Evening friends, a busy old day today! While She had an early coffee in Barstucks with Lovelydor down the road, I had a walk with He and young Lad and met my old chum Kobi, a massive Akita. Back in the early days, Kobi and I used to frolic happily together and do lots of chasing, but for some reason he has taken a dislike to me. I tend to forget this, and think we are still in the halcyon days – I bounce up to him and jump on his back, and wonder why he tries to kill me. Then I remember. Luckily Kobi was on the lead this morning, so his rejection of my friendship was under some sort of control.
Nicedogwalkerlady was there with the Brown Labs and we had a chat. I think she is still enjoying the blog. It was somewhat muddy at the river and I was a bit plastered by the time I got home, but again, no fox poo. Good job, really, as we were going to Grandma’s for Lunch. There was a frantic twenty minutes or so with a lot of shouting of whatdoyoumean you’renotintheshoweryet? Much stomping around followed, as is always the case when the Whole Family need to leave the house. Young Lad was in trouble for wearing a pair of trousers with a hole in the knee, (not to lunch at Grandma’s!) but an alternative pair was nowhere to be found and time was running out. I suspect he hadn’t brushed his teeth properly, either. Never mind, once at Grandma’s the smell was wonderful, and my nose guessed (correctly) that it was coq-au-vin. Better still, there were more of those tempura prawn things and mini spring rolls, as ‘appetisers’. Yes indeed, they whet my appetite. Bravely, Grandma put them on plates on a Low Table. I sat very, very close to the Low Table and stared hard at them. Eventually She took pity on me, and gave me a fragment of battered prawn tail. Once Grandma sat down with her appetisers, I leapt onto her lap and was within a WHISKER, readers, of snatching it from her mouth. Darn it, I was close! I even put the tip of my nose right against her face in case a tiny bit made its way out of her mouth. It didn’t.
After lunch, we opened Christmas presents. There was one for me. They kept telling me to open it, in rather silly voices, but there was no point as I knew that by sitting and staring at it, someone would open it for me. Inside was a new pack of tennis balls! Food would have been better, but even so! What a thoughtful present. I dutifully chased one round the lounge and played with it for a bit. Then I sat down with it and ripped it into pieces. It took 3 seconds to destroy. Grandma was shocked and hurt – she had obviously thought these were long-lasting tennis balls – and then read the instructions that came with them. I kid you not, readers, it said “do not give these to your dog to play with unless you are sure they are suitable. Some dogs play with these in a rough way and may cause damage.” What the heck? Anyway, I was thoroughly cheesed off as they took my new tennis ball (or what was left of it) away and put it in the bin. I had been enjoying spitting bits of black rubber over Grandma’s carpet.
This was funny – She had only been saying, before lunch, that my anal glands weren’t too bad at the moment, and they were reminiscing in a sniggery way about all the pre- Christmas trips to the Evil Vet over the years, to have them drained. I soon shut her up, readers, by sitting on Grandma’s sofa this afternoon and I have a feeling there was a Slight Leakage. I did look round and try to lick up any residue, but She noticed the smell. However, Reader, She WASN’T honest enough to fess up to Grandma! Who will only find out about the possible leakage by reading this blog!
Unbelievably, nobody had taken any dinner for me to Grandma’s and by mid-afternoon I was STARVING. One fragment of prawn in batter tail really isn’t enough. I started making this clear by whimpering and whining. She took me out to the kitchen to shut me up, by giving my 3 leftover new potatoes and some coq-au-vin sauce. Again, Grandma will only learn of this by reading today’s blog. I hope she wasn’t banking on those leftovers for her tea. I’ll make some cracking smells tonight, as I think there were a lot of red onions in the sauce. And that reminds me, her brother, who we’ll call Funnygit for the purpose of this blog, sent Young Lad a version of Last Christmas that was all about farting. Funnygit is 53. Worrying, isn’t it.
The journey back was boring. I had a sleep in the car, and so did He. Lad and Young Lad argued non-stop about something called Game of Thrones and whether it’s a 15 or an 18, and whether it has more violence and sex than The Walking Dead. I think they’re both rubbish, to be honest. I’m hoping they’ll all be out at some point tomorrow – He and Lad are going to Wet Sham yet again in the afternoon, and I’m praying that She and Young Lad go out and give me five minutes’ peace. To have a go at that ruddy chocolate that’s still twinkling at the top of the ruddy tree!
See you soon, tell your friends,