A difficult few days for Him Indoors. Poorly foot that folks tell him is gout. It could be much less impressive. It could be the effects of him walking, yet again, into the door, or the table, or a chair, or in fact anything that the bare-footed idiot regularly does when he is in clumsy mode. Clumsy mode occurs regularly, let me say, and interestingly is not just caused by his love of red wine. He can be clumsy anytime, he’s just not focused when he walks around. I know this because I follow him somewhere and when he arrives he can’t remember what it was he was hoping to find.
But this “injury” has had significant benefits for me. Because he has been unable to barely walk 200 yards, his lovely friend Sarah – a dog-walker, no less, by profession – has taken me for a stroll down the pavements of life every day. Not only the pavements, may I tell you, but the riverbanks of life. Plus….the paths of Wyre Forest with the new love of my life, Lily. A black Labrador of impeccable manners and great affection, who seems to understand that “wanting to play” is beneath her. An unnecessary expansion of exercise. Just a gentle stroll together is the elixir of life at our ages!!
In amongst all this, I was expected to cope with visitors. Not one but two overnight stays after the Boss went off to his Music in the Hall gig. Let me be clear. I do early nights. Not late nights. Bed means Dentastix for me, hence my love of the early night. It equals early Dentastix. Which I bloody love!!!!!
But last week we had two lovely friends stay, which meant opening the red wine upon their return – which was very late – and sitting around the table solving the entire world’s problems until about four o’clock in the morning! I was kippered, absolutely done for and had to wait for the tooth cleaning Dentastix action until bed-time as usual. Very uncaring I felt.
I had barely recovered from this state of affairs when more guests arrived. Family – sister, bro in law, cousins etc – this time. There were so many of them I couldn’t find a comfy place to lay about anywhere. Even my settee was taken by guests. I consider this to be a serious erosion of my privileges. The Boss believes it is his settee, but he is wrong. Even more so since he moved it after taking delivery of his new, larger table because the move has destroyed my view out of the window. I ask you, how can I be a guard dog if I can’t see the burglars arriving?
But the family were pretty generous, making a fuss of me, providing a few fish skins from lunch and giving me a nibble or two of rather nice cheese. Since they hopped off home I’ve been a right lively so and so. It really is a fun game because the Boss is knackered. The last thing he needs is me demanding games. I know I’m being ungrateful but I can’t resist.
Woof! Woof! Woof!
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