Have you been aware that this period of social isolation has raised some interesting moral dilemmas for the thinking retirement blog writer? It may be no more than having too much time to consider the small print of life. Or it could be that there are some genuinely important issues laid bare by this period of social drought.
If you’ve read this retirement blog in the past you will be aware that dogs and friends have long been with us as topics. Dogs have featured in our retirement right from the word go. Not that Mrs Summerhouse was thrilled when I told her, soon after we retired that I had committed us to not one dog but two. She had anticipated that our retirement would involve much in the way of long-distance travel not looking after two stroppy collies.
Friends as a topic were somewhat differed in retirement. In the opposite direction in fact – we lost friends rather than acquired them. Two of the ones we probably should have lost (him particularly) came round for a meal last week. These are the ones who we have typically gone out for a meal once a month pre pandemic. So lockdown has had its positive aspects in that this hasn’t happened. Until last week when they came round to our house for a meal.
It didn’t take long for their charm to come flooding back to me. Why is your arch leaning over (as we sat in the garden having a drink?) After a visit to the bathroom he asked what’s that horrible stuff on your tap? He scoffed about my misuse of my new tablet box when I told him I had trouble remembering to fill it up on a weekly basis. I said I thought the cricket was poor. Oh, he shot back, I rather enjoyed it. If I’d have said it was good he would have said it was rather poor. You know the sort? Oh, you don’t, must be me then.
But all this was merely good-natured banter (wasn’t it?) and at least he kept off Leicester City winning the FA Cup. But where it really went wrong was his attitude to our dogs. Please God (or whoever) let me make a choice between friends (these friends) and our dogs. Now in a world full of complexity and difficult choices this would be a doddle.
Have you ever tried to explain to non dog-loving people why you love your doggies so much and why you don’t want to leave them for any length of time? We were talking about our proposed trip to America in September and why we felt OK about leaving them for a couple of weeks with our farm-owning friend, but no longer than that. I made the massive mistake of trying to explain the voyage on The Queen Mary. That gave them plenty to scoff at I can tell you. More fool me?
Take my word for it, it’s pointless trying to explain. They either genuinely don’t get it or they don’t want to. This couple don’t have any kids either which can mellow a person out, make them a little more understanding of other people’s peccadilloes. Including a sometimes quite weird attitude to our canine friends.
Why don’t you just get somebody to look after them for a couple of months? He asked. How could I explain that I would be more worried if they settled down quite happily as opposed to them not settling down at all? But it was his snidey attitude to our dogs that most irritated me. Millie’s put on weight, she’s positively chunky, the female half said. Archie did not escape the verbal lash either. Why does that dog always have his tongue out? He knows full well why. He has an extra-long tongue and always has had. I mean, would it kill you to say something nice about them, I wondered.
For example you could say how bright they were. I can name numerous examples of Archie’s intelligence and he’s not even the brightest one. For example, a couple of weeks ago we were having our traditional 4 digestive biscuits with our early morning mug of tea. We being me and the two doggies. But there was only three biscuits in the old packet and I didn’t want to bother opening a new one because they’re a bit of a pain to open.
So after the third biscuit I said to Archie, that’s it ‘all gone’ as I usually do after 4 biscuits (yes I lied). He just stood there and looked at me and looked and looked. I gave in and said alright then I’ll open the new packet, which I did and we shared the fourth biscuit. Immediately we had done so he turned round and left the room.
Now that’s far brighter than our friends for all their PhDs and the dogs don’t make a big thing of their brightness. True the dogs would not have been able to tell me what onomatopoeia (had to look up how to spell it, it means the word is named after the sound it makes, no I know that’s not clear either) means as our clever friends could, but really who couldn’t get by without knowing that? Whereas knowing you’d only had three digestives when you’re entitled to four, now that’s important.
Anyway that’s probably enough of dogs and friends, well friends anyway. And I realise I don’t come out of all this very well. I sound like the disloyal type of friend don’t I? Just let me say that I don’t feel this way about all our friends before they start bombarding me with objections about my loyalty.
So this is retirement and you’re probably saying about now, you don’t deserve to have friends Mr Summerhouse. You’re probably right. But then this retirement blog was definitely therapeutic.