Vanished

IMG_0011 Readers, here are Gingercat and I in the garden looking for things. Gingercat is looking for any birds that might have fallen off the bird table, and I’m trying to find my bone.  You would not believe how many things have gone missing in this house lately.  It beggars belief.

1. One pair of Young Lad’s school trousers.  This represents 50% of his total collection of school trousers.

2.  Three, yes, three pairs of reading glasses.

3.  The connection lead to the portable hard drive, on which a Lot Of Important Stuff is Stored.

4. Lad’s retainers.  These are plastic mouthguard things to keep in check all the orthodontic work that has gone on.  Without them, the orthodontic work may be rendered useless.

5.  The garlic press.  (?)

6.  The decent nail scissors.

It worries me how poor the level of organisation is in my home, and I don’t feel completely safe, at times.  How can so many things go missing? I’m quite sure your own houses aren’t in this state of chaos all the time.  And is if to emphasise the point, Lad has just announced that he doesn’t have a day off tomorrow, after all, and in fact has an Economics exam in the afternoon.  It would appear that She didn’t read the exam timetable very carefully when writing it out and pinning it on the wall.  Thank goodness one of Lad’s friends reminded him about the Economics exam.  Of course, there is now mild panic because it was assumed that I would be at home with Lad all day, and I’m now on my own.  So there is hasty whatsapping and texting going on.  Really.

I’ve been shouted at tonight, Readers, which I feel is unfair.  We were all having dinner in the garden, in an attempt to make Lad and Young Lad experience fresh air, and a  nice meal of crispy jacket potatoes, omelette and salad was being eaten.  I just happened to find a tasty snack for myself at the edge of the lawn and sat down to eat it.  Quite unnecessarily there was screeching at me.  I had, in fact, found a dead baby blue tit that had clearly failed on its first attempt to fly.  Yes, it was pretty; blue and yellow nature at its finest.  Yes, it was an innocent little life that had only just begun.  But it tasted bldy good, Friends, and I don’t see why me crunching it next to them was such a problem.   It was dead, for the love of God!  I’m a hunting dog!  Oh the scolding and moaning that went on – honestly.  The main concern, apart from the dear little bird being crunched, was what it will do my flatulence.

Well, I’m glad to say that other friends of mine have been in trouble recently, and it isn’t just me.  I told you about the dog who ate the two home-made quiches.  Today I saw Lexie down at the river, and it appears she helped herself to the hairdresser’s bottle of bleach-based colourant when it was left on the side.  Lexie appears to be fine, but the carpets have fared less well.  It is in our nature to be inquisitive, and this should be celebrated, not scorned.  I’ve been very inquisitive with the recycling bags today.  There was a mildly special occasion here yesterday, and a take-away pizza was just the ticket for dinner to celebrate.  They NEVER have take-away pizza, as they only cost £3.49 in Tesco and really how much bldy effort is it to stick them in the bldy oven?  So this was a momentous evening. Lad and Young Lad were really hoping for a Dominohsopricey takeaway pizza, but this was poo pooed in favour of Fr Jim’s pizzas, who are a fraction of the bldy price of bldy Dominohsopricey.  So at 6.20pm precisely, the very rare sight of a pizza delivery man was spotted outside our house.  Readers, it smelled fantastic. I whined and barked, and did the usual look-at-my-big-brown-eyes thing until someone gave me a crust.  Anyway, the empty pizza boxes were put outside the back door in recycling bags, where they didn’t stay for long as I have distributed them all round the garden.  It looks pretty.

I’ve just had my evening walk around the Rec.  I didn’t really need another one, having managed two miles at the river this morning (I still limp a bit if I see her looking at me), but someone has been given a Fitbit.  This is a disaster.  The pace per mile/how many miles/how many calories have we managed to burn off was bad enough before, but now it will be obsessional.  That is, if She can work out how to use the Fitbit, which doesn’t appear straightforward.  There are no instructions, and there has been some mild swearing whilst trying to download the app and work out how the bldy hell it works.  Something must have gone right, because an email has been received to say that your Fitbit’s battery is low.  Oh dear.  Add to this the frustration of the laptop losing half of its systems during some sort of update, and you can sense the technological unease there is here.  Something called Google Chrome has disappeared completely and an hour has been spent today trying to get it back.  Unsuccessfully.

Yesterday everyone was at work and at school, so I went to dear, dear Ebony’s house for daycare.  We had a super time together, and I enjoyed our walk on which I didn’t limp at all, and made a cracking job of keeping up with Ebony’s running!  I also, Friends, took on a large Rottweiler.  I felt sure he was about to attack my dear Ebony, so I launched a counter attack, forgetting that I am a small rotund beagle, and he is a Fighting Machine.  It wasn’t my best decision ever, I will admit, and thankfully our Pack Leaders managed to intervene before the Rottweiler ripped my ears off.  But Ebony was very, very proud of me for defending her, I’m sure.  If she noticed.

Young Lad had a hospital appointment this morning, Readers, during which he slouched down in the chair, with his legs spread out and yawned a lot.  When asked how things were going, he gave very helpful answers such as yeah, fine, fine, yeah and yawned a bit more.  This enabled them to make a clear diagnosis and there is no concern about his stress levels.  This isn’t a surprise, but good all the same.

This evening it is fairly peaceful as Lad is in the bath revising Economics for tomorrow (you think?), and Young Lad and He are watching Cricket Highlights on the telly.  She of course is sulking in the other room, trying to catch up with 24 Hours in Police Custody, which was very exciting last week.  Cricket has been a bit of a theme here over the weekend, as He played in a match and got over 100 runs!  This is no mean feat and we were very proud of He.  I’m not sure how long it took to get 100 runs, as He doesn’t run very fast, and might explain why he wasn’t home until 10pm, but very well done, He.

Well, thank the Lord for that.  Ebony’s Pack Leader has come to the rescue yet again and said I can go there tomorrow, when Lad goes off for his exam.  It is meant to be a nice day, so I think I’ll lie in their garden on the cushion, and eat any bird seed that drops.  This, combined with the baby blue tit, could make for some interesting digestion.

Golly I’m tired.  A Fitbit, for goodness’ sake!

See you soon,

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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