A couple of months ago, a casual conversation with my older son Ed, the vet, completely changed my life. As some of you may know, I have chihuahuas I love to bits. There was Butch, who broke my heart when he died two years ago at the age of 15. Now there’s Frieda, a grand old lady at 17, and eight-year-old Madge.
I said to Ed, ‘You know I’m a bit worried about Frieda. She’s really slowed down. I’m not sure she’ll last much longer. I think I need to get a puppy to keep Madge company when Frieda’s gone.’
My son glared at me and said, ‘Mum, have you gone completely out of your mind? You’re going to get a puppy at your age?’
I was too shocked and hurt to respond. It’s strange how you don’t think of yourself as being old when, clearly, to everyone else you are.
I thought about it for a bit and realised that Ed would be worried that, if I died, he’d have to take responsibility for my animals.
This week UK writer Jenni Murray opens up about wanting to get a puppy at 73. Pictured, her new dog Minnie
After a moment’s sympathy for his concern, I was overwhelmed with fury. I am 73. ‘At my age’, indeed!
It wasn’t only the unwelcome implication that I may not be long for this world that made me so angry — no one wants to be reminded of their impending doom — but also the assumption that I was somehow incapable of caring for a busy little creature, and even that I was being selfish for wanting the company of dogs.
I confess I was thinking of myself, but also of Madge. I don’t want her to be alone. I’ve never kept one animal who’ll be by themselves when I go out. After all, I do still have a busy social life. The kids have gone. I have to make my own pleasures.
Nothing could have made me more determined to plough on and find my next full chihuahua puppy. First, I saw one advertised on a Facebook site promising chihuahuas for sale. I made contact. I was asked for money and the dog would be posted to me. I’m not so daft as to fail to spot a scam staring me in the face.
Next, I went to a more trustworthy site, Pets4Homes, and came across a tiny black and white chihuahua whose eyes seemed to be saying ‘Buy Me’.
I called the breeder, Luisa, who lived only a half-hour drive from me. The puppy would be ready to leave home in two weeks’ time when she was two months old. I got in the car and shot off.
Of the four puppies, it was the little black and white one who came rushing over to me, leapt on to my knee, licked my face and took a sip from my by now cold coffee.
She ran around the flat with such excited energy and curiosity. I knew she was mine. ‘What will you call her?’ asked Luisa. ‘Minnie the Minx’ was my instant response.
Two weeks later, I picked her up and introduced her to the rest of the family and a new environment. Frieda appeared to be in my son’s ‘Are you out of your mind?’ camp, suggesting we were both far too old to deal with all this youthful energy. Madge sat in her spot in the corner of the sofa, sulking — obviously jealous from day one. The atmosphere resembled the day when a mother brings home a new baby to be introduced to an older sibling. There’s an instant recognition that the baby will take all the attention away.
Minnie tried to be friends but failed. She very sensibly avoided the cat like the plague.
She has now been with us for four weeks and has lightened my life. She loves the garden and brings in lots of little sticks. Messy, but if she’s having fun, who cares? She’s been good at going to the toilet on the puppy pads — also messy, but the bending down and picking up is good exercise for my grotty back. Sometimes she goes to the toilet in the garden with the ‘big’ dogs.
Frieda has not been won over. She growls and barks at Minnie’s attempts to get her to play. Fights over food can result in serious battles where the two go at each other like champion wrestlers. Luckily, Frieda no longer has teeth, so she can’t tear Minnie’s head off, although I’m sure she’d like to.
Madge is coming round to the little dynamo, and I make sure I give her plenty of cuddles.
It took Minnie a couple of hours to figure out that you had to climb the stairs if you were going to share the bed with Madge and Mum (me). Having her with me meant no nighttime crying. She adapted as if she’d been with us all her life.
A couple of months ago, a casual conversation with Jenni’s older son Ed, the vet, completely changed her life. Pictured, Jenni
Number one son, Ed, hasn’t met her yet. I guess he’ll learn about her when he reads this!
Number two, Charlie, popped round, saw her and said, ‘Good grief, what’s that? Couldn’t you get a proper dog?’ No one understands my passion for these little creatures or my willingness to spend hours teaching Minnie to sit, stay and fetch. She’s getting there and we’ll go to puppy classes now she’s had her second jab.
She’s filling my life with such joy and laughter. It’s wrong to assume an older person shouldn’t take on the responsibility of a dog. They keep you active, engaged and feeling needed.
It’s impossible to be lonely when you know they’ll always be there with unconditional affection.
I only hope I can outlive her. If she lives as long as Frieda I must make it to 90. It’s now my mission to get there!
I used to despise pink. But now…
Margot Robbie, who plays Barbie in the new film, must promote the film festooned in the iconic pink shade
Barbie wears pink. Of course she does, which is why Margot Robbie, who plays her in the new film, must promote the film festooned in the colour I’ve always hated.
‘Pink for a girl and blue for a boy’ has always set my teeth on edge. Funnily enough, though, I went to our local Last Night Of The Proms on Sunday in the sole pink garment I own — a sweatshirt which was the only thing left that was clean.
A handsome young man chatted to me in the interval and said: ‘You look really lovely tonight.’ It may be time to revise my opinion on pink!
When will NatWest close my account?
I’m just wondering how long it will be before NatWest, with whom I’ve banked for more than 50 years, closes my account.
The bank is a member of Stonewall, so will no doubt disapprove of my gender-critical view that a man can’t change sex and become a woman.
Why don’t banks stop being silly and do what they’re meant to do — provide branches for us to visit and pump up interest rates for those of us who’ve trusted them with our savings?
Best news of the week? A group of millionaires have written to the PM proposing ‘a serious injection of capital . . . from the wealthiest’. Good on them. It remains to be seen whether wealthy Rishi will be keen on their proposal.
This week agroup of millionaires have written to the PM (pictured) proposing ‘a serious injection of capital . . . from the wealthiest’
Wimbledon’s better on TV!
Tennis champ: Katie Boulter. Jenni Murray says, from her own experience, that you see more on television
I’ve been to Wimbledon twice at the invitation of the BBC. Would I pay £10,000 for tickets? Would I queue for five hours while bags are checked? Would I pay £10 for a glass of Pimm’s or £2.50 for strawberries and cream? No.
I know from my own experience you see more on television — and watching it at home means you never get wet in the inevitable downpour.
WimbledonRishi SunakMargot Robbie
