Love Me, Love My Dog
Whilst binning a forlorn looking bunch of rotting tulips last week I found myself bemoaning the fact that a man hasn’t bought me flowers in what feels like forever. I have been driven to buying flowers for myself every so often to satiate my feminine need for florals indoors. I began to track back and soon realised that the last flowers I received from a man were actually given more recently than I thought. On a second date in January (one of those very rare second dates I might add), a chap I am no longer dating, but am still friendly with, turned up with some indoor potted miniature red roses. Beautiful. They still sit in my kitchen windowsill, albeit at varying degrees of deadness. But I smile every time I see them (and only feel slightly guilty at my severely limited green-fingered skills).
I’ve had some pretty lovely dating presents actually. It’s undeniable that men, for all the bad press they regularly get, can be incredibly thoughtful, even when they are still getting to know you…
One chap turned up on a first date in December with a miniature Christmas tree because I’d mentioned that mine was still on loan in a friend’s house following a film shoot in November. Cute.
Another picked me up for a second date with a musical animation DVD because he knew I was (am) writing a musical animation and hadn’t heard of his favourite (A Monster in Paris – sweet movie, but I wanted more songs…).
Yet another man appeared for a second date (perhaps the second dates haven’t been so infrequent after all!) with what is possibly the most bizarre and gross gift ever. Yet, arguably, it was the most wonderful present anyone has ever given me. Largely because it wasn’t for me… He appeared with a bloodied carrier bag (cue the Psycho music) containing a gargantuan bovine leg bone.
Now, I should probably point out here that I’m vegetarian. Such an item is about as gross as it gets for me. BUT, Charlie (my Irish Setter) was in heaven for about a week until I finally confiscated it (feeling like a blundering serial killer by just putting it out with the normal trash).
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, the way to my heart is definitely through my dog (and my stomach…). I am one of those pet owners who considers her dog as much part of the family as a child would be. Yes, he is allowed on the sofa. In fact, he considers it his throne. I love him more than anything. Fighting over ownership of him is the reason my divorce nearly bankrupted me, but it was absolutely worth it.
So, as far as dating gifts go, this one was a firm winner. As for the chap, well, we worked out on the same date that there were some significant incompatibilities as far as dating was concerned, but he has quickly become one of my best friends. And one of Charlie’s too. The bone may have gone out with the rubbish, but the guy’s definitely a keeper. <3
