I have taken the literal sense of 'pet peeves'
from the minute our new dog arrived, she was a royal pain in the arse. she had just got in the front door when she glimpsed the handful of fluff that was our 8 week old kitten and fled in panic into the night before we had time to say 'shut the door'. we spent 4 hours of a moonless night calling out for a black dog with no name. 5 days later, she was located and dragged as gently as possible back up the garden path, trembling, with a look of fear on her face that made us feel guilty for wanting to keep and love her.

her tendency to bolt at the drop of a hat, the turn of a newspaper page, the reach for a remote control etc made walks problematic. having let her off the lead at a safe distance of several miles from any roads, i whirled round in panic when, having been distracted by blinking, i couldn't see her. with my heart thumping in my ears, i eventually discovered she was perpetually behind me having apparently confused herself with my shadow. the first attempt at fetch was an unmitigated disaster as the sudden movement and violent force terrified the repulsive smelling, unnaturally coloured crap out of her, with a consistency that made me long for the days when we were allowed to let our dogs crap anywhere without having to dispose of it responsibly.

any ideas we had of her being some kind of guard dog disappeared when we found she didn't know how to bark. it took weeks of tug of war with a rubber ring, me leading by example, on all fours, gripping half the ring with my teeth while making growling and barking noises before the penny dropped and she picked up the other half and made similar sounds herself. proud of her newly acquired skills, she then demonstrated them at various points of the middle of the night as i had forgotten to teach her any specific reasons for doing it. i was never able to get through to her that needing to shit was a good one.

the cat, though ridiculously stupid in his own way, knew he was boss from the start and took to baiting her like a catholic priest to young boys, lurking behind banisters, waiting for her to walk by, then swiping his paw at her, and chasing after her as she fled in abject terror. she couldn't really be blamed for fleeing even when all he wanted to do was rub affectionately against her legs. he had to wait for her to fall asleep before he could curl up next to her at bedtime.

she nearly killed me several times on the stairs with her panic induced inability to differentiate between getting the hell out of my way and being exactly in the fucking way.

it was no surprise when her health started to fail. clearly it was impossible for all that nervous energy to be sustained for long. but her loss of sight and then hearing actually calmed her down as she had considerably less to worry about. we could now get within one step of her haunt on the landing before she heard us, jumping 2 feet in the air from shock.

though never that keen on walks, going outside and other general dog type stuff, soon she couldn't get beyond the house 2 doors down before emptying the more grotesque than usual content of her bowels outside their front gate then pulling back homewards. we made an appointment at the vet. the night before her appointment, as we locked up the house and turned out the lights, we couldn't find her. completely uncharacteristically, she had gone down the bottom of the garden. it was a cold night so we carried her back in.

but most peeving of all, it wasn't until i found her stiff, lifeless body in the living room the next morning that i realised exactly how much i loved her.

3 months on, the cat remains inconsolable.

the other thing that really gets on my nerves is apologies for length. but thanks if you made it this far.
(threadkiller, Fri 2 May 2008, 2:14, 3 replies)

*removes hat*
Loved every word of this.
(vkacademy has made a kitten tank, Fri 2 May 2008, 4:28, closed)

Well written
*sniff*
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Fri 2 May 2008, 16:28, closed)

it's sooo not cool to cry whilst reading QOTW at work
i had a boy version of the much the same description. he only lived to be 5years old and i miss him ever day.

got two adolescent mutts now; one specialises in dirty protests and the other sucks a comfort blanket for the majority of the day. i love rescue dogs...
(monicalaroux Blackrod? Centre of the known universe. FACT,, Fri 2 May 2008, 16:28, closed)