When the crate came out on Monday morning,

Colin was a little concerned. There was no way he was going back into THAT thing and accordingly gave it a very wide berth, advising all who would listen to follow his lead. Babette the cat ignored his ravings as it coincided with her discovery of the deliciousness that is the tender tops of the newly sprouted parsley (why this appeals to her is a mystery) while senior cat, Xanthe, was already way ahead of him. Her memory stretches the longest.

The new coop residents and their job sharing Mums thought maybe they were destined for a swanky new abode on the other side of the mystical sliding door

but even we’re not that crazy.

On Thursday morning, all became clear.

That car ride was not to the river or to visit Chateau Kimberley, The Princess and The Farmer’s new residence; it wasn’t even to spend some time at the Urban Homestead. No, Colin suddenly realised he’d been duped and the crate was for something else altogether.

Now he’s stuck with this pesky, noisy, sanitarily-suspect being sharing his space. Babette couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t given her the heads-up!

Her name is Shirley.

“She’s frisky and whiny, annoying and ignorant; she’s always stealing his toys and, worst of all, THEY all think she’s cute.”

For a little context: the human’s thinking behind the newest Homesteader

With the departure of the Tiny Housers and Colin’s best friend in the world (even if she doesn’t always remember that), Kora,

we human Homesteaders knew Colin would be a little lost, maybe a little bored, definitely a little confused; the time had arrived, we decided, for the addition of that second dog. Shirley may not be his choice in housemate, make him growly-rumble in a manner never before heard when she swung by her teeth from his ear, rudely ignore all his play invitations, steal his toys and try to muscle in on his mealtimes but she does make him think about something other than those who used to live in the paddock. Sometimes he even seems to be enjoying himself.

One night down and we’re still 100% sure, we keep wild-eyed-ly assuring one another, adding this little labrador retriever whirlwind into the mix was the absolute right thing to do. Before we know it, we extoll – that tone’s enthusiasm not desperation – she’ll know her name, sit on command, reserve her chewing for the designated toys, understand when her body needs her to exit the building and be able to sleep through the night. It’ll pass in the blink of an…

Already, when it’s good it’s fantastic and, as an aside, I’m really glad I never did get round to repairing puppy Colin’s interior design effort on the furniture. Farmhouse Chic, indeed.

Maybe we’re just not meant to have nice things

Just cute things, eh Colin.