A Decade of Me

I know, Readers, I know. I don’t look it, and I certainly don’t behave like it, but it was in fact my tenth birthday this week. Ten whole years I have been alive, causing carnage every day at home and behaving impeccably everywhere else.

You would think my tenth birthday might necessitate some celebration, but no. Not in my house, Friends, and in all honesty it didn’t surprise me. Nobody cares. In fact I spent most of my tenth birthday on a doggy sleepover at dear, dear Pippa’s house as my own family were away or too busy to look after me – I ask you! Now, I’ve been told that She and New Buddy were away on a little trip, most of which was spent in a large Scandinavian furniture store, and that New Buddy kept picking things up to buy for me as a birthday present, but She snapped,”NO!” at him each time. This is typical. Thank you, New Buddy, for trying. (Though I really wouldn’t have been impressed by a cuddly toy and would have preferred the meatballs or hot dog from the Scandinavian furniture store.)

The day AFTER my tenth birthday, my family actually deigned to be at home and I must say I spent a very pleasant evening last night curled up on She’s lap and slightly sprawled across Young Lad, as they watched television together. It was a cosy family scene, and Gingercat joined in too. This was a rare but peaceful moment in our house, and we were all very happy.

The same won’t happen tonight, however. She, Young Lad and Gingercat are all here, but I have phenomenally bad wind tonight and won’t be allowed to join them. There has been a scented candle on the go since mid afternoon, but the lounge still smells like a septic tank. I don’t know what I’ve eaten, Friends, but it is a little potent. She says I have bad breath too – I kept yawning in her face whilst sitting on her lap last night – so I appear to reek from both ends. I can’t help it. Really and truly She should take me to the Evil Vet to see why my breath stinks – I might have a terrible tooth abscess or something – but She says She can’t bldy afford it, and I can wait till my next pedicure appointment. Quite how the Evil Vet will look at my teeth I don’t know, as they have to muzzle me to even get me through the door. I suppose they know what they are doing.

I had a MARVELLOUS time last Sunday, Readers, as I was taken out for long walk in the countryside with my old friend Ruffles . Ruffles is a very large, very bouncy and very energetic Cockapoo and I haven’t seen him for TWO years!! How we leapt all over each other with joy when we were reunited after all that time. Now, poor Ruffles has been very poorly indeed recently – he had eaten something stupid – and was in a A Very Bad Way. But after worrying his Pack Leader and running up a huge vet bill for cutting his stomach open and removing things, Ruffles is now back to normal. We had tremendous fun on our one and a half hour’s walk – Good Lord, I was exhausted.

As I write this tonight, Friends, I am looking around the room and am quite pleased with my handiwork. She spent a whole day recently “tidying up” as the house was a bombsite – “tidying up” means clearing up two rooms and chucking all the stuff in the study. Anyway, the lounge and kitchen have been looking quite organised and clean all week for a change, so I got hold of some bits from the recycling bag outside and dragged them in the lounge. Under the dining room table I can see a ripped up breadsticks box, cat food wrappers and a plastic pot that once contained houmous. She will have to lie down on the floor and wriggle under the table to clear all the mess up. Serves her right. The garden also has things from the recycling sacks thrown all over the shop where I’ve ripped them up and spat bits of cardboard everywhere. It looks a complete hovel. I don’t EVER do this at dear, dear Ebony or Pippa’s houses when I’m there.

That said, last weekend at New Buddy’s house (which really is my weekend home, let’s face it), I did make a bold attempt to re-distribute his recycling round the garden. I got as far as a ham packet, Friends, and ran off with it before New Buddy shouted at me. I apologised straight away and explained I had simply forgotten where I was.

Young Lad has been busy in the kitchen recently, Friends – well, occasionally – and put his new pasta machine to use. Young Lad did a very good job, making pasta from scratch and rolling it out many times in the machine, and using the tagliatelle cutting setting. They had a delicious dinner of tagliatelle aglio e olio and it really was marvellous. Well done, Young Lad. Then She decided tonight that She would use the pasta that hadn’t been used for the tagliatelle, and try to make tortelloni. Ha ha ha. How I laughed, Friends. Young Lad was busy doing some revision (yes, really) and then relaxing on the Xbox, so She cracked on all by herself. The mushroom and sage butter filling smelled quite tasty to be fair, but dear God…..the fuss cutting out circles of pasta , filling them and shaping them into crescents… the end result was grey and stodgy and smacked of little talent. I really think She should leave these things to Young Lad. Admittedly She had already made a nice cheesecake and gluten -free choc chip cookies, but the tortelloni was a step too far and She should know her limits.

I went to my favourite cafe recently, Friends, on a Saturday morning with New Buddy and She. This had become a rather nice routine for me, but recently they’ve been going to the gym instead. I know! How selfish and unnecessary. I was very glad to see normal service resume last weekend, and the gym visit was moved to the afternoon so that I could go to the cafe in the morning. Quite right too. Sometimes they forget to hang on to my lead and I wander off round the place – nobody seems to mind. There is always something to hoover up off the floor, and I feel I’m providing something of a service.

I had rather a shock when I went for daycare to dear Ebony’s house recently. There is a new resident at Ebony’s house, called Bill. Bill is a very small, very young kitten. I’m slightly scared of Bill. I was very well behaved, though and let Bill sniff my nose and try to kiss me. Bill has sharp claws.

There is a lot of shouting from the other room tonight, as Young Lad is on the Xbox with his friends and things are getting heated. I don’t know what the point of it all is. I think Young Lad deserves to let off steam, though, as he has had a demanding day. Not only did he have to get up and have a shower (“AND HAIR WASH!!”) by lunchtime today, but then he was dragged into town for a haircut. The only way to make Young Lad agree to this is to take him to Costalotta for lunch. This makes the haircut quite expensive but needs must. Then Young Lad was forced to do school work as he has exams coming up, so HAD to do revision for both Food Tech and History for goodness’ sake. Poor Young Lad. Too much is expected of him, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

Then there is Lad. Lad is still at university and has surprised us all by not coming home for the last five weeks. Lad is in She’s bad books as usual, in many, many ways – not least because She spent an afternoon assembling Lad’s workout bench, which was a Christmas present. This required a lot of huffing and puffing, and moaning about crap instruction booklets, and failing to line up holes properly, but eventually Lad’s workout bench was assembled. She texted Lad to brag about having assembled his bldy workout bench and to ask when he would like She to drive it all the way down to university – Lad said don’t bother, I don’t need it here, just keep it at home. There were some firm words.

Lad is very busy, as usual. Nobody really knows what he’s very busy doing, but he is rarely able to answer text messages or phone calls. It must be exhausting being at university.

I have a lot of lumps, Friends. Apparently this is due to my age, and dogs in their more senior years do tend to grow lots of fatty lumps. I’m also a bit stiff and when I’ve been asleep and try to get up, one of my back legs isn’t quite as flexible as it used to be. I have to be lifted in and out of the Range Rover, of course, as that is very high up, but sometimes lately I’ve intimated to She that She needs to lift me into the boot of her soppy car. I really can’t be bothered to jump up. She takes pity – I know, surprising, right? – and lifts me in and out. Maybe it’s because She is getting old too, and has lumpy bits and stiff bits.

There is a massive storm forecast for tomorrow here, Friends. Obviously those of you reading this in Australia or America, it won’t affect you, but everyone in the UK has Been Warned By The Met Office. So I jolly well hope I don’t get dragged out for a walk in the woods – She has been known to be that stupid – and that we all stay in, nice and cosy and safe. For their sake I hope my bad wind clears up a little, as it really is unpleasant tonight, but hey ho.

Stay safe everyone.

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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