The answer to the question “why on earth would you chuck a packet of matches round the floor you stupid dog?” is simply: because I can. Ditto what possessed me to carry a glass vase into the lounge, or pull the tin foil/cling film/baking paper out of the cupboard and throw it on the kitchen floor, adding random trainers and slippers for good measure. And the same answer also suffices when asked why Gingercat’s flea treatments and catnip toys are all over the floor.
This was all in one glorious morning, Readers, and truly was the best fun I’ve had for ages. In actual fact in was all in a two-hour slot one morning. The house was trashed when She returned from the early train/school run and ‘popping into town’ to recover from the trauma of these two things.
Yes, I have had company this week as She had a week off work. The thing is, I am a creature of habit and routine and I don’t like my routine upset – whilst it has been pleasant having my Pack Leader around a little more than usual, I have found the constant coming and going very irritating. She says this has been no bldy “week off” whatsoever as it has involved the 6am alarm every day, early morning panic driving to the station, school runs in the pouring rain morning and night, and a lot of dashing around collecting packages, prescriptions and clothes for Lad and Young Lad. Plus football training in the rain for an hour on Wednesday night. Still, parts of the house are looking a little tidier it has to be said and there are two new plants by the front door. I imagine they won’t live long. Plus I’ve cuddled up a couple of times on the sofa at lunchtimes to watch an episode of The Good Doctor which seems to be the new go-to TV programme. You’ll notice it is of the medical genre yet again. Yawn.
But you see, I am used to the routine of going to dear, dear Ebony or Pippa for daycare, and so I’ve had no choice but to behave like a ‘total arse’ every time I’ve been left alone for an hour.
I was called an even ruder name than that on Thursday, when a package arrived for Lad (designer jeans) and whilst She was on the afternoon school run I ripped the package open to see what was inside. It was very disappointing. The thing is, Readers, I didn’t damage the jeans inside the package and actually nobody would have noticed anyway as they have deliberate “rips” in them. Lad paid a LOT of money for these ripped designer jeans and I could have ripped them for him for a fraction of the price – why does nobody think of these things?
Lad asked She if She liked his new designer ripped jeans for which he paid a bldyridiculous amount of money, and I felt it was insensitive to say he looked like a painter and decorator in them. Along with the carefully placed rips are lots of spots and splodges of paint. It took someone at an expensive brand a VERY long time and a LOT of skill to design these.
The other problem with She not being at work this week is that I’ve been moaned at about my weight gain from the incessant bin raiding. (Pot, kettle – I’ve said it before.) So I have been dragged out on lots of VERY long walks. We have averaged seven miles a day and a lot of it has been uphill, which is frankly unnecessary. I have rolled in fox poo a few times and due to this have been on the lead for a lot of the subsequent marathons. Yesterday we went for our second walk of the day, this time along a disused railway line that has a nice cafe a couple of miles down. Once we arrived (panting and damp from the drizzle) at the cafe, She had a chat with lots of people She knows and this got on my nerves. I tried looking under the tables for food and very nearly pulled a metal table over in the process. Then we went in to splash out £1.80 on a mug of tea, and what do you know? There was a box full of dog biscuits for patrons to take for their four-legged friends. She snapped “you don’t deserve one, you’ve been a bldynightmare all week,” but finally gave in and let me have two. They were nice but barely touched the sides.
It hasn’t really stopped raining all week. Tonight it is lashing down yet again, and we’ve just come back from a shorter-than-usual trek (2.5 miles) in the rain. I had to be rubbed down with towels and now I am making the house smell of wet dog, so lots of candles have been lit. Well don’t take me out in the rain, then! I was perfectly happy in my chair.
Readers, despite the pouring rain Lad is at a music festival in some woods today. This started at lunchtime and goes on until late. I fail to see the attraction of standing in a soaking wet forest dancing around to strange music – some people have a very odd idea of having a good time. I imagine poor Lad will be cold and wet and then a bit poorly next week. This is a shame as next week is half term, so Lad and Young Lad are both off school for the week. I am SO relieved that at long last there will be no 6am alarm clock waking Gingercat and I from our slumbers.
And that reminds me – tonight the clocks go back! Yes, I love this annual event as it means we get an extra hour in bed! What could be better!
Well, Readers, Young Lad has just been ordered to put the oven on ready for tonight’s dinner to be cooked – this will be eaten on the sofa as it’s Saturday night and a larger than normal Gordon will be popping round to help ease the pain of a week ferrying Lad and Young Lad around and doing their errands. And clearing up the house after me.
Enjoy that extra hour tonight, British Readers.
Bye for now,