Trying to sleep

dav In this picture, Readers, you can see quite clearly that I am trying to sleep in the spring sunshine but I am being disturbed by Pippa.  This is not acceptable.  Pippa had the whole of the garden to go and lie in and there was no need at all to throw herself down right next to me.  And did she keep still?  No she didn’t.  So it was awfully difficult to have a satisfying doze and really Pippa  needs to think twice about this.

My sleep has been disturbed a lot lately and it’s getting on my nerves.  At bedtime I have been collapsing in an exhausted heap onto Young Lad’s bed with him, but within half an hour I am woken by sniggering and spluttering the other side of the wall.  This is all down to someone called Bill Bryson, who I wish would refrain from being in the bedroom late at night – She is reading a book called “Down Under” for about the thirtieth time and still snorting all the way through.  You would think the jokes would have worn thin by now, but apparently not.  Anyway, I’m looking forward to She finishing “Down Under” and going back to a less amusing Peter James crime novel instead.  These don’t wake me up.

Well it’s been a busy few days here.  Yesterday afternoon She and LovelyDor down the road went out to Costalotta where they toasted a special person over an Americano and half a Sicilian lemon tart each.  This wasn’t very rock n roll but it did the job.  Notice they didn’t take me.  There has been a theme to not taking me to nice meals lately.  Last Sunday Nana aged 87 became Nana aged 88 and there was a family lunch at a jolly nice carvery.  The meats on offer were pork, turkey and beef – I would have liked a piece of each.  But of course I had to stay at home and just had my usual dry biscuit stuff for dinner.

Today is Mothering Sunday which means, from what I can see, that every restaurant in the country puts up its prices for a special set menu, and are booked up for months in advance.  In their usual disorganised fashion, my family decided at the last minute to squeeze in at Express Pizza, but only after phoning to see if Tesco vouchers were valid today.  Push the boat out why don’t you.  Will Lad bring me back a piece of American Hot?  Will Young Lad hide a little wedge of Margherita in a napkin for me?  Of course not.

I will be left here alone again.  I did have my eye on the kitchen bin as it is very full, but some baking was undertaken this afternoon and it was noticed that the bin was over-flowing, so that has been emptied.  How disappointing.  Let’s hope the freshly-baked goods don’t get pushed right to the back of the working surface – you will be surprised how far I can reach with a good stretch of my paw. 

Mothering Sunday also appears to be an excuse to make Young Lad and Lad do loads of jobs round the house.  I feel this is unfair. There is no such thing as Childering Sunday, is there?  Or Doggering Sunday?  Though I feel this might be misinterpreted…  anyway, Young Lad had to  clean and hoover upstairs this morning, AND halfway down the stairs AND carry the heavy hoover downstairs and put it away.  This is far too much to expect of him.  Then, Readers, the abuse doesn’t stop there – Young Lad was FORCED out on my walk as She didn’t want to walk the bldy dog on her own on Mothering Sunday, and so Young Lad had no choice but to wander slowly for three miles, occasionally throwing a stick for me.  In the event, the nice Mother and Son time together turned out to be Young Lad talking about the Xbox for forty five minutes and She glazing over after five, but there you go.

And what of Lad, on Mothering Sunday?  Where was he – up the chimney? Scrubbing the bathroom?  No, Lad was given special dispensation from menial tasks as he was busy ‘revising’.  Oh that old chestnut.

Well I have to say it was nice at the river today.  The weather was beautiful and there were many families out with their dogs, all smiling and happy.  Well, most of them were smiling and happy.  I found some cack in Top Field and had a good roll, all under my neck, so of course was screamed at and had to have a bath when we got back.  What a load of fuss about nothing. 

On the way back from my very long walk, who did I see but dear, dear Pippa!  Now normally I run like the wind towards her and we romp around, but in truth I was quite tired from my walk AND I had paddled bravely up to my ankles in the river, so I wandered slowly to dear Pippa and just had a very small play.  This involved Pippa jumping over my back and knocking me flying, but it was terrific fun.

Well, there is some shouting up the stairs to Lad, telling him to hurry up and get ready for Express Pizza.  I have heard a whisper, Friends, that someone is working ALL WEEK this week and that I will be abandoned every single day.  As usual, a bevy of neighbours such as LovelyDor and Lovelyneighbourontheright have been drafted in to pick up the pieces of my welfare.

This really isn’t good enough and makes me feel that choking on a dough ball would serve them right.  But then, I do love them.  When they’re here.

Bye for now,



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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