Chicken Sandwich

garden The thing is, Readers, that Lad never learns.  You would have thought after his breakfast croissant fell into my mouth on Monday that Lad might take a little more care and attention, but it seems not.  Today Lad was doing forced labour in the garden again and inadvertently put down his plate containing a good chunky roast chicken and mayo sandwich.  I was out there like greased lightning and before you could say Oh Dear How Vexing, I had grabbed the entire sandwich and run off with it.  Lad tried to get hold of my collar but I made some strange choking/snarling noises that told him to back off, and so I ran under a bush and ate the sandwich.

It was nice.

Thus Lad didn’t have any lunch and had to continue his forced labour in the garden undernourished.

It’s been quite a successful day on the food front, as only an hour or so after the incident of the sandwich, I stood in the garden and barked a lot to indicate it was time for my dinner.  This is normally 4pm, but I thought I’d try my luck at 2pm and sure enough, everyone was so fed up with my barking that Young Lad was told to feed me.

Then at 5pm I pretended to forget that I’d been fed at 2pm and started all over again.  It was fun.

Young Lad and Detention Friend have been at football training tonight, so while there was nobody home I went through the bin in Lad’s bedroom.  There were several crisp packets and tissues so I had a good rip through all of them.  Then I dragged some rubbish out of the bin in the downstairs toilet, into the lounge and chucked it on the floor.  He found it when He came in from work, and told me off in a very chuckly Oh Russell kind of way.  

Young Lad, Detention Friend and He are all on the sofa now to watch a football match on the telly.  There is a large tray of snacks about to come in, with which to sustain them during this ordeal, and I will make sure I am sitting very centrally to all of this.  Some frantic hoovering was done earlier, and it would be a tragedy if the clean carpet became covered in Oreo crumbs and the such like, so I will do my best to clear up.

Yesterday I got into trouble for biting She.  I didn’t mean to, obviously and actually it was She’s fault for not paying attention; She took a small piece of out-of-date turkey slice from the fridge to give me (I had done as I was told for once), and without waiting for her to lower her hand to my mouth I thought I’d save her the trouble and jumped up to grab it.  Unfortunately She wasn’t watching and the first She knew of this was a searing pain where I had slightly misjudged the distance and caught her hand in my sharp front canine. Oh the fuss – you would have thought I’d broken the skin or something, but I hadn’t quite gone through the skin; it was just a sore red bit and didn’t require all the ooing and ahhing and running it under a cold tap.  Yes a dog bite is excruciatingly painful, but really – just look what you’re doing!

Re the out-of-date turkey slice – I don’t want you to think that such food is bought for human consumption.  No, Readers, this is only purchased as a “treat” (I use the word very loosely) for Gingercat and I.

Yesterday was another beautiful day which meant that Lad was conscripted into the garden for hard labour.  As was the case last year (in fact I think I mentioned it in my book) it was time for the Ruddy Buddleia tree to be cut down (or ‘pruned’ as She likes to euphemistically call it) and so Lad was out there with a hacksaw and some large clipper things for HOURS last night, cutting it down.  Then of course today the job had to be finished and all of the tree cuttings stuffed into the large green dustbin – and as usual they didn’t all fit in so Young Lad had to climb a ladder to get in the bin and jump up and down to squash it all down.  Regular Readers will remember this charade from last year – really, it’s ridiculous.  

Quite understandably Lad decided to go out with his friends in a town far away after all this, for some light relief.

I had a lovely walk this afternoon – even bumping into Colin The Australian Labradoodle, whom I haven’t seen for months.  We had a quick romp and then I moved on.  We went right up to the back of Far Field which had been freshly mowed, so there were a lot of wonderful smells in the grass bits.  It took me a long time to complete my circuit of this field and there was some irritable shouting at me.  Then I had to go on the lead for a while as a large tractor with the grass cutting attachment was still hovering around in a menacing way.

As we were heading back up the path, there in front of me was dear, dear Chuck.  Again, I haven’t seen Chuck for ages so we stopped for a long chat and then walked on slowly together.  This was much more civilised than the stupid marching pace at which we normally stomp around.  Chuck is looking wonderful and his coat is gleaming – such is the success of Greek Yogurt in his diet.

Well I daresay that if I finish writing now and dash into the lounge, I will find some breadstick crumbs and possibly a few crisps on the floor – I have heard Detention Friend becoming quite animated at the football so surely he must have spilled something.  I have no idea what is on the agenda for tomorrow – I would like to think as little as possible but I doubt that very much, and imagine Young Lad will be dragged out for some Fresh Air.  As will I.

I was really quite chuffed about the chicken sandwich, Friends.  That was quite a result.

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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