Mum’s away so I have been at boot camp the past week. Mostly had fun: two walks a day, cats that play with me (sometimes even when I’m not feeling playful…) games with the sprog.
Today, however, my Irish aunt said I had to earn my keep and I had to go and work for the day. Boy, wasn’t sure about this but, as ever, I ventured forth with enthusiasm – too much maybe as I got told off for pulling on the lead.
We got to her work and, yes, I remembered the rules:
* 1. Don’t pee on the bags
* 2. Don’t bark at the customers
*3. Only greet a customer if they are dog friendly.
OK, I got it – and whoop, whoop, our day began. Lots of people came and most people gave me loads of fuss and cuddles. This work palaver is a piece of cake! Think I’ll earn my keep more often. Happy days.
I still miss my mum though.
Never known my mum so mad. I’m locked away in the back room with my bed and a bowl of water, no biscuits, no loves.
The morning didn’t start well: my mum isn’t sleeping cos her back is hurting so she didn’t appreciate my enthusiastic greeting. Or pulling on the lead. Or trying to cross the road ahead of her. Or losing my Chuck It ball. Or getting sticky stuff on my head.
No, I kept the best till we arrived at the bowling green. I’ve done a few runs then decide I need to relieve myself – against someone’s bowling bag. If my mum hadn’t shrieked I doubt if any of the players would have noticed. She was incandescent.
I was marched home peremptorily. As we walked back it started to rain. I expect that will wash the bowling bag…
Sticky stuff on my head.
I am in disgrace. I may never be taken on a picnic again. Mum prepared lots of lovely food so we could eat al fresco near a favourite pub and I messed up. Big time.
It didn’t start well because I was so excited that I tugged her out of the car and hurtled towards the pub so fast that she couldn’t keep up and had to let go of my lead. That’s a no-no. I’m still head down in embarrassment when we sat down and, with all the stress, had to relieve myself. NOT against the table she yelled. Oops, another mistake.
She put the picnic bag down on the grass and started on her drink while I perused the other people and their dogs. Then it happened – I don’t know what got into me – I raised my leg again and peed against the picnic bag! She was incandescent, snatched the bag and started yelling how I was a disgrace. Seems there’s already a ‘p’ in picnic.
There was more. The bag went straight in the washing machine when we got home but, while she took out the food containers, she forgot about the red paper napkins; they disintegrated in the wash and the bag came out covered in red blobs. I may have to lie low for some time.