Last night I went for a lovely walk with She over the Rec. It was a beautiful summer’s evening with the sound of birds singing, footballs being kicked and children’s laughter. How wonderful life is, I thought to myself, as I trotted along. Further up the field I came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly my senses were assaulted (in a nice way) by a very faint but unmistakeable scent wafting across the recreation ground. No, Readers, it wasn’t the usual smell I associate with groups of teenagers sitting on the grass of a summer’s evening. This one was MUCH nicer and I detected a hint of garlic and possibly the odd olive or two.
I stood very still with my tail erect and my nose pointing high in the air, sniffing. I looked incredibly handsome and full of pedigree. Then I took off like a bullet from a gun, towards the car park gravel bit by the old pavilion. I ran and ran, following my keen sense of smell, and She had to run and run behind me shouting my name as She could see what I was about to do. Readers, I had the advantage because a) I’m a dog b) I’m slimmer and more built for running than my Pack Leader and c) I wasn’t wearing silly flip-flops.
There on the corner of the gravelly car park bit was a young couple, probably in love, and enjoying a nice Domino’s pizza out of a cardboard box. I made a beeline for them and was only INCHES away from snatching the entire thing and escaping with it when She launched herself at me and grabbed hold of my collar, shouting “DON’T YOU DARE!” at the same time.
Good Lord it was frustrating. Their pizza was dripping, DRIPPING I tell you in sweetcorn, green peppers, olives, and mozzarella. You have no idea how good that would have tasted in my mouth. I was FURIOUS.
Prior to that I’d had a run-in with a black Bichon Frise type dog, some silly fluffy thing with a pointed nose. It had taken a dislike to me for no reason whatsoever and started having a go. Luckily its Pack Leader pulled it away before I could do any serious damage to it.
So all in all that was quite a stressful walk over the Rec.
On Wednesday, dear dear Ebony’s Pack Leader came to get me (Pippa is still on holiday which I feel is a little excessive) and found herself very amused by our back porch. On the floor lay not one, not two, but three door keys which all looked exactly like the one for the back door. Look, I had fancied some fresh air while I was here on my own, and had tried my hardest to be independent and open the back door. The first key hadn’t worked so I chucked it on the floor. The second key hadn’t worked so I chucked that one on the floor too. The third one didn’t work either which is mighty strange but the floor was the only place for it. Oh I know you sceptics out there are thinking “hang on a minute, a dog can’t open a door with a key; Russell was probably looking for food on the shelf and knocked all the keys down.” Well, you don’t know that for sure, do you?
Anyway. What else has been going on around here? Both Lad and Young Lad have had tests and exams at school and there has been a lot of boring revision about the English Civil War and Atomic Structure. They are not linked, obviously.
Culinary standards have been poor with not enough effort. It’s no wonder Lad and Young Lad spend half their lives looking through the fridge for food. I managed to steal another breakfast waffle from Lad’s plate and I also emptied the bathroom bin all over the floor, eating some of the more interesting contents. Yesterday evening there was some looking under all the bushes in the garden for a ball belonging to the children of Lovelyneighbourontheright. Whilst rooting around under the ruddy Buddleia and the Poxy Philadelphus, my hiding place for rubbish was discovered. There were piles and piles of bread wrappers, bags, ripped up boxes – you name it, it was there. I had hidden it well. So of course there was a load of moaning at me while it all had to be cleared out.
My stomach has been hurting a bit over the last day or two. In fact, Readers, last night I needed a comfort break at 4.30am – well, it wasn’t so much a comfort break as a need to walk round the garden very slowly, eating a lot of long grass. This is a sure sign my digestive system needs a little assistance. I can’t see what the problem is about needing some time out at 4.30 am, and didn’t appreciate being shouted at to hurry up, in a whispery don’t-wake-the-neighbours kind of shout.
It’s very peaceful here tonight. Lad is out with his friends in a town Far Away, Young Lad is happily under the blanket watching something on Netflix and all is very quiet. Tomorrow will be equally quiet as He and Young Lad are going out for the day somewhere exciting, and they are leaving on an early train. I do hope they don’t wake me up as I need a lie-in.
Well, someone is just about to pop out to the kitchen for a glass with an ice cube or two, a slice of lemon and our friend Gordon. So here endeth tonight’s blog.