Traveling (Lightly, & with Puppy) Tips

As I had my tooth prodded and cleaned out, I kept thinking, we need to travel lighter, for the upcoming trip.  All that boarding and disembarking of trains, negotiating stairs, cobblestoned streets, and country dirt roads, have taught me, that although a small bag is necessary, a wheeled bag is not always the most practical of ways to traverse terrain, with a pint-sized puppy in tow.

My New Plan
A.  New Equipment
1.  The Tumi Alpha Bravo Essential Tote

I love it (so far)!  Bruno loves it.  Lightweight, waterproof, bullet-proof- the works.  The details on the bag are practical and handsome.  If I laid a towel in it, it can easily double up as a dog carrier as well, as long as it stays unzipped (so Bruno can breathe).  It encourages organisation and negates the need to pack a purse.

2.  Pet Messenger Sling/Bag (Wagwear)

My new friend!  For public transportation, entry into stores, and other moments when you don't want your poor dog to be trampled upon, and need your hands free.

B.  Wardrobe

1.  Mine- London uniform but with red nail polish, as a gesture of respect to the city I am visiting.  

2.  Bruno-  Replicate London threads

Raincoat and jumper.

C.  Documents

Passports, proof of vaccinations for Bruno, map, utility bill with my name on it, and documentation proving that Summie is my daughter and legally at school (to pre-empt any misunderstanding for re-entry into the UK)

D.  Bruno's Other Stuff

toys, treats, food, flat-feeding dish, cleaning fluids, spoon, travel wipes, potty bags, towel, blankie, comb, water-bottle, and a contact of an English-speaking vet (veterinaire/ "veto")

It's a dog's life!

If there's space, I'm contemplating bringing his igloo bed as it packs easily and can be rolled out on a train journey for him to rest in, and allows him a sense of home at a new hotel.

E.  Tapeworm Treatment

Thinking ahead of our return into the UK, Bruno went to the vet this afternoon at 15:00 hours.  DEFRA laws require all dogs to be treated for tapeworm between 24- 120 hours prior to entering the UK.

Dr P also checked that Bruno's microchip was still readable, and that all his shots were still current.

I hope this helps someone in similar shoes.

Dental Drama

Today was a beautiful day.  The sky was blue, the rains came intermittently, the air crisp and cold.

Along Westbourne Grove, there is a lightness; people strolling, chatting.

Alone on this picture-perfect Saturday afternoon, I am scared.  I am feeling woeful and consumed with self-pity.

Trace asked how I found the dentist I am about to see.  I told her I researched dental practices within a 5-minute walk from my flat.  Dr P was my choice based on a few factors (clinic with the longest opening hours, housed in a Grade II- listed building with period features intact).  But the factor that clinched it for me was he had spent time at UCSD (University of California, San Diego).  If I am going to have to finally confront this toothache, I really need American bravado and bed-side manners.

The thing I am learning again and again with fear is, the sooner you step towards it, the easier and calmer things actually become.  I made the correct choice in a dentist.  Dr P and his nurse S were kind, gentle, calm.  They asked if I was nervous.  I replied that I was not thrilled.  They showed me diagrams, took an x-ray, talked me through the who/what/where/how.  I was never made to feel stupid,  nor ashamed, for being irresponsible with my broken tooth.  It was exactly as my husband had said to me- Trust American-training, where we are taught to empower the patient.  Provide context/information to the patient, for the patient can also play an active role in pain-management and healing.

Before he did anything, Dr P would address me by my name (I wish service in the UK and Singapore, would learn this invaluable American trait!), and then state what he was going to do.  This way, I was never made to feel caught off guard, more frightened than I already was.  He also encouraged me to raise my hand if I needed him to stop.

Was the experience painless?  No.  Is my threshold for pain, high-ish?  Yes, for now.

The story's not quite over though.  Next week, I have to return.  The drama has a new name.  Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present, Root Canal.

God Answers Prayers

God answered my prayer.

 Bruno slept soundly through the night.  He slept so soundly he actually overslept.

 His tummy stood firm.  Mid morning, he stirred, asked to be walked and performed all potty without any drama.  (Thank you, God!)

On the other hand, I awoke with a gnawing pain in my mouth at 3am.  I tossed, I turned.  I pleaded with the pain to go away.  Finally I googled, toothache.

3am becomes 4am, 4am segues into 5am.  5am in London is 1pm in Singapore.  During his lunch break, he prescribes a double dose of X, along with a single dose of Y.

I am in utter misery and much denial.  The pain is like an omnipresent dark cloud engulfing me.

I try taking some medication.  But the size of a single tablet creates an instant gag reflex.  At 11am, I surrender to toothache and start looking for a dentist within walking distance.

I have a dreaded appointment tomorrow.  At the eleventh hour, I am grateful daycare is able to help with Bruno, and very grateful Bruno's tummy is still doing fine.

I am scared.

I think God is also trying to say something.  I 'm not sure what He is saying.  Maybe I am not listening hard enough.

You see, tomorrow is also the day I had planned to head out to Surrey.

I was going to look at this midcentury house.  At 1600 sq ft, it is just the right size for me and my little family.

I saw the floor plans online.  It was as if someone had delved into Jon's and my imagination, and half a century ago, fleshed out, the house we sometimes dream of building.

So wonderfully simple, and so sensitive to the gradation of land and natural surrounds!  Be still my thumping heart and be gone, be gone my throbbing toothache!  

The garden leads to the edge of protected woodlands...

(I can't even relax my jaw to allow it to drop in wonder!)

 My (imaginary) pet horse could feasibly live out here.  I could even have that imaginary pig, and there will be space for a pack of dogs again.

I feel I know this house.  It has been sketched time and time again in my imagination.  The bathroom is even clad in the exact same tiles I've always drawn.

Open house is tomorrow, and I have to be strapped to a dentist chair instead!

Maybe God is saying, calm down, Tammy, take care of the internal (cavity/broken bits/decay) before you go off on another mad expedition.  Maybe God is saying, not this time.  Maybe God is saying, honestly can you manage all that land and do you know what a bitch windows are to clean.

Ok, God.  I hear You.  Jehovah Jireh, my Provider.

For I believe, someday, somehow, my imagination, will find me.

* All photographs of this house were found on The Modern House

Date Night

This morning, I think I made, a new friend.

Everything about her is sweetness and joy.  All day I kept wondering, how does one stay so sweet and obliging in this life journey?  How does one keep on trying and trying without any negativity?

Then I also thought, what have I done for Bruno lately?  Have I taken him for granted?

So I made reservations at an unfamiliar place off Kensington Church Street.  

(Dear God, thank you for everything.  I really love my neighborhood.  I am not sure what possessed me to look at that flat on Windsor Street this afternoon, but thank you, thank you God,  for kicking sense back into me.  I love you, God.  Amen.)

Shabby chic to the tune of more is more is more!

 Dinner Specials!

Bruno (if you can see him) anticipating...

Woah-a very salty and cheesy vegetable pot pie that stunned me with its size, but got gulped down easily between Bruno and me.

(Dear God, please help Bruno digest all this, and make it through the night without an upset tummy.  Thank you, God.  Amen.)

Verdict:  It's not the kind of cooking that will shatter beliefs and create cults.  The salt still lingers in my mouth, but everything is intimate, warm, and there is a sense of authenticity, of home, about the food.  Best of all, it is dog-friendly on the ground floor level, and my date fell fast asleep by the time dessert was served.

ZZZZZZ.....

(Dear God, please help Bruno stay well.  I know, I know it's not the wisest thing to feed him so much cheese given that he's had a sensitive tummy in recent times.  Please, God.  Thank you, God. I love you, God.  I will really try to be a better person/more responsible dog-owner, in the morning.  Amen.)

We left in the drizzle.  Ah, date night!

Maggie Jones, 6 Old Court Street

Sling It On

In preparation for our upcoming Spring Break, I have been researching alternative ways of carrying Bruno.  In a week's time, we will need to deal with four train rides, and the Eurotunnel, all on the same day.

We both love his Pod.  When he tucks himself in, the Pod allows for stealth mode and visits to unexpected places.

An Unexpected Visit...

I just wondered if there was a way we could move about with more efficiency, and less weight on my shoulders.

On-line I found images of dogs in slings.  The idea is to replicate the way you would cradle a baby (human/canine) in your arms, at the same time, letting your arms be free.  Someone raved about the American brand, Wagwear.  I remembered seeing something similar at Mungo and Maud.  To satiate my curiosity, we walked over this afternoon.

And the sling came home with us.

Bruno made the decision for us, happily climbing in when asked.

He waited patiently.

I picked him up and he nestled.

I think it did create the same sensation as when he is carried in my arms, for he relaxed instantly.

I walked around the store and was really pleased with the distribution of weight across my back.  The canvas is heavy-duty, the straps thick and adjustable.  There is a security latch and a padded bottom within.

Not only are my arms freed up, but I think it reduces the risk of him being snatched away from me.

To my delight?  I learnt it wasn't a Mungo and Maud product, but the very Wagwear Messenger Pouch Carrier gushed about!

www.wagwear.com/home.asp

"Social Butterfly"

In support of Cancer Research and Horse Welfare,

he encouraged me with a new dress, a new purse, and sent me off to "the ball".

I met some really nice people that evening.

Nice People!

 Arranged at my table, were the Random Man/Men, the Good Girlfriend, the Ingenue, the Young Couple Still in Love, and the Sorority Sisters.  There was a magician who resembled a roughish Hugh Grant.  There was Boris Becker.  There was a raffle to raise more money.

I missed my husband.  All through the night, I felt a strange emptiness in my belly.  If he was here, he would frame me, and I would perhaps be less confusing a guest to everyone who was meeting me for the first time.

I spent the night at the hotel.  Service was excellent.  I wish I could rave about the room I stayed in.  Its size was generous, bathroom cleaned.  But its decor and dust puzzled me.

Dust EVERYWHERE...

HMMMMMMMMMM....

The night before the ball, I had a free moment.  On impulse I called K.  At the same time, K had similar thoughts, so we excitedly agreed to meet in Soho.  On Rupert Street, I stepped into a teeny Japanese joint- the sort of place, I love eating at.  Using my very limited Japanese, and freshly mascara-ed lashes, I scored us counter seats, even as others were being turned away.  But when K came, she crushed the sushi chef's heart.

Then K suggested The Yard, a very popular boys' bar further up the same street.  And here's what I learnt that night.  Unaccompanied by my husband, the safest place for me to have a drink on a London Friday evening, is at a gay bar.  I was not sexually harassed.  I was not objectified.  I did not have to ignore lewd comments, nor sexual slurs.

So I had a great time.

The Yard, 57 Rupert Street

And then on my third glass of dry vino, I thought- hey, on Sunday after "the ball"?  If I got on my usual SQ flight?  I could actually make it back for KS's Monday night bash, and then The Arts House's 10th Year Anniversary!  Besides, I already have something to wear!

Something old, something new, something blue...

Finally found him a spa...

And spruced him up for Spring.

The Pet Spa, 96 Fulham Road