Cold Porridge

almondvanillaporridge06 Today, Readers, they all left early for school and work.  She gave me my Kong (a big rubber ball type thing with a hole in it), which had the remains of Lad’s porridge stuffed into it.  Stone cold porridge.  Friends, how would you have felt if someone had served this up to you?  I mean, I ate it, obviously, as I don’t like waste, but really, cold porridge isn’t good enough.  I felt I needed to make a point.

And so I did.  With bells on.  Before I was collected for daycare at dear, dear Pippa’s house, I ripped up a box from the back porch and spat it over the lounge floor.  Then I went to the study and got the art and craft stuff out again, emptying a tray of it over the carpet.  Then I went up to Lad’s room, and – oh joy!! – found half a large Toblerone that hadn’t been put somewhere sensible.  I ate it.  Nice. Swiss chocolate has a certain style.  After that,  I spotted a box of David Beckham toiletries, so I ripped that open and chucked the shower gel on the floor.  I could happily have gone on with this protest all morning, but I needed a nap on the sofa, and then it was time for Pippa’s house.  I certainly hope they’ve learned their lesson, and don’t ever think of giving me cold porridge again.

Apart from that little blip on their part,  I’ve had a fantastic day.  Not only did I chill out at Pippa’s with people that  care about me, but I even Went Visiting!!  Yes, Pippa’s Pack Leader put me in her car, and drove me to visit her Mum in The Countryside.  Reader, I had a great time. Not only did I go for a mega walk in the woods, but I made myself at home in her Mum’s best armchair.  God, it was so comfortable.  She’d even put a cushion in exactly the right spot for my head.  People who know me seem to understand that I’m just not a floor dog.  It really has been an exhausting day, and I’m struggling a little tonight as my eyes keep glazing.  These damned third eyelid things keep coming over and I’ve nearly fallen asleep sitting bolt upright.  

However, let’s go back a little.  There was no blog last night, and I did in fact warn you in advance of this, but did this stop the text messages and phone calls?  No, it jolly well didn’t.  People ringing and texting half the evening to find out when the blog was going on.  Sigh.  I had said that I would probably be too bloated after lunch at Grandma’s, and this was the case.  Plus She had the bldy school uniforms to iron and a bldy button to sew onto Young Lad’s blazer for the  bldy fiftieth time. Readers, I know quite well that She could have done the blog after all these things, but James Norton phwoar  was acting superbly in something called McMafia at 9pm and so She couldn’t be bothered  distracted.   Anyway.  It had been a marvellous day at Grandma’s for lunch – Pork casserole this time, exceptionally tasty from the feedback I heard.  I did crack a couple of shocking smells from under the table, but I think I got away with it as it all blended in with the casserole.  Before sitting down, there had been Nibbles on the Low Table, which you know I like, and the Tempura Prawns made a welcome return.  I had several tail ends.  It was quite a tiring afternoon, as The Derby Chicks were there and they do like taking me in and out of the garden, seven hundred times.  This wasn’t a bad thing, though, as Grandma had thoughtfully put some bread out for the birds.  The birds didn’t get it.  There was an amusing moment, Readers, when Lad was stroking me under the table, only I was in the kitchen at the time.  It turned out he was stroking one of The Derby Chicks,  age 9, who was under the table for no apparent reason.  I feel Lad is under a lot of stress at the moment, and can’t tell the difference between a dog and a child.

Back home in the evening, I curled up on Pack Leader’s lap and had a lovely sleep.  Until I was pushed off and shouted at, because of the same digestive problem I had the other night.  I will be glad when these scented candles have burned down.  Lad did some more revision, and was tested on the Nervous System. There was some conversation about Homeostasis and reflex arcs which bored me to tears. Young Lad was meant to do some Maths revision, but seemed very happy when he attained 50% and shouted, “that’s good, that’ll do,” and went back to the Xbox.  I’m not sure that 50% is the right level of aspiration but I don’t think Young Lad cares.  There was more ‘beef’ at his school today, apparently, with a Year 9 calling a Year 7  a ****head, and some physicality.  Young Lad loved it.

She and J’s Pack Leader are feeling a little better about the upcoming weekend at ParkyCentres, as Kentgirl has now explained that she doesn’t expect them to join in all the physical activities.  Kentgirl knows that they both have severe limitations in this respect.   And probably hasn’t forgotten the image of them on a tennis court thirty years ago.  

Well, I thoroughly enjoyed the dishwasher loading tonight – it was lasagne again, and as we know, this makes a shocking mess. There was so much to slurp up off the plates as they went in – She fought me tooth and nail to get me out of the way, but I was determined. Consequently the dishwasher had to be put on an extra hot setting to make sure everything is sterilised.  She only cooked lasagne as a guilt thing again, due to working Nearly Full Time this week.  The half-hearted attempt at home-cooking makes up for having a filthy house and neglected children and dogs, in her eyes.  It doesn’t.  

Meghan Markle doesn’t neglect her beagle, and won’t neglect her children.  Mind you, I would imagine her children won’t be very  like Lad and Young Lad. I can’t imagine Meghan Markle’s dishwasher has loads of food at the bottom of it, that should have been cleaned out months ago, nor do her kitchen cupboards have paw prints and leek and potato soup (yes still) on the doors.  Life would be so different, if I lived with Meghan.

Never mind; another day at Pippa’s tomorrow!  I’ll let you know if I find anything to do before I go in the morning, and whether I am given anything as insulting as cold porridge again.

Tell your friends!  Bye for now.

Russell

Author: boredbeagle

Slightly stocky beagle who lives with a family. This is She, He, Lad and Young Lad. And Gingercat. Generally doesn't get enough attention and so writes this blog to let everyone know what his life is like. You need to start from page one (First Attempt).. Go on, it's worth the effort.

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