Decision made

For a long time now, we have been promising the children that once we'd settled in Spain, we'd get a dog.
We thought we'd solved the situation perfectly when we offered to take the little dog that lives with Cesar's parents - Nemo - particularly as he seemed quite sad living in La Flecha. He only didn't come down to Andalucia with us in January because it would have been wrong to bring him to a 5th floor apartment - he was small enough to fit through the railings and add further to my nightmares.

In the intervening time, Cesar's mother has been suffering with the idea of losing him. She's spent most of the year with her own father in Leon and Nemo has been in the house where all our furniture has been stored - and there he is so happy, he's grown the additional proverbial tail. Nemo has been removed from the equation we are contemplating here.

I have been making enquiries around here to find out about adoption and rescue places for dogs.
Secretly.

Cesar knows he made the promise but also knows the additional tie a dog brings; the extra consideration on all spontaneous or planned outings; the additional tasks of cleaning up/sorting out/managing and controlling a dog - and has been cold feeting me recently when approached about the idea.

But I engaged the children in a pincer-movement with me over the past two days because I have found a place near Malaga that takes in strays and advertises for adoption - and have been exchanging emails with the lovely people there. In May, a pregnant dog was found in someone's garden and brought in - within a few days, she'd had pups... eight of them. And one of them has been calling me.

The children have been on their very best behaviour - avoiding the 'n' word when asked to do things; tidying up voluntarily; reducing TV watching time to a healthier level and playing board games together for ...ooh, at least 20 minutes before reaching irreconcilable differences. And yesterday, with the warmth of the roof tiles on our feet and the view of La Mota in front of us, I put the question to Cesar again.

And whilst the response was more resignation than enthusiasm, it was not negative and so we have taken this as a big 'YES'!

Our plan had been to go to Malaga on Tuesday anyway - trip to IKEA has become essential to pick up some shelving units - that's when we will go and pick up our puppy.

He has been given the name 'Rolly' but we've enjoyed thinking of names we could give him, including:

Luther - Mateo's favourite and a distinct front-runner

Leo or Zeus - put forward by Ruy

Spot, Truffle,Wally, Zak - Romy's suggestions

Bach or Moose - my suggestions

Rico or Trufa - from Cesar (we won't include his suggestion of Whisky!)

We are unlikely to agree - we never do - and so the poor little thing will probably end up with Rolly - which I am sure is meant to be Roly as in Roly Poly, but which we've been saying as Rolly, as in Dolly, Lolly, Molly, etc.

We need a bit of help here!

And until Tuesday, a little patience and controlling of excitement!!