So, the last few months have been a bit crazy for us…  Between car issues (best not ask), technical issues (apparently when your laptop is hanging on by one hinge for several months, it’s a good idea to get it fixed sooner rather than later, as opposed to whacking a lump of Blu Tack on and hoping for the best), health issues (up to and including our sweet #4), social issues (especially for #2), change of routine/ASD meltdowns, and so much more.  To be honest, there have been days where there has been very little to laugh about.

One bright spot has been our lovely (yet simultaneously infuriating) 8 month old French Bulldog, Rolo.  I’ve lost count how many times I’ve called him our Best Boy in one breath and a Little Sh*t in the next.  But anyway.

With #2 struggling mightily with her transition to Big School (and with one of her special interests being dogs), and knowing how beneficial it can be for self regulation, we had already been thinking of getting a dog at some point.  However, “at some point” turned into “right now” back in November, when a fellow ASD parent posted in a support group we’re both in about how she wanted to bless another family in the run up to Christmas…

I’ll not say I guilted The Old Progenitor into it, or that I had already been looking at photos of Frenchies on Gumtree or anything like that…  But within a couple of hours of clearing it with the landlord, myself and #2 were swinging into Pets at Home to buy the necessities before picking up the new addition to the family… before anyone could change their mind.

Initially we were thinking he’d make a good emotional support/therapy dog.  This was before we discovered that Frenchies are notoriously stubborn, and, while I haven’t quite given up on that dream yet, in the short term I will settle for him to stop “twerking” (as the girls call it) and to consistently go to the loo outside.  While we initially planned for him to be primarily #2’s dog, when he isn’t trying to kill himself, he can usually be found lying along the back of my armchair, letting it all hang out, snoring like he needs his own CPAP machine, and letting off the most toxic farts.

I’m really selling the whole family pet thing here, aren’t I?

He’s been hard work, I will not pretend otherwise, and he regularly has my nerves shot to pieces due to having absolutely no sense whatsoever when it comes to eating things that are not actually edible (like 80-something-cm of sparkly green ribbon, or sweet wrappers, or kitchen roll, or shards of plastic from a pen that he has just chewed, or, well, anything and everything)… But he’s so loveable and goofy and adorable, that it makes up for the mayhem.  He loves to snuggle and certainly has a knack of picking his moments when the snuggles are most needed.  Maybe he’ll make a good therapy dog after all.

I draw the line at calling him our “fur baby”, though, you’ll be glad to hear…

Of course, while he’s been the cause of much stress, and also much amusement, over the last few months, it’s not always him that is the one delivering the humour…

A couple of days ago, #5 was sitting on my lap, with Rolo snuggling with both of us.  The exchange went something along these lines:

“I spy with my little eye, something…  Hang on, what colour is Rolo?”

“Grey.”  (Technically he’s lilac and tan, but anyway.)

“Ah!  Okay.  I spy with my little eye, something grey!”

“Is it ROLO, by any chance?!”

“YES, Mummy!  Well DONE!  Uhhh… why are you laughing?!”

It’s one up on the last time she played I Spy with me…  She “spied” something orange, and answered “no” to every single orange thing I could see around me in the room we were in.  Finally, I gave up and asked her what the answer was.

“Carrots!”

“But…. there are no carrots in here?!?”

“Ugh.  Are you serious?  They’re invisible!!!”

There’s…. not really much I can say about that.  Never a dull moment around here!