in the world, finishes his business right in the middle of Maunganui Rd in front of all the traffic and cafe.
Tiff, by this stage, is mortified beyond words, is running to the middle of the road and picking up the dog and taking him back to the cafe.
When she walks back in the guy she hasn't seen for a decade, bless him, has covered part of the mess with a chair and says he's really sorry but he has to get to work.
I'm pretty sure she won't see him for another 10 years.
Tiff cleans up the mess, gets her bag and leaves her food and drink and just bolts for the car to get as far away from the incident as possible.
What have we learned here?
That our dog does his business about one hour after his breakfast. Pretty much on the dot. Wherever he is!
People in a cafe at the Mount this week got breakfast and a show.
Some people should only catch up every 10 years.
Oh, and we can clearly never go back to the cafe again!