Oh Reader, where to begin!! What a day!! I haven’t laughed as much since the Chasing- A- Stag- for- Twenty- Minutes- in- HartyFarty Forest Incident. (The Stag only won because I collapsed from exhaustion. Granny said that Stags belong to The Queen, and that if I’d hurt the Stag, We Would All Have Been in A Lot Of Trouble. I haven’t been back to HartyFarty Forest since.)
Honestly, it’s been the funniest day so far. It all started late last night when they shoved me in the garden for a wee – forgetting that only hours earlier I’d escaped through the fence at the back! They’re so thick! So despite the hour, and the fact that they were in pyjamas, I escaped again and had time to pull out some Roast Carcass from Large Man Over The Back’s bins. It took them so long to work out the Torch setting on their mobile phones, and run round the road (pyjamas and welly boots, nice look!) that I actually had a fair old tuck in. I growled a lot and snapped at them for good measure though. He Shouted at me and made me sit on the bottom stair.
And today has been a corker so far! Snatched a bit of Young Lad’s toast when he wasn’t looking (mobile phones – again). It was ok, but only Tesco own brand Fine Shred marmalade – there was a time we had Wilkins of Tiptree, but of course thereisnobldymoney at the moment. I sat and drooled while Lad attempted to eat his bacon roll – if he spent more time eating and less time moaning, “I haven’t got time to eat this, I TOLD YOU not to do me any breakfast,” he would get on quicker. It only takes me 1 second to eat a bacon roll. (One of Lad’s many medical issues involves difficulty lifting his body from his bed at 6am. This is another common disability amongst people Lad’s age and usually takes half an hour of nagging and shouting. I think they have a problem with their legs at this age.) Anyway, I snatched a bit of bacon that fell on the (dirty) kitchen floor.
It gets better, friends! While She was dropping Young Lad off at school and calling in at PetsRVetsRToysRUs or whatever it’s called, I had a look in the cupboard under the stairs. Do you remember me telling you about this one? (see earlier blog.) It is still a tip, and nobody has tidied it out. Well, my new box of food was in there, masterfully hidden behind the ironing board and the hoover again. I had no trouble in dragging it out, knocking the ironing board over in the process, and pulling it into the lounge (see diagram above.) Chewed through the box and spat it over the floor, and then it was easy ripping into the bag. Nice. Love that food She has delivered, and it makes my coat really glossy. When She came in and saw the mess She called me a shocking name and shouted, “WHO did this? Did YOU do this?” Seriously. How patronising. No celebration of the technique involved in negotiating all the crap in the cupboard under the stairs to drag a 5 kilo box out and along the hall. None whatsoever. And readers, She is so anal that She actually weighed the remaining package of food to gauge how much I’d stuffed. (2 kg as it turns out. Though the kitchen scales are cheap and rubbish.)
So then we went for my walk, with her moaning about having to clear up the mess in the lounge. Beautiful day at the river today, makes you glad to be alive and even She cheered up after a bit. Large black Alsatian tried to take me on, so I did a crab-like sideways manoeuvre of which I was quite proud. Homeless Man By the River’s tent was interesting – the mug has disappeared, but there was a carrier bag there instead. Would like to have investigated contents, but was distracted by a wonderful sight. The sun was shining on his soft grey coat, even from a distance, and I could see the twinkle in Chuck’s eyes. He was a vision today! We ran to each other and sniffed each other’s backsides happily for ages – blind to the many other dogs around us. I love Chuck. His Pack Leader says he is enjoying the blog, and reads it out over the tannoy at Sainsburys where he works nights. She was v concerned about this, due to the swearing. He told her not to worry, there aren’t any customers in at that time. He also told her that Teddy is an Australian cockapoo – wrong information in yesterday’s blog. I apologise for her ignorance. Eventually I left Chuck’s rear end and we trotted on. Marching homewards (“Brown Girl in the Ring”, usual rhythm. I think Boney M worked to a formula. You need to read previous blogs to understand – do keep up,) a squirrel was sitting in the middle of the path. It eyeballed me and made the Loser sign with its thumb and forefinger, then ran off. I gave chase but forgot I was on the lead, so it didn’t end well.
Since being home, there’s been loads of moaning about havingtoblockoffthebldyfence because She hasalotofotherbldythingstodo. Frankly, piling up the garden furniture in front of the wobbly fence, and shoving an old blue paddling pool on top just looks dreadful. Slum city. And I’m quite sure I can find a way through it.
By the way, the Nice Manager at PetsRVetsRToysRUs or whatever it’s called, told her today that beagles need special handling. We need lots of stimulation and exercise. At last, a sensible man who knows we are special. Let’s hope She listens to him. Meghan Markle understands us. It can’t be that hard.
She’s also huffing about having to wash the white John Lewis duvet cover again today. It’s December. The ground is muddy. DEAL with it.
Well, friends, I’m going to pop out and see if I can knock the blue paddling pool down. Cracking day so far.
See you soon,