The Boss can’t sleep. Which means I can’t sleep either because he gets up with no consideration for me at all. Lights on, music on, cups of tea. What about my sleep I ask but he just sort of grunts a response. He is very definitely not happy in the middle of the night. But then, who is? Actually he seems quite relaxed with it most times. We snuggle downstairs on the settee – well, I snuggle on the top behind him and go back to sleep – but I assume he drinks his tea and watches one of his many TV drama series to which I’m beginning to think he is just a trifle addicted.
We had a couple of weeks of full-time relaxation when Festival ended. I had him all to myself, we walked a lot along the river and my tail was seriously wagging. I do love him being around. The downside to all this is that he then went to see the nutrionalist lady he worked with 7 years ago because he’s put himself on a weight loss objective!
I laughed!! I did laugh! This is Mr Cakes & Chocolate! Mr Red Wine! Mr Jamesons! I settled back to watch this all come to nothing but what I had failed to understand was that (1) he was ACTUALLY serious about it and worse (2) I was included!!!!!
He came back from Catrina with all sorts of knowledge. It was a bit frightening when he started talking about Oolong Tea, SugarVida and the like, let me tell you.
Suddenly my favourite tit-bits stopped being supplied to me. My dinner seemed to me greatly reduced and what had happened to my pieces of steak being saved for me? Do you know I am permanently hungry. But he isn’t giving in. Oh no, he just gives me a hug and tells me “you need to lose a bit”. Cheeky sod. If I need to lose a bit, he needs to lose masses!!!!
I’ll keep you all updated on his progress. I can quietly confess to all my fans that I actually feel rather well on my diet. My back legs, where I think I’ve a touch of arthritis, have been no trouble lately which means I can run off out in front when we’re walking and he can’t catch me.
As for Him Indoors, he stood on his scales this morning after his shower (I can assure you all this is not a pretty sight at 8.30 in the morning) and announced to me, as if I cared, that he was up to 10lbs lost.
I can report his general demeanour is rather good bearing in mind he has to try and reduce his famed alcohol level intake. I can see him struggling drinking pints of water (his visits to the loo have increased more than I dare speak about) rather than his usual bottle of Pinot Noir or Chiroubles with his dinner. I’m not certain I’ve ever seen him more sober in the evenings!!!!
The downside of this is that he has had the chance to be aware of the Brexit shenanigans of recent times rather than view it through a red wine haze of amusement. It has provided me plenty of sleeping opportunities whilst Him Indoors sat watching developments and making rather coarse comments about Mr Rees-Mogg and his non-existent battalions of plotters. A grudging respect for the survival properties of The Maybot was forthcoming.
His world suffered yet another loss he told me as he was going out yesterday to the funeral of his third good pal to die this year. His former IFA Kevin Fay who had received the same diagnosis as his Chris had received, and apparently fought it the bastard illness in the same dignified way. I knew his rather lively dog Alf, because we met at the pub and had walks together. He is fun Alf, and like The Boss I shall miss seeing them greatly. Perhaps The Boss will meet Kevin’s wdow and I can catch up on how its going for Alf, who I bet his missing his master.
I’d best call it a day. It appears His Nibs has a Christmas letter to write so that we can get the cards sorted. I’m not sure what Christmas is actually. As long he’s about for me lots and lots I’m in favour of it.
Woof! Woof!
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