Bailey
seemed a little out of sorts when I let her and Morgan out of their crate this
morning. She didn't seem to want to go outside, but not going outside first
thing every morning isn't an option for small dogs. As I carried her out I
thought she felt rather bloated. Her stomach gave the most almighty rumble and
she vomited a pile of semi-digested dog turd onto the kitchen floor.
I
mention this in case any of my loyal readers are ever tempted to get a dog
after reading other instalments of this drivel. Never let it be said that I
don't tell dog life as it is... Bailey is a sweet little thing, but she can be
rather foul.
Once
we'd been outside there was a minor delay as I cleared up... hard floor tiles
and no carpet is *such* a bonus.
I
made some brekkie and watched more "Stranger Things"... I know
it's a TV show and make-believe, but if you were on the run from a clandestine
government laboratory, you'd actually run from it, wouldn't you? You wouldn't
set up a little camp a stone's throw away and stay close for a week or so,
would you?
Forgetting
to pick up lunch I set off up the (clear)
motorway to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about
the Prime Minister. She's been in office for one month. She's done one thing (and
one thing only). It turned out to be an unmitigated disaster for which she
did exactly what any right-minded person would do; she looked for a stooge to
take the blame... and that was the end for Kwasi Kwarteng.
Yesterday
the new Chancellor Jeremy Hunt announced to the House of Commons that he was
scrapping all of her policies, and she sat next to him (with a face like a
slapped arse), taking it without a word. Love 'em or loathe 'em, Boris or
Maggie wouldn't have stood for that, would they?
Ms
Truss has been in the job for a month and there is already talk of her
replacement. She's looking set to be the shortest serving Prime Minister on
record and will probably beat the record of one hundred and nineteen days set by George Canning when
he dropped dead in 1827.
Mind
you if she does get the heave-ho who will they replace her with? None of the
candidates who stood against her only a few months ago are being mentioned; are
they now all spent forces?
The
leader of the Dribbling Democraps (whoever it is these days) was wheeled
on to the radio, and he wouldn't shut up about how the Prime Minister should call
a general election. Like that's ever
going to happen with the Labour
party thirty-six points ahead in the polls.
I
got to work and got my priorities right; I filled out some leave application
forms then got on with that which I couldn't avoid. But (as always) an
early start made for an early finish. I came home, loaded up the dogs, and with
only an hour or so of daylight left took them to Orlestone for a walk.
There
was a near-miss as we walked out of the car park. As we’d got out of the car I
could hear voices so I didn’t let the dogs run. Just as well – the couple with the
utterly-out-of-control dog the size of a cart horse were standing (with said
dog) twenty yards along the path presumably waiting for other dogs for
their dog to kick off at. I dragged my three past as their dog as it glared at
them. Perhaps they were just trying to get the dog used to others? Why not ask –
we’d happily walk with them.
Fifty
yards later my phone beeped. A message ostensibly from one of the fruits of my
loin. I can understand how people fall for these scams. Most people wouldn’t
hesitate to phone right back if a child is in trouble. But if either of the fruits
of my loin needed me in an emergency they would phone, not send a message.
Needless
to say, the message was a scam.
But
the walk was mostly good, if muddy. Morgan stayed close for much of the walk,
but did run amok somewhat toward the end. He’s funny. He’s quite a gannet-ous dog
in the house, but when outside he’d far rather run amok that come to get a
treat. He understands whistle training, but only comes to the whistle when it
suits him.
Wonder
what’s for dinner…
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