
Do we own a dog?
Or does the dog own us?
Answers please on a postcard...
I can’t make up my mind. The ‘cocktail’ that is Murphy is
glued to my leg at the moment, very affectionate but worryingly obedient. What’s
going on?
We - that is the wife and I - are off on holiday this weekend (without the canine
smoothie), he is going to stay with my youngest and his wife at Bolsover Borstal
for Laidback Dogs. They assure me they will ‘instill some manners into him.’
Murphy can sense something is going on, but has no idea what. So I think he is
hedging his bets with me and being very obedient.
Disaster struck last night! My chariot of fire has lost its spark. The buggy is
dead! I am waiting for the buggy equivalent of the RAC to come to my rescue. I’m
not a fan of being stationary. She ‘who must be obeyed’ had to take
Murphy for his walkies - and has twice been asked why. Fantastic - dog nappers
beware, the local mafia rules OK.
I sat in my chair this week and arranged for a buggy to be waiting for me when
we get to Spain, the power of plastic eh?
I braved the cold this week and tormented a few trout, I don’t think they
will miss me. Tomorrow I’m helping to collect at a supermarket, becoming
one of those annoying sods with a collecting tin. Our M.S. Therapy Centre relies
on the collections. So citizens of Sheffield - please get your hands in your pockets
and not just to keep warm.
There are snow flurries at the moment, they really shut the birds up, nothing
singing, the only sound is the wind, and there’s plenty of that. I heard
some radio this week, the disc jockey was playing music from the top ten. It was
chronic, I wonder what the bottom 10 sounds like, it’s frightening.
The buggy repairman has arrived and taken my chariot for some TLC.
The media tell us that we should eat more fruit and veg, etc., what’s the
phrase - 5-a-day?
So trying to adhere to this, I took carrot sticks and celery for my lunch down
by the ponds. I met a wizened old boy smoking with a bar of chocolate in his hand,
serious violation of the healthy diet. In conversation I asked his age, 92 he
proudly replied. I said he would do himself harm with his unhealthy life-style
- fags and chocolate - he looked at my carrot and celery and said ‘You’re
dead already’
Makes you think.
See ya
Buggy Man