Toast!

toast_102709511_250 (1)A right result this morning, Readers.  Young Lad again took his eye off the ball, or his food in this case, and I ran off with his breakfast.  Before he even realised it had disappeared from his plate, Young Lad’s rather nice toast was dragged under the dining room table and eaten.  It was just the right level of crispy on the outside, soft inside – though I would have preferred a topping such as Nutella or a good quality marmalade, but I don’t get asked.  There was a plaintive cry of,”oh no!” from Young Lad when he realised he’d lost his chance to eat, but it serves him right for looking at his phone instead of his breakfast.  I loved it.  Top way to start the day.

Things were still looking up when they all left for work/school.  I was thrown, for the second time this week, a rawhide chewy shoe thing, to try and keep me busy until Pippa’s Pack Leader arrived.   Two treats in a week! It took nine minutes to eat the chewy shoe thing, and I spent the rest of the time looking through cupboards.  My new delivery of food arrived yesterday, and I KNOW She’s put it somewhere safe, but I just couldn’t find it anywhere.  This was very aggravating and wasted a lot of my time. I was disgusted by the state of the house, frankly, as I looked round – Lad is having terrible problems with his coordination again, and struggles to bend down to pick up the four towels, pyjamas, school shirts and underwear from his bedroom floor.  Poor Lad.  I think it is a balance disability.  It may be hereditary, as Young Lad is beginning to develop the same problem.  The bathroom needs a good clean, in truth, and as for the kitchen…. well, this selfish attitude of going to work every day comes at a price.  Thank goodness I went to Ebony’s house yesterday, and Pippa’s today, as conditions there are much better.

There was no blog last night again – I did warn you things would be slack this week.  She and Lad had to go to The Very Important Place in London yet again, which involved more pleasant travelling in the bldy Rush Hour and moaning about being bldy tired when they finally arrived home.  Dinner was a scant affair of hash browns, fish fingers and baked beans – where  is the nutrition in this, I wonder?  What an appalling plate of processed rubbish.  She said they were bldylucky to even get that, and sat down with a healthy tuna sandwich. Young Lad had been Dumped at a friend’s house after school, yet again, and then went to Indoor Cricket.  He enjoyed this very much, but does tend to exaggerate the “injuries” sustained every week, which is rather tiresome.  He went to collect Young Lad from cricket, as She was busy testing those gourmet skills with the hash browns, and then we had a peaceful end of the evening, He, Young Lad, Lad and I – all sitting on the sofa eating processed freezer food and watching football (Chelsea/Barcelona – gripping stuff, apparently.  I don’t know, I was asleep.)  In a fit of pique because football bores her rigid, She was watching GPs Behind Closed Doors in the other room.  Dear God.

I had a marvellous day at Ebony’s yesterday, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  There is a New Routine now, Readers, whereby Young Lad or She walk me down to Ebony’s house as they leave for school/work.  To be honest with you, and I know this might sound harsh, I couldn’t wait to get in the door at Ebony’s – she was standing in the kitchen wagging her tail at me, and I ran straight in, not even looking back at my Pack Leader.  She said it was like when you leave your precious babies at Nursery, and they can’t wait to see the back of you.  Anyway, a super day again and I was jolly tired by the evening  – they don’t have the monopoly on that just because they’d been to school/work and then London. It can’t be that exhausting – I know for a fact that Lad and She had lunch in Costalotta in London, because there was a discussion about how outrageous it was that they were only given 2 small pats of butter with their toast, and how She had to virtually hold the barista at gunpoint to obtain a third one.  Really, Readers, if your biggest gripe in life is that the barista in Costalotta Holborn was a tadge stingy with the butter, you’re not doing badly.

So on to today, and a lovely day at Pippa’s house. I was impeccably behaved as usual, and had two cracking walks. Now, Regular Readers will know that there are a few groups of people that I’m not altogether taken with.  I bark menacingly and loudly at:  Old people.  People in wheelchairs or with walking sticks.  People with dark skin. People with foreign accents.  Large groups of children.  Fishermen.  And today, I met a new group of people that I Don’t Like.  Pippa agrees with me, and we both went a bit mental when these people knocked on her door. They were far, far too nicely dressed for my liking, and their shoes were shiny. Suits and ties were immaculate, and their teeth were very white.  I just couldn’t take to them, Readers.  I believe they are called Jehovah’s Witnesses.  They’d better not come knocking on my door again, that’s all I can say!

Poor Lad had his Maths Tutor after school again tonight, so pity was taken on him as catching the bus home would mean a very long day.  So he was given a lift. Young Lad, on the other hand, had to walk ALL the way home from school.  It’s the first time this week, to be fair, as various friends’ relatives have given him lifts every day.  Dinner tonight was a fraction  better than last night – spag bol, broccoli and carrots.  Oh and two slices of garlic bread found at the bottom of the freezer. Nice sloppy plates for me, so I was happy.  Readers, the Dinnertable Discussion never fails to amaze me.  Tonight we were back to the Donald Trump Is He Ok After All debate, followed closely by Is There Going To Be A War With Russia, which THEN turned into a lengthy discourse about What is The Point Of War Anyway? Sheesh.  Why can’t they just talk about the Kardashians like most people?  It’s rather pretentious and very dull – and most of these conversations are started by Lad.  Young Lad only really talks about the fight he saw at school at lunchtime, and how fast they all legged it when they saw Mr Newman coming.  I don’t see why they need to talk over dinner at all, what a ridiculous concept!  Just eat!

Well hurrah, it is Friday tomorrow.  It’s been a long week, Readers, in which I’ve barely seen my family.   I can only hope things improve next week.  Another day at Pippa’s tomorrow, praise be, and then my own family might deign to spend some time with me at the weekend.  Don’t hold your breath.

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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