I know, Readers, there has been no blog for ages. You’ve all been wondering where I’ve been and why I’ve been too busy to write. I can only apologise.
Last week I popped down to see Grandma for a few days with He and Young Lad. We had a very nice time, with lots of splendid walks to the pub, and I was completely well-behaved throughout. Apart from farting a lot in the car on the journey to and from Grandma’s.
I came home very briefly for one night, after which I was bundled into the car yet again and taken down to Nana Aged 88’s house. This was a very long journey undertaken on a boiling hot bank holiday with three million other motorists and there was a lot of swearing from the driver’s seat, but I slept peacefully throughout and was very glad of the air conditioning in the car. Today we have driven all the way back home again, and I am happy to be back in my armchair tonight.
Although I behaved very well at Grandma’s house, not putting a single paw wrong, as soon as I got home all that changed. I ran straight to the kitchen, ignoring Pack Leader who was waiting to greet me in the hall, as I wanted to grab any cat food that Gingercat might have left. There wasn’t any, so I sprinted out to the garden to a) check under the bird table for any crumbs and b) eat up the rotten windfall apples and greengages from the lawn. I enjoyed this and decided I would ignore She shouting “HELLO RUSSELL” from the kitchen. The windfall apples were pretty rotten and fermenting, but this doesn’t bother me.
Eventually She stopped trying to get my attention and changed tack by putting my lead on me and taking me out for a walk. I had a marvellous time, as I hadn’t been down at the river all week, and it was good to be back with familiar sights and smells. Even better was the vision of dear, dear Pippa bounding towards me across the field – oh heaven! My dear friend. She lolloped up to me and crashed into my side, knocking me flying – oh how we laughed! Then we chased each other around all over the shop, with Pippa jumping on me and over me, and occasionally into me. I snapped and snarled and a few onlookers were a little concerned at the ferocity of our play but it was all quite friendly. I was exhausted after continuing my walk with dear Pippa.
On the way home I spotted a dead bird under a bush and grabbed it. Now, this dead bird had been there for at least a week so was in the beginning stages of decomposition in all probability but you can’t miss out on opportunities like this, so I ate it. It was quite tricky crunching through the wing bones and they took a while to go down, but I managed eventually. I was shouted at.
To be honest, I didn’t feel very well for the rest of the evening after that. My eyes went a bit glazed looking and I had one heck of a stomach ache, so I curled up in my chair and looked sad. Any caring Pack Leader would have rushed me out to the Emergency Evil Vet, but all mine did was google “dog eats dead bird” and found out that dead bird carcasses can carry a parasite of some sort. Then She said, “ohforgod’ssakeRussell” and lots of sympathetic things like that and left me to get on with it. As I didn’t have diarrhoea (She checked in the garden with a torch) there was no need to take me to the Emergency Evil Vet, it seems.
I felt a lot better by the next morning, Friends.
So then came the next car journey down to see Nana Aged 88. It was a long journey in a lot of traffic and Lad and I both needed a comfort break, so we had to pull off at Thurrock services for a few minutes. I was walked round the car park and onto a small patch of grass for my comfort break but you’ll be pleased to know that Lad went into the services and used the facilities.
Once at Nana Aged 88’s I was very well-behaved yet again, and this time I did not trash her kitchen or anything. In fact my only misdemeanour was to jump up to get the cat food and knock the ceramic cat bowl to the floor where it broke. Nana Aged 88 remarked that those bowls are quite expensive but then she really shouldn’t leave it where I can reach it. I had a nice evening lying on Nana Aged 88’s sofa and being very good.
I slept solidly in the car on the way home this afternoon, but a small leakage from my anal glands has made the car smell like Billingsgate Fish Market, or so I’m told. People do exaggerate.
Tonight, home again, I’ve had a lovely walk down at the river just as the day was cooling down. I found some fresh fox poo and had a roll, so had to walk home with black streaks all down my back and neck. I wasn’t put in the bath, Readers, as I usually am, but scrubbed rather firmly with a flannel, water and “Fox Poo Shampoo.” It was quite annoying.
Tomorrow should be a nice peaceful day at home with no long car journeys. Lad now has a job and is working a “ridiculously long shift” from 10am to 5pm. Lad has already completed two days of his stupid new job with its long hours and rubbish pay, and tomorrow will be his third. He has to work the next day as well – watch this space as to whether he makes a fifth day in the world of high-end branded clothes retailing. Lad gets no sympathy even though going to work makes your back ache a lot, but I do know how he feels and it’s why I have to sleep a lot in my chair. Poor Lad. I don’t think She snippily suggesting that going to bed before 1am might be a good idea is all that helpful.
Well you can certainly tell that someone has spent much of the last 24 hours driving on the motorway in bank holiday bldy traffic, as there is the unmistakable sound of clinking ice from the kitchen, and soon her friend Gordon will be appearing in a large glass. Accompanied by a contented sigh and a German crime series on Netflix, Gordon will improve the mood in here a little.
Personally I can’t wait until bed time as I’m exhausted from all my journeying around. Luckily Gingercat is always allowed to stay here as LovelyDor down the road comes in to feed him. Gingercat is never shoved into the car and dragged around like I am.
Bye for now,