I woke shivering; an alliance of "er indoors TM",
Treacle and Pogo had captured most of the duvet. I tried to get some back, but
found myself fighting a losing battle, gave up, and got up.
Over brekkie I peered into the Internet. The Facebook page
of the epically-chested porn-monger that I reported to the Facebook feds
yesterday was still up and running. Whoever it is that runs Facebook has some
very dubious standards. They will suspend users for using a name by which they
are known rather than their birth name, but are quite happy to allow animal
cruelty and pornography on their site.
There was quite a bit of politics being bandied about on
Facebook too as people were trying to understand the Prime Minister’s
proclamation that he made last Sunday. There were those who said that it was
all perfectly clear and there were those who said it was all very
contradictory. In these very uncertain times whatever the Prime Minister says
will be wrong, but I can’t help but feel that if he’d made a point of speaking
for a much shorter period of time, and re-recorded the message a few times to
take out all the hesitancy, ums and ahs, and upper-class grunting noises, he
would have come over a lot more convincingly.
Fortunately all the squabbling on the geocaching pages
seemed to have died down.
I only had one email today. On 15 May 2018 I wrote about
how the British Mammal Society were trying to survey the UK’s mammals and had
created an app. The idea was that you photographed a mammal, said what it was
and told them. Their experts would have a look and see if you got it right and using
the GPS location on the photo they could build up a picture of the UK’s mammal
population.
This morning they told me that I had correctly identified
three squirrels in the park in July 2018.
"er indoors TM" distracted
Fudge, and I took Treacle and Pogo round the park. We had a good walk; we had
no “episodes” at all. We met other dog-walking acquaintances who all
asked after Fudge. Several of them commented on all the other never-before-walked
dogs that are infesting the park. I smiled – it isn’t just me who has noticed
this.
With dogs walked I strimmed the lawn edges and mowed the
lawn. Arguably it didn’t need mowing, but I’d rather keep it short and easily
mowed (once a week) rather than breaking my back trying to hack down a
jungle (any less frequently). I got the lawn mower and strimmer out, set
them all up… and then went round with the poo shovel. Despite having already
cleared the garden, my furry associates had again left their mark.
How can three small dogs produce so much dung?
I popped to the corner shop. As I got there I saw a “rather
delightful family” outside. The young mother (with earphones in each ear)
shrieked at the four children (all coughing profusely) to stay outside
the f…ing shop.
Three of them stayed
outside the f…ing shop, but the fourth tried to follow her mother in and got
her hand shut in the door. As she cried so her brother yanked her hand out and
made her cry more. I told the young mother about this when I went in. She
glared at me for making her take an earphone out, announced “whatever”,
bought forty cigarettes, and then went out and screamed at the small child who
was crying.
She’d got her cigarettes; I got two packs of self-raising
flour. A month or so ago toilet roll was like gold dust; now it is baking
ingredients.
"er indoors TM" seemed pleased
with the self-raising flour. Even more pleased than I was, which was odd. She’s
the one who does the baking. Mind you she’s getting good at it.
After a quick cuppa I took Fudge to the vet for a blood
pressure check. As we waited so another “family from hell” arrived with
some sort of killer-murder-hound in tow. The receptionist politely
reminded them that only one person is supposed to come to the consultation. The
mother of the tribe laughed contemptuously, pointed at the father who was
fighting with the dog, and loudly announced “well, I can’t drag that f…er
about, can I?”
Bearing in mind Fudge’s problems of the last week we got
seen by the vet rather than the nurse (as had been planned). She could
find nothing obviously causing him pain, so said to carry on forcing him to
rest. His blood pressure was one hundred and fifty-two (vets don’t measure
the diastolic pressure) which is pretty much what it was last time, which
was good. However having seen the vet, the bill was twice what I’d expected to
shell out.
Oh well… I didn’t want that Lego lunar module model anyway
(!)
With yesterday’s wind having gone I spent the afternoon in
the garden painting fence panels. I got four and a half done before the blister
I’d generated burst and it was too painful to carry on. I pootled a little in
the garden. Not-so-nice-next-door was in her garden. I thought about
mentioning her broken fence, but bearing in mind she always pretends to ignore
me I just shook it and loudly told the dogs not to go through the wreckage.
Talking of fences I wonder if I should chivvy the fence
man. He had a socially distanced look at my fence on Saturday but hasn’t given
me a quote yet.
I distracted Fudge whilst "er indoors TM"
took Treacle and Pogo up the park. When she brought them back I had the job of
bathing Treacle; the foul creature had rolled in something disgusting.
Did I ever mention I never wanted dogs?
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