22 August 2016 (Monday) - More Dog Stuff

I was about to go to bed early last night when my little dog started vigorously attacking his teddy bear. You can see what he was up below (if it works…)

I was so enthralled to see him doing anything other than feeling sorry for himself so I sat and watched and was a lot later to bed than I'd intended.
I slept reasonably well, although was plagued by nightmares about working on Christmas day with a load of old schoolfriends who had been conscripted into the NHS for no apparent reason.

I got up shortly before 6am and fussed my dog a little. He wasn't as lively at 6am this morning as he was at 11pm last night. I had to turn up the volume of the telly to hear "Dad's Army" over his snoring.

As I drove to work the radio was spewing its usual blend of drivel. Mind you there was an interesting interview with the French Minister of something-or-other who said (quite rightly) that having voted to leave the EU Britain should go. It's not fair on the rest of the EU to mess them about; they've got plans to make. Personally I wouldn't be surprised to see them pull up the drawbridge on the UK.

And there was talk about documents have been found which allege that during the 1960s the Home Office gave permission for doctors to give experimental drugs to pupils in approved schools to calm them down.  (For those of my loyal readers who are unaware of the term, an "approved school" was tantamount to prison for the nastiest and most ill-behaved children)

This was billed as a bad thing; I can think of several evil brats with whom I was at school (in the 1970s) who could have done with being forcibly tranquilized - and I was at a Grammar School !

I got to work, and we didn't really have a good day. Things would have been far better had the local farmers not been muck-spreading. A colleague was complaining about the terrible smell of pigshit.  I felt that (at the risk of being pedantic) I had to correct her. It was actually a very good smell of pigshit, smelling as I always remembered pigshit smelt. A *terrible* smell of pigshit would have smelt of something quite different.
It was conceded that I had a point, but this in no way reduced the vile odour of said pigshit.

I did my bit and came home as quickly as I could; a new geocache had gone live along my route home. I missed being First to Find by two hours. I was a tad miffed about that.

Again I came home hoping my little dog would be waiting at the door. He wasn’t, but he seemed very keen to see me, and he jumped up when I suggested he might like to go into the garden. He had a good bark at the Koi, then ran to the kitchen and looked hopefully at his collar and lead. I had intended not walking hm for a while, but he wanted to go out. As we walked he tried to pick a fight with a Staffie, and he came back seeming not in pain at all.
He ate all his tea, and is now currently destroying his telly bear even more…

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