Well pack, neighbours and all my friends here we are again.
The first few months were frantic.
I was multitasking, one minute supervising administration the next my civil engineering and building hats on as a new office was created to keep staff in during the day when they were not doing my bidding. Then my landscaping skills were called for as work was carried out by staff under my direction in the garden. To be frank I am totally exhausted most days and so enjoy my bed after I push one of the other of my staff out, serves them right for not getting the bigger bed from the garage. I even have to have a Siesta myself in summer.
The garage was full of furniture, unsurprisingly as staff had also brought the contents of my new kennel in a blood rush to their respective heads I fear. There was much of male staffs very important items (Ummm that description is open to interpretation) but did include a nearly new bed which male staff had said I could have a new mattress on once we arrived in Spain. Eventually a path way had been cleared to the aforementioned bed frame. I must admit that I had cheated as you are aware by pushing both out of bed as they slept to remind them that a king size or super kingsize was essential for a dogs good sleep. Eventually my staff and I went down to the "The Sleep Centre", lovely helpful people I might add. I leapt upon the first bed but was speedily removed by female staff, as a warning eyebrow was raised behind the counter, ooops! Male staff was insistent that we had a particular kingsize bed and he duly paid for the new mattress, wincing as he does at actually parting with money.
Off home we went and staff agreed in anticipation of the new mattress due to arrive in two days that they would take the old bed out of my bedroom and put the new bed-frame together with the old mattress, even though it was too narrow being a 4ft 6inch. I supervised but I am certain that all was not well, when the 4ft 6 inch mattress exactly fitted the new bed frame. Male staff huffed off and went straight for the cooking sherry, whilst female staff was in paroxysms of silent laughter. Eventually male staff shamefacedly rang "The Sleep Centre", and requested a new 4ft 6inch mattress. I raised my eyes to the sky in despair, I can see I am going to have my work cut out keeping these two under my paw of iron. I guess he will have to sleep in my dog bed then? If you think that was the end of the bed saga, just wait ! A dog needs a BIG bed if they are to share it with the two paws.
I insisted that staff toe the line and knowing male staffs habit of letting standards slip or indeed slipping into the nearest bar. I was formally registered and received my resident dogs card, my passport had Spain added to it, thats me international dog of mystery, Romania, United Kingdom (South Ferring actually) and now Spain. Male and female staff applied for their health cards and residencia and male staff even registered to pay tax, which was probably a first for him. They both obtained Spanish driving licences, which surprised me, having travelled with them both. First time I have experienced driving by touch was when I met up with my new staff members and was chauffeured around in the dog mobile (Renault Scenic), although I was particularly observant if I allowed them to drive my Mercedes Benz and it was kept virtually unscathed.
After several wonderful social evenings with the marvellous Sue and Alan next door, I realised that during these early months they were keeping me sane, also raising the tone of conversation that I was normally subjected to. They also keep Serrano Ham for me to sample, so much consideration and kindness to me, I can now get from my kennel to theirs in 5.2 seconds when the gates are open. They are wonderful cooks, which brings me on to another area. I managed to get my staff enrolled on the Spanish beginners class, organised by our wonderful Town Hall. It was apparent that staffs mumblings were not conducive to a new life in Spain, whilst I could now bark in three languages, having practiced my Spanish bark since I knew I would be moving to Arboleas. I would accompany them to the classroom and stay outside in the car to ensure they did not slink down to Maloans bar as was their wont when unsupervised. Back in my new kennel male staff often cooks and on these occasions, there is much coughing with smoke emitting from the kitchen window, prior to him carrying out some unrecognisable charred item which he proudly offers to the table, inevitably the Bombero's would arrive and staffs new found language skills went some way to placating them, along with bottles of beer. Actually we did receive a note prior to the first Christmas lunch, requesting that male staff kept away from the kitchen, as the Bomberos would like to enjoy their Christmas dinner too. Fortunately the wonderful Sue and Alan invited me to Christmas dinner and staff were allowed to accompany as long as I kept the cooking sherry under lock and key for the whole day.
Just prior to our first Christmas in Spain, male staff was sent back to the UK in the english registered "Dogmobile", with instructions to return with my Mercedes Benz. I had left it to be sold, however or fortunately this coincided with the UK's anti diesel engine paranoia and the Mercedes was still there. Sometime later staff returned with my car and now I could be transported in the style I deserved.
It was pleasing to see how much all our household were enjoying our new life in Arboleas with trips out and gentle lunches in our area.
Well up comes the bed issue, again, as summer approaches once more. In the winter, I noticed, there were no complaints in having a "Hot Dog", sleeping on the duvet for staff to snuggle up too. Male staff noticed a large Spanish bed-frame advertised for sale at a good price (that means cheap in male staff terms). I groaned, these schemes of his tend to end in disaster, however he painted a wondrous picture to female staff and I, of this luxurious new bed. We have been here before I thought to myself.
The rest of this tale, is as my good friend Alan, recounted it to me, as he had been co-opted into the hare brain scheme to use his larger car for transport. Off they go like Steptoe and son, well neighbour. They drive to Baza and stop at a filling station to call the vendor of the bed as arranged. The vendor said "Great I will be 5 minutes". After quite a while said Alan, "a dented 4x4 arrived" and the chap driving said follow me, there is a bit of unmade road but it is fine. I rolled my eyes to the skies as I heard this and held my breath. Poor Alan and I were sitting under his sun shade whilst he fortified himself to settle his nerves from his ordeal as male staff had driven apparently. "Well" said Alan, the tarmac road stopped after 50 metres and then they were bouncing across the desert, up hill down Rambla's, across rustic bridges. After half an hour they approached by way of a washed out track, now angled at 40 degrees sideways, a compound came into view surrounded by 3 metre high fencing. We were told to stop and wait, whilst the dogs were put away, then we drove in to the compound which enclosed a cave house. By now temperature outside was 40 degrees and leaving the car, they were brought into the cave house which was cool. The bed is in one of the rooms we haven't decorated so stay here, we will bring it through. Apparently male staff was delighted with his purchase and it was duly loaded in the car. "You can find your way back OK? "said the vendor "fine" said male staff. Off they went. Eventually they regained the highway. After a while Alan said to staff "What is that odd smell?" After much prompting, male staff admitted he could smell it too, the bed frame was the culprit. Alan told me, he had said, Skye and other staff won't like that, as male staff shrunk down in the driving seat. I was waiting back at home and after nearly 4 hours they returned and the bed-frame was unloaded by a crestfallen male staff. "It might need a bit of tidying up" he said defensively whilst female staff just sniffed, sniffed again and turned on her heels to head for the gin bottle. The bed frame was left leaning against the garage.
Bearing in mind that this was high summer, the bed frame had been left out in nearly 40 degrees of heat, for about a week. Then male staff whose ego had been severely deflated by the bed episode, gathered female staff and I together and said "He could make the bed-frame good, remove the old paint and re-paint it, which would seal the last vestiges of the objectionable odour in”.
We all agreed more out of hope than anticipation. However after stripping the finials and after much use of sandpaper and sweat, male staff set to painting the head and foot boards. I had to step in as I felt great pity for him by now having seen his first results. "Look here" said I, "do not try to spray paint in 40 degrees of heat, by the time the paint hits the wood you are spraying sand onto it !" He was so grateful, I said to him "Have a long siesta, do not go to the bar ! And at around 10 pm, try it then or get up early (fat chance) and do it at 5 am". End result pretty good. And thanks again to the wonderful Alan, when a mattress materialised and I could have a good nights sleep at last. I do like happy endings,
Dogs rule of course. 🐾🐾
