FLEA CIRCUS

"Is there ever a day when nothing is happening in your world?" I ask ex.

The winter sun is glinting through the fountains in the park, and ex and I are sitting on a bench with four dogs/child substitutes circling. I should be happy, even though I'm nearly forty and sitting on a park bench in working hours. "Just think," I said, "a couple of years ago we didn't have any dogs between us."

Just the day before ex and I had been circling the subject of ....................... intimacy. "I refuse to feel any guilt when I know now what you really want is a hairy chav." He mumbles something about spirituality. Plus I was up all night in agony over ex's dodgy prawn cocktail. I had to get out in the middle of my agony to squirt sealant into the skirting board and shut up the gnawing of mice.

This morning I get a call to come over.

The first dog we both looked after [and the first yorkshire terrier], I took over the first time, and then got my two dogs. The ex looked after it the second time it's owner was in hospital, and then after a brief flirtation with three legged "Elvis" got his own dog, a walking coffee table. The dog is in crisis a third time. Apparently her owner, a faded beauty with a painkiller addiction, has been whisked into hospital and her neighbour needed somewhere to dump the dog. I was nearly in tears recently, when in the post office and stood behind faded beauty's much younger Italian heroin addict b. friend and the pitiable remains of a once much-loved dog.

I rush over to ex's as the dog arrives. Ex is determined to keep her despite having to return her after three months when faded beauty came out of the hospital to kick her painkiller addiction, and despite now having his own dog.

"Wouldn't it be better to leave her as she is until someone official has seen her?" We both chicken out, and I still have my qualms about taking someone else's dog [I ran in the road when ex tried that with me] until I see the state of the dogs under carriage. See pic. [I never said this blog was tasteful!]

The dog is covered in flea shit, as well as fleas of every size, seriously underweight and a 'knife and fork' haircut. If ever my dogs look a little frayed around the edges, I always felt shame about how faded beauty used to bath and groom her dog every five minutes, no exaggeration.

I'm giving the dog the works on ex's doorstep, flea spray, trim, and combing out fleas. Neighbour one side said she washes her cats regularly! "I don't care, their in my house." Neighbour other side has just come back from Prague. "Oh, on a photoshoot?" I quip. That's for wondering loudly on the phone whether ex's current lover is the skinny one with two dogs or the fat one in the tracksuit. Cheeky queen! A bath with Boots Coconut and Almond Oil shampoo [my reccomendation, anything else goes sticky after a week] and dog is looking dramatically better. Before you think I'm too camp, I havn't shaved in a week and I'm not sure how fresh my underwear is.

I urge ex to call someone for legal advice, and we go out to the park. I collapse at home after and call round later. Hairy straight neighbour esconced in front room while ex and he try and work out how to get gay movies "on demand" on the cable that took a week of stress to get installed. How helpful. Ex still hasn't rung anyone, despite having millionaire relation high up in some animal charity. "You can just ring up and say you're asking for a friend." Turns out ex is paranoid. "You've got to remember they bugged the phones where I come from." Well, he might not have been arrested for absconding from National Service if he hadn't dyed his hair red!

Dread to think how this is all going to turn out.