25 March 2017 (Saturday) - Fox Poo Flavoured Puppy Vomit
Anyone who knows me will know I have something of a liking for the band Sparks. There aren’t many bands which have been active as long as they have. I can remember taking a day off work (twenty years ago) to get a CD of their album “Plagarism” from the HMV shop in London. Yesterday they released a new single. As a life-long Sparks fan I can honestly say this is one of the biggest disappointments I’ve ever had… Today sees the launch of their new album “Hippopotamus”. On the strength of yesterday’s single I shan’t be going out of my way to get the new album.
I did have a wry smile as I read Facebook. One chap I know has been posting all sorts of selfish right wing propaganda for years. Recently he’s fallen head-over-heels in love with someone who’s very obviously at the other end of the political spectrum. Now he’s changed his opinion 100%. Bless him.
We popped the leads onto the dogs and drove out to Sarre. Following a straight line would have been fifteen miles shorter, but going the log way round bypassed Canterbury and saved twenty minutes. As we drove the dogs sat in the back seat, and as we arrived Treacle was sick. Just a little handful of regurgitated dog food. Charming!
We met up with Tracey, Karl and Charlotte and went for a little walk. The “Across the Marshes” series of geocaches runs in a straight line so we planned to walk the line, walk half way back to divert onto another circular series of caches, then make our way back to the cars. It was a plan that worked. We had an excellent walk; beautiful scenery; we heard chaffinches and skylarks, we met some very friendly alpacas. It was only a shame that Treacle persistently disgraced herself by continually eating fox poo, and then by falling into one of the drainage ditches. Still, it answered the question of whether or not she could swim.
I took some photos as we walked. I do that.
Cache-wise the hides were tricky. There was one that we were sure was missing. Once past the final and on the way back we met friends who’d been following us. They too hadn’t been able to find the missing one so I messaged the chap who’d hidden it, and as we walked back past it we replaced it. We are kind like that.
The plan had been to go for a pint in the pub after the walk, but time was against us. I thought we might be walking for about eight miles; “Hannah” said it was a shade over eleven. The puppy has never walked so far before. We said our goodbyes and set off home.
As we drove Fudge was soon fast asleep. But Treacle was restless so I pulled her onto my lap. She slept for a while (doing the stinkiest farts imaginable) but when we were only two minutes’ drive from home she blew. She blew big time. The morning’s sick was just peanuts compared to this one. She threw up, covering me in a pint of the foulest vilest black slimy mixture of half-digested fox poo and ditch water. We pulled up as quickly as we could. I got the car door open and chucked several handfuls of the stuff out of the car before standing up myself to scrape off as best I could.
I was rather glad to get home and get out of what I was wearing.
Once everyone was washed we settled the dogs (who were soon both snoring) and set off to Lyminge where “Access All Areas” were playing a gig We had a really good evening meeting up with loads of friends who were along. I was particularly pleased to meet an old colleague who was along to a hen party who were all drinking heavily there, and I was able to get all the girls to heckle the ban.