Now Readers, you may well be thinking that this is a beautiful, nay idyllic, scene in our wondrous countryside but shortly after this photo was taken, a Terrible Event occurred. You can easily see that the river has burst its banks yet again and the path and fields where I usually have my walk were submerged. The bridge over the river was completely under water too. It’s not the first time it’s happened and it won’t be the last.

It also wasn’t the first time that my Pack Leader decided to ‘risk it’ and try to walk over the bridge thus making me walk over the submerged bridge too. You may remember that we tried this over Christmas when it flooded, and when we turned back someone shouted “chicken” at us which wasn’t really a gesture of goodwill. Undaunted, Pack Leader decided this week that it didn’t look “too deep” and was quite set on going up into Top Field, Top Top Field and maybe even the woods and so we had to cross the bridge.

I went first, Friends, as I am gallant and adventurous. I waded through the water on the first part of the bridge, with She just behind me. She was busy checking how far up her wellington boots the water came, and trying to gauge whether it was going to get much deeper in the middle of the bridge (it was). So wrapped up in her own safety was She that She failed to notice I was stuck. Readers I had reached a depth of water with which I was not comfortable – let’s say it was halfway up my side and I’m not a very tall dog. It was perfectly obvious to me that if I took one more step towards the deep part, I would drown. And so I did the only sensible thing, which was to climb onto the bank at the side of the bridge and stand there shivering.

Of course, my Pack Leader took no notice of me as She was still estimating how much further up her welly boots she could afford the water to go.

Although I was now safely on dry land, Friends, I was stranded. The only choice was to go back through the deep water the way I’d come, or to carry on into the even deeper part and certain death. I didn’t know what to do, so stood there trembling with cold and a bit of fear, weighing up my options. Neither of them appealed. You would think at this point that any loving Pack Leader would forget about their wellington boots and rush to my rescue, but all She did was screech “Russell, COME BACK HERE YOU STUPID DOG” which wasn’t the nurturing I needed. I refused to respond to this rudeness, so after much more shouting and huffing, She took a few more steps through the deep water – precariously close to the top of the wellington boots now – towards me. I still couldn’t move, so frozen with fear and indecision was I, so simply stood there whimpering and looking as sad as I possibly could.

She had to reach her arm as far as possible towards me, and just managed to grab my collar whilst hissing ‘for God’s sake, Russell.” Readers, I was then virtually lifted into the air by my collar and dragged back along the bridge, half in the deep water.

I can tell you that I was very glad to be back on terra firma, and was mighty glad to get home and into my armchair for the rest of the day. The trauma!

Of course, the trauma hasn’t stopped there this week. You will remember from my last blog that my anal glands have been playing up a little, and that some DIY anal gland expressing had been tried at home, using a rubber glove, towel, kitchen paper and my muzzle. Readers it was unlikely that this was going to be a long-term solution and so I was dragged off to the Evil Vet the other night – 7pm if you will! This is far too late at night for such things. Due to Covid restrictions nobody is allowed in the building at the Evil Vet’s and so there I was in the dark and cold, standing outside the Evil Vet’s in the drizzle, shivering. After what seemed an eternity, an extremely young lady in a white coat who I’m quite sure wasn’t old enough to be a proper Evil Vet, came and tried to lead me into the surgery – well! I wasn’t having that. I pulled in the opposite direction, trying desperately to get back to the safety of my beloved Pack Leader – who was busy looking at her phone – but with one mighty tug, the young Evil Vet had me inside the building. What happened next doesn’t bear thinking about and would make your eyes water, so I won’t go into details, but just know that it hurt. A lot. I cried.

I know it’s for my own good. I know my anal glands will feel (and smell) better the next day. But I don’t like it!

In other news, Young Lad is continuing his quest to never set foot in a school again in his entire life and has been doing his online learning each day. The thing is, Young Lad is here on his own all day with just myself and Gingercat, so we are the only ones who know what Young Lad does or doesn’t do all day. Readers there is a saying. What goes on tour stays on tour. Gingercat and I are saying nuffing.

That said, Young Lad DID eventually make his meringues and lemon curd, and they were jolly good. The meringues were just the right amount of crispy yet chewy and the lemon curd was delicious. We didn’t have a bain marie to use, so Young Lad had to make do with a small saucepan and a bowl balanced on top of it. I’m sure this is not how Jamie Oliver started and it might be nice if Young Lad was provided with the proper equipment. To Young Lad’s disgust, he then had to answer lots of questions about the uses of eggs in cooking which, I quite agree, is boring and pointless and rather takes the joy out of the exercise.

Because of Lockdown Young Lad has not seen any of his friends for several months now, so She allows him on the Xbox in the evenings so that he can play games online with his chums, shout, argue, fall out over Fifa 21 and the such like. It also means She gets Netflix all to herself. This benefits me too as there is more room on the sofa for me, and I do like to spread out.

And what of Lad, I hear you cry – well fear not, Lad is yet again working very hard for exams. Actually his exams were last week so this week he is working very hard trying to recover from exams. Life is very vexing at times for Lad, and She has received several text messages while at work this week such as “what’s our BT Sport login” and “how do you handwash a designer t shirt.” Poor Lad, he has an awful lot on his mind.

Readers it is nearly Friday -oh thank God!! someone not a million miles away from me is shouting – and the weekend will soon be upon us. I know for a fact that I will be dragged down to the river to see how much worse the flooding is – yes really – and there will be long, muddy walks. I had a very muddy one today with my dear friend Ebony and even had to be hosed down in the garden when we returned – I ‘m not really used to being treated like this, but Ebony’s Pack Leader is very kind and it would have been churlish of me to say anything. Tomorrow I’m seeing dear, dear Pippa so who knows what might happen. What I do know is that Gordon will be popping round tomorrow night with a clink ad a fizz, as Gordon is needed more than ever these days.

Stay safe in Lockdown Friends, and look after yourselves.

See you soon,


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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