My year has been a whirlwind of ups and downs, but one thing stands out above all: the arrival of a small, furry menace who has completely taken over my life. Let’s look at 2024 through the lens of numbers, which reveal just how this tiny being has dominated my existence.
1: The number of new dogs acquired this year. I never intended to become someone with endless stories about their pet, but here I am. My phone now holds 250 pictures of this dog, and I’m willing to show every single one of them. Life with a puppy is all-consuming, leaving no room for other conversational topics. It’s a bit like having a baby, except babies don’t gnaw on skirting boards while you’re out buying milk.
10: The number of columns I’ve written about the dog, despite only adopting it in late July. This is a testament to how thoroughly it has commandeered my thoughts, home, and even my side of the bed. I am smitten, and my better judgment has gone out the window.
1: The number of foxes I’ve tripped over while walking in the dark. Ironically, I had just been thinking about how few foxes I’d seen lately. The encounter was surprisingly civil.
2: The number of times I fell from lawn furniture this summer. Both incidents occurred in front of the same group of people, adding to the humiliation. If nothing else, I’m grateful it wasn’t a sunnier season, as that would have meant a larger audience.
19: The number of chew toys the dog owns. Despite this arsenal, its preferences lean toward skirting boards, carpet edges, garden rocks, and scissor handles.
4: The number of curtain rails I installed this year. These weren’t ordinary rails they were lengths of copper piping mounted with brass pipe brackets. The result is more plumbing than carpentry, a skill I lack. With uneven walls and window frames, I had to rely on my eyes for leveling, a decision I now regret every time I enter the rooms.
7: The weeks we spent without heating last winter. The issue stumped multiple repairmen, leading to daily visits and numerous theories involving blockages, pressure problems, and even a failed canoe filter. Despite replacing expensive parts, the problem persisted. I began the ordeal not understanding central heating and ended it just as clueless.
17: The number of live performances by my band, down from 23 the previous year. This still amounted to around 4,000 tickets sold and 800 souvenir tea towels. We also recorded an album over a weekend and released a Christmas single. While this represents significant effort, my spouse insists band activities qualify as holidays.
30: The age my eldest child reached this year. It’s a milestone that underscores the passage of time and serves as a reminder of one’s own aging. I imagine it’s equally strange for him.
102: The age my father reached before his passing in July. In dreams, he sometimes appears younger, though occasionally older, brushing off the milestone with characteristic nonchalance.
10.3: The revised percentage of columns devoted to the dog, reflecting its overwhelming presence in my life. I can only promise to aim for more balance in the coming year.
Here’s to a fresh start in 2025.
