Party On

party Yesterday, Friends, I was left alone for a couple of hours and this is never a wise move on a Saturday afternoon.  Bored beyond belief, I had a good look round to see what I could get up to, and from the first kitchen cupboard I opened I dragged a new jumbo sized box of PG Tips teabags into the lounge.  I ripped it open and threw teabags all over the lounge floor.  I went back into the kitchen and found a new pack of beers on the floor by the fridge – they are for Lad – so I ripped that box up as well, and the beers rolled all over the kitchen floor.  I know for a fact that Lad will be very pleased that I’ve made it easier to access his beers.

Of course I was shouted at when they all came home.

It had been a funny old day yesterday.  Detention Friend appeared quite early in the morning and spent several hours with Young Lad on the Xbox.  This was ‘unacceptable’ it seems, though it looked great fun, and they were told they had to go out for some fresh air.  Neither Young Lad nor Detention Friend wanted any fresh air.  In the end a compromise was met and they drove over to a nice town a little way away, so that Young Lad could spend some of his birthday gift vouchers (from many months ago) and She could sit in John Lewis with the bi-annual free cup of coffee and fruit scone.  She had even packed a Good Book to read.  Alas, the plan went wrong from the off.  Once the Saturday-5-weeks-before-Christmas traffic had been negotiated and the bunfight in the car park survived, it transpired that Young Lad had failed to bring his wallet with him.  Thus Young Lad and Detention Friend were only occupied for half an hour in MacDonalds so there was no leisurely reading of the Good Book over the free coffee and scone.  Soon they returned, dejected and cross, and saw the mess I’d made all over the shop in their absence.

In the meantime, of course, He and Lad were having an equally underwhelming time at Wet Sham where they lost to Tottenham.  You can sense the mood here last night.

Anyway more important than any of this, is the news that I am gravely injured.  Yes, Friends, I am hopping around holding my back left leg in the air in a pitiful way, but nobody has taken me to the Evil Vet because they all hope it will get better on its own to avoid a big bill.  It started last week when I was at dear Pippa’s house for daycare – out on our morning walk, I did something to my back leg and it really hurt.  From then on I could barely put it to the ground.  Pippa’s Pack Leader is very loving and caring and bathed my paw in warm water, but it didn’t do the trick and I was still limping when I went home.

I’ve kept up the limping and holding it up for a few days now – sometimes I forget, like if I hear some food drop somewhere and then I appear to be able to run like the wind on four legs as normal – but when I remember to hold it up, I do.  And obviously I ripped into the beers and teabags quite happily on four legs, but that’s not the point.  I have needed to ‘rest’ quite a lot so on Thursday, as Lad had another non-pupil day, I slept happily all day long and Lad deliberately didn’t take me out so that my injury could heal.  That is his story and he’s sticking to it.

I did go for a walk with dear, dear Ebony on Friday and didn’t limp once while we were out, but after I’d had a good sleep in Ebony’s nice armchair later on, I did remember to limp again.

She says that if I’m still limping by Wednesday I’ll have to go the bldy Evil Vet anyway, and God help me if there’s a massive bill.

Wednesday is still a long time off. You would think a caring family might make an appointment a little sooner but I am very low on the list of priorities after Working Full Time and Young Lad’s parents’ evening on Tuesday night.

Today we had a late kick-off for Young Lad’s football match which some people described as bldyinconvenient.   It was an Away fixture, which meant forty minutes of driving around the countryside swearing at Google maps and ending up in a cul-de-sac on a housing estate.  Detention Friend was made to get out of the car and ask a local resident for directions, and so after another good ten minutes of windey country roads and “wheretheheckisthisbldyfootballground?” being muttered, we arrived in an over-crowded car park.  Alas, the trauma still wasn’t over as there were HUNDREDS of bldyfootball pitches and we had to walk miles to find the correct one.  This was unfortunate for me with my three good legs.

Would you believe it – once we found the correct football pitch for Lad and Detention Friend’s game, it was within school grounds and dogs were not allowed.  Thus She and I could not join all the other parents to moan about satnav, Google Maps and life in general and we had to stand alone the other side of a wire fence.  It was like something from Prison Break.

It was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, I suppose, and it wasn’t cold – a child had dropped a few crisps on the ground so I cleaned them up and that whiled away a few seconds.  To be honest I was quite glad to get home, though, and Detention Friend, Young Lad and I all slept soundly in the car all the way back through the country roads.  

While we were at football, a nice lady with a spaniel came to chat and said that she was thinking of getting a beagle, and what did my Pack Leader think about them?  Well, Friends, you can imagine both the tone and the content of THAT conversation.  The words BLDY, NIGHTMARE, INSANE, and NEVER AGAIN filtered through the Autumnal air.  The lady said thank you very much and wandered on.

Golly I am exhausted tonight. It is hard work holding one paw in the air for much of the time.

See you soon,

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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