Do you ever find that your inspiration, for whatever it may be, strikes at the weirdest times?
Inspiration usually hits me the second I close my eyes to go to sleep; a million and one thoughts from the day filter through my mind and I see hear (sounds sinister) vivid sentences of how I would tell you all (in blog form) about the funny or frustrating thing that happened that day. When this happens, I text myself. Thatâs right, I have a text conversation between me and me going on and I highly recommend it; itâs very cathartic.
However I also text myself other things such as items we need from the shop and appointment reminders. My current me-to-me text screen looks like:

Iâm awaiting a welfare call from O2 anyyyy day now to be honest!
Inspiration hit me like a ton of bricks on Sunday evening, which is a surprisingly nice and welcomed change from the usual SMONDAY feeling (you know, the moment Sunday stops feeling like a Sunday and the anxiety of Monday kicks in).
Sunday evening Paul, Charlie and I settled down to watch the film âMarley and Meâ. I imagine many of you have watched âMarley and Meâ before, as have I, but Paul had not; discovering the function of human eye brows AND watching âMarley and Meâ, big week for Paul.
I genuinely think a film can change your life but maybe Iâm being dramatic (shock)? I certainly think a film can change your perspective though; if only for a little while.
You know when you watch a really good film just at the right time that you needed to watch it to have that eye opening moment where you are like âI need to be more gratefulâ or âI need to spend more time with my familyâ or if the film is really good then âTHIS IS WHAT IS REALLY IMPORTANT IN LIFEâ?
There a few films Iâve watched in my time that have this effect on me (and my perception) these are; Click, About Time, In Time and Marley and Me for anyone who is wondering. Side note: Iâd love to hear any of your life changing film recommendations in the comments. Well, Sunday night was exactly that but first I am going to take you through what feels like a hectic week.
I donât know if Iâm alone with this vibe but honestly the last week, for me, has felt hectic? I donât know if it has been hectic in my own mind or hectic in real life, but its been hectic nonetheless.
Paul and I work in very different jobs; he is an Electronic Engineer for a car company and Iâm a Childrenâs Mental Health Practitioner for the NHS. We are both lucky enough to still be in work, given the current situation. However, we are exactly that; STILL WORKING, from home⌠with an energetic Charlie! Charlie is 13 weeks old now and in the last week or so I have definitely noticed a change in his energy levels (and the size of the poo he now produces). Those cute little âmad half-hoursâ we used to refer to are definitely getting longer and more adventurous; adventurous, as in kamikazing off the back of the sofa whilst Iâm attempting to have a professional video conference call, adventurous. He has had his second set of puppy vaccinations and is almost allowed to go for walks and BOYYYYYY is he ARE WE ready for them; this dog needs wearing out!
Monday morning, whilst on my morning team meeting call, I clocked Charlie out of the corner of my eye âsniffing lowâ and âcirclingâ; both of which are tell-tale signs heâs about to poo. I found myself once again trying to telepathically send messages to my dog; though this time not remorseful messages like in grape gate. No, no, this time Iâm sending authoritative telepathic messages like âDONâT. YOU. DARE.â, quickly followed by a slightly less authoritative âOK PLEASE, PLEASE DONâT?â.
YEP, he did.
Charlie dropped one and not just any one, a big morning one, on the floor in front of me. Whatâs worse, he looked me DEAD in the eye whilst doing so. SLY. So whilst my colleagues discuss and attentively listen to serious business continuity plans and service offers, Iâm mouthing *censored* âNO. VERY. NAUGHTYâ whilst picking up poo. What a time to be alive!
I feel like I spent the WHOLE of Saturday attempting to discipline Charlie speaking to myself. It was one big shouty blur of âNo Charlieâ, âGet down, Charlieâ, âGet back here with thatâ, âNo bitingâ, âNo bitingâ, âNO BITINGâ.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
THE BITING!
Charlie loves nothing more than a juicy, fleshy human hand in his mouth; though a stolen dirty sock may come close. We know heâs not biting us aggressively and this bitey/chewy stage of puppy-hood is like a rite of passage but, IT HURTS! Initially Paul and I were like âAw cute little bitiesâ, âHeâs showing us affectionâ, âAwwwww he lovessss usssssssâ as Charlie savagely chomped down on our hands. However, 4 weeks and some broken skin later, not so cuties guys!
Weâve tried the âNO BITINGâ thing for a while. Weâve tried replacing our hands with numerous different chew toys. Weâve tried âtime outâ in puppy prison. Quite frankly we are getting nowhere fast. So now, now weâre trying something new, something a little âoutside of the boxâ, something you wonât find in a puppy training book or in a YouTube video, something âinnovativeâ if you like. Paul is learning German through work so right now weâre trying âCharlie, KEIN BEIĂENâ which is the German translation for âNO BITINGâ and it weirdly seems to work. Maybe our boy is from German heritage? *checks KC registration blood line*.
Paul and I refer to Charlieâs puppy teeth as âThe Shreddersâ and this week âThe Shreddersâ have had a ball (I wish I was referring to the round rubber object).

Charlie and âThe Shreddersâ have successfully made their way through a new foam dog mattress, a crocodile (R.I.P) chew toy, a watermelon squeaker, a rope tug-of-war toy and a gym top; thatâs the last few days alone. Honestly, the amount of times Iâve had my whole hand in Charlieâs mouth this week has been a joke; my friend Hanna tells me you arenât an official paw-rent until youâve had your hand deep within the crevices of your dogâs mouth (and beyond). Lucky us!
Despite my hands in his mouth 90% of the week, Charlie managed to successfully INGEST the bright green foam from inside his mattress. Iâm seriously out here worrying about if the food we feed him is good enough and if it has enough meat content and this guy will literally just eat foam insulation? Said ingestion resulted in a nice bright green poo for us the next day (yay!). This blog is inadvertently turning out to be a lot more poo focused than originally planned, apologies if anyone is eating. Whilst we are on a roll with the poo stories though..
The day that Charlie moved to his forever home, he made his presence well known by christening (A.K.A weeing on) the living room rug, whilst on FaceTime to Paulâs mum actually! For the last four weeks said rug has been rolled up and stored safely away from any puppy urine (and the shredders). This week we made the bold move of returning the rug to its rightful spot.
Within the hour there was a little wet patch on the rug; no biggie a mother can forgive a little excited dribble canât she? The culprit was not caught on the first occasion but he was later spotted returning to the scene of the crime for further criminalities. These âfurther criminalitiesâ I refer to are not just little excited wee wee dribbles anymore; no, no weâre talking poo now. The other day I caught Charlie hot in the act, legs spread, hunched over, mid squat, bang center of the rug, about to go for sheer gold!
I relive the following in true feature film slow motion style. I clock the squat, we lock eyes and I shout âNOOOOOOOOOO NOT ON THEEEE RUGGGGGGGGGGGâ as I drop what Iâm doing to Baywatch style run towards Charlie. I swiftly pick him up, split second thoughts racing through my mind âIâm never going to make it outside in timeâ, âwhere next?â, âNext best thing, next best thingâ, âPUPPY MAT!â. In a blind panic, I swing around the living room door accidentally giving Charlieâs already peaking poo a little side-ward gravity. An unsuspecting Paul, sitting in his office, turns around to be greeted by a small amount of poo slow-motion flying through the air before taking a skid landing directly at his feet. Honestly, Paul and I have laughed so hard about this since, but at the time I was so stressed and so frustrated; I was doing a lot of things but laughing was not one of them.
As I write this Iâm considering if what Iâm actually describing to you all here is just real life kicking in. Maybe for the past 4 weeks weâve been in some sort of âpuppy-moonâ period where weâve only seen the good because weâve been so loved up that even the bad has been considered to be cute or funny? Maybe Iâm tired this week? Maybe itâs our ever growing pup becoming more confident and challenging? Maybe heâs a little asshole sometimes? Maybe itâs the uncertainty that we are presented with in the news daily making me anxious? Maybe itâs Maybelline? Who knows? But it doesnât matter because ALL of that went out the window on Sunday night when we watched âMarley and Meâ.
Paul and I are both not afraid to say that on Sunday night we SOBBED! We sobbed for the dogs we have lost and we proper ugly cried at the thought of ever loosing Charlie in the future; heâs literally 13 weeks old and Iâm like âDONâT YOU DARE EVER DIE!â. After the film, we lay on the living room floor, for about an hour, just FREAKING Charlie out by staring at him and telling him how amazing he is (heâs totally developing an ego). We told him (in English so he might not have understood) that we started a family the day we met him, we promised him all the best times (probably over promised actually as I recall committing to at least an hour of belly rubs a day). I genuinely sniffled to Paul âIâll never tell him off for weeing on the rug againâ. Needless to say Lord Charlie slept, like the spoilt little baby he is, slap bang between Paul and I in bed that night.
Donât get me wrong, Iâm sure in a few hours daysâ time Iâll be back to shouting at Charlie for chewing another expensive item of clothing or cursing him for having to scrub the poor rug for the 600th time in a week but, for now, I am appreciating the sleepy little German chap right next to me for exactly what he is; asshole behaviour and all. Charlie makes some of the days more stressful but he makes ALL of the days more enjoyable.
Sometimes in life you need a little perspective check; a reminder to take the bad with the good because it all makes up the memories. The Sunday night film was that âperspective checkâ for me and I hope this blog post can be that for you.
Quick, go and squeeze your doggos!
Bald Sprechen,
Rachael, Paul and Charlie x
