Now is about the time when you might start thinking about rehoming the lockdown puppy that seemed like such a good idea in the gloomy depths of February. Obviously this will not happen because you are a decent dog owner, but perhaps the idea of selling him on the dark web has been criss-crossing your mind.
Especially now that he is the size of a donkey, but with the IQ of a tennis ball, and has already run up a vet bill that would comfortably pay for a decent holiday – sorry, a what? – by getting spiky grass seeds embedded in his unmentionables. (Which you are saving up to have chopped off, in the hope it will make him less mental. And yes, there are consent issues here, but who consents to giant dog humping their leg?)
When someone posts on Facebook about grass seeds and dogs, you might roll your eyes at such mimsy snowflakery. What next, dogs wearing full body suits in the long grass? Like that jackalabradoodlepoo or whatever it was you saw in a onesie, lolloping through the vegetation looking like a total embarrassment to itself and to all of dogkind. This is where we are now. Humans dressing overpriced mongrels in dog pyjamas before taking them out for a wee. No wonder aliens have never bothered to invade.
Until you find yourself at the vet with an incredibly pissed off giant puppy with grass spikes stuck in his armpits and even more delicate areas. You’re there because your own attempts on the kitchen floor, wresting him with a scissors in one hand and strips of the lodger’s prosciutto in the other, have ended in stalemate. He has eaten all the prosciutto and won’t let you near him. He won’t let the vet near him either. Oh dear. There is talk of general anaesthetic.
In the end he is sent home half shaved with pain killers, antibiotics, topical cream, and dog sedatives. You might end up necking a few yourself when you get the bill. But the worst is the giant cone of shame to stop him chewing off his own testicles, although this would save a fortune on future neutering. You find yourself wondering if you should take off the cone and let him at himself. What would Hippocrates say?
The thing with dogs wearing cones is that they don’t realise they are wearing cones. They do not adjust to their new head width, which means that a giant puppy wearing a giant cone will crash through the house like a furry bull in a disorganised china shop, toppling the recycling and crashing into furniture and the back of your legs until you are screaming threats like someone really, really close to selling a dog on the dark web. Especially when other members of the household – the giant puppy co-owners - are getting trashed in a field at a dog-free music festival. Bet you wish you’d bought that dog onesie now, right?