I'm broody . . .

. . . for a baby.

Not the sort of baby you think (well, yes actually - but that's been going on for years, and if that happened at the minute, they'd have to write an extra chapter for the Bible . . . ).

I'm broody for a puppy. Namely, an English Cocker Spaniel puppy.

A little bundle of fluff that's something like this.



I'm obsessed. I've wanted one for years, and it's never waned. I must look like a nutter in the street when I spot a spaniel, as I gaze wistfully after their little waggy tushes.

I know. It's pathetic.

And the sad thing is that I couldn't even have one if I wanted. Current financial situations mean that although I live reasonably comfortably, I cannot afford a dog walker to come and walk my pup halfway through the day, as it is cruel to leave them for a whole day without any company. And currently, I also live in a flat with no garden. Wouldn't that make housetraining a joyful experience?!

However, in two years, I will be able to have both.

Two years. That's not that long, is it?