It's all about the routine

I promised myself that today's blog post wouldn't all be about the dog. And it won't be. But he will feature quite prominently - he has, after all, taken up a large amount of our day. I apologise in advance if you are trying to eat your breakfast while reading this. Just like parents of a new baby, the main topic of conversation in our house today has been Reggie's bowel and bladder movements (what have we turned into?!!).

After dinner last night, as we sat chatting with Nick and Tess, Nick searched the internet for advice on toilet training puppies. He found several articles, cross referenced them, and between us we came up with what seemed to be the best master plan: take Reggie out after he wakes from a nap, after eating a meal, and generally once every hour or so, and always stick to the same routine. When taking him outside for toilet duties, the advice is to use a word that he will associate with the action (after the internet suggested 'eliminate' and we gave due consideration to 'evacuate', we plumped for a simple 'toilet'), and of course to give a large amount of praise when he performs the action outside. Google also suggested that taking him to the same spot each time would be helpful as he will be able to smell 'toilety' smells and that will encourage him.

We started the regime before bed, with Tess and me taking Reggie out for 'toilet' in the pouring rain. He, of course, didn't realise what was wanted of him, and pranced about the lawn, did lots of nice sitting, and kept looking at us in utter bewilderment ('Why are we all standing out here in the pitch black and pouring rain getting soaked and freezing cold? And why do you keep shining a torch at me? Can I go back to bed now?'). Finally, though, after what felt like an age, he capitulated and received much praise from both of us.

We took soggy pup back indoors and let him get back to his bed, before Nick and Tess decided they would also call it a night, and we headed to bed as well. The plan (half-plan, without fully committing to it) was to set an alarm for around 4am, get up and take Reggie outside, then go back to bed again. Stuart gallantly took it upon himself to set his alarm, and off we went to bed.

At 3.45am, we both awoke to the sound of the alarm (actually Italian radio), confused and disorientated. After a 10-minute snooze, I was surprised to see Stuart climbing out of bed and pulling on his warm clothes (I hadn't expected the plan to come to fruition). I heard him head downstairs and out the front door - and I checked the time on the clock to see how long it would take poor Reggie to perform in the middle of the night. I was astonished to hear the front door opening and closing again just two minutes later, and Stuart coming back upstairs - I thought he must have forgotten to take a torch out or something but no, everything had gone like clockwork, Reggie (who had to be lifted out of his bed as he was too sleepy to get up) had performed immediately on getting outside and everyone was able to get back to bed.

After the 4am toilet trip, there was a solid ten minutes or so of whining and whimpering, but that eventually calmed down and we all got back to our peaceful night's sleep.

Come 7am I knew it was my turn to take the reigns, as it were, and I left Stuart to grab a few more minutes sleep while I came downstairs, fed the cats, put Reggie's lead on, grabbed the goose feeder and headed outside. The logistics were a bit tricky - should I open up the goose house first, with Reggie tied to an olive tree (and run the risk of him doing his business without me there to witness and give appropriate praise for it) or should I deal with Reggie first (including taking him for a walk along the drive and back) and leave the geese to get more annoyed at being cooped up for a bit longer. In the end, I decided to tie Reggie's lead to the olive tree, run into the goose enclosure to open their house and put their feeder in, but leave clearing their sawdust out until after I'd dealt with Reggie.

Reggie waited patiently by the tree, then came down to the lawn with me - did his business almost on cue - then we went for a walk up and down the drive before going inside for some doggy breakfast, by which time Stuart was up and able to supervise him while I went back to clean the goose house.

All animals fed and watered, I showered, had breakfast and then we all set to work for the day.

Tess and Nick spent most of the day continuing with the re-pointing of the garden wall under the shelter of the tarpaulin. Much of the morning was dry, but the afternoon was wet and soggy yet again, so the tarpaulin was put to good use (to protect the mortar as well as the workers). Meanwhile, Stuart concreted in a few more of the fence posts around the garden.

Tarpaulin work area.

The workers!

My morning was spent trying to get some office work done, but with a time schedule beside me of toilet trips for Reggie (trying to stick to the Master Plan). I therefore made quite a few trips out to the garden and ended up simply wearing my wellies all day, even while sitting at my desk (what has my life turned into? I used to wear smart clothes and heels to work, now I'm sitting in wellies!).

Reggie himself spent most of the morning dozing in his cage - which at least meant I had fewer distractions than yesterday when I had attempted to have him in the office with me and had to constantly stop him from chewing vitals equipment or eating non-edible substances.

After a lunch of celery and celeriac soup, the rain really started in earnest again. Nick and Tess continued with re-pointing, and then Nick moved on to starting the big clearout of the rubbish shed. Amongst other things he has so far found: a large Thermos flask, a swimming pool, another fairly sizeable wood pile (yay! something useful!), a satellite dish, three wooden garden chairs (two of which are fully functional), a couple of pairs of steps, two electric chainsaws, some old windows... and the list goes on.

And so the rubbish collecting starts all over again.

Spot the dog - I couldn't resist one photo of Reggie.

Stuart, meanwhile, helped with a bit of the re-pointing, then turned his attention to trying to reconstruct the wood piles (or rather their cover), this time stapling the tarpaulin to some wooden struts to try and create a stronger 'roof'.

5pm rolled around very quickly. For your benefit, I have omitted from this post the description of the 10-12 other Reggie 'toilet' trips that were made through the day with varying degrees of success. I say that there were varying degrees of success, but the fact of the matter is that it is now 24 hours since he last performed any sort of toilet activity inside the house - we have had a dry day and night (see, just like a new parent talking about a baby), and I'll take that as a success!

At 5pm, it was time for me to drive down the hill to Pescia, pick up Sue, and drive to Rita's flat for our weekly Italian lesson. As always, it was a fun 'hour' (the lessons - which are always a mixture of a bit of Italian and a bit of chatting in English - usually last about an hour and a half, if not more), but the more we learn about the language, the more impossible it seems! I comfort myself with the thought that if I learn at least one new word or phrase each week, I'm doing better than if I hadn't gone.

By the time I'd dropped Sue back home and driven back up the hill in the pouring rain (and thunder), it was 7.30pm and I found Stuart and Nick nursing a beer each and huddled up over the fire discussing boy stuff - making fires, keeping them alight... Tess was down in the apartment preparing for a job interview that she is having via Skype this evening (a job at a NZ court for when she eventually returns to New Zealand in the spring - she is being interviewed by the judges).

We will have dinner when Tess had finished her grilling - I'm sure she will need a glass of wine after that. I can't imagine having to get my head into work-mode, let alone interview-mode if I had been travelling around Europe for several months and was currently 'working' at re-pointing stone walls in the pouring rain on an isolated hill in Tuscany while sporadically being in charge of calling 'Reggie, toilet!'. Fingers crossed all goes well for her. And fingers crossed for another quiet, dry night.