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8 August 2023 (Tuesday) - Before the Night Shift

I put a load of washing in to scrub then made toast and looked into a rather dull internet. There wasn’t much happening so I got the dog flea treatment stuff from the cupboard… and all three dogs disappeared. All three managed to hide. Fudge never minded the flea treatment – it doesn’t hurt – just a drop of jollop on the back of the neck, but Treacle hates it and she’s taught the puppies to fear it. What could have been done in seconds took an age as each dog needed to be hunted down and cornered.
 
With flea treatments done we went up to the woods. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the England women’s football team who had played a game last night in which one of the team had (so it was claimed) deliberately stamped on one of the opposition. All sorts of reasons and excuses were being given because she got excited in a football match. Football, eh? If this had been in the high street we’d be talking about a prison sentence.
We got to the woods and set off on a longer walk than yesterday. As we walked we met other dogs, and mostly the encounters passed off without incident. Mostly.
There was some idiot fat woman with a huge dog on a lead. It was quite apparent that this woman wasn’t strong enough to hold the dog on the lead. The puppies ran up to say “hello”; I called them away. This could have been the end of it, but this woman followed us and wouldn’t give us any space. The puppies would go back to her dog; I would call them away. After a while she made some pointed sarcastic comment about Bailey’s size. In her world there is something admirable about having a dog which is far too big for you to be able to control. I didn’t rise to her bait. Eventually we shook her off.
 
Once home I hung out a load of washing then fiddled about as I set about coffee and cake. First of all a phone call to the vets. Having now pulled six ticks from Treacle this year (she’s never had any before) they are sorting out anti-tick collars for us to collect tomorrow.
I then emailed Hastings council and British Gas about the last outstanding issues on Dad’s estate, then wrote up some CPD.
 
I took myself off to bed, and woke three hours later to find Bailey curled up with me. It would seem she *can* jump onto the bed if she wants to.
 
Hopefully “er indoors TM will boil up some dinner soon, and then it’s the night shift for me…
The last time I had a night shift I had a serious sulk about it. Not so much this time. Probably because I resent a mid-week night shift less than a weekend one.
I still resent it though…
 

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