Paws for thought

They promised me a rest day today, but they've been scuttling round like a couple of ferrets.

Mum and I went out for my constitutional a tad later than normal. On the way this big black dog came charging upon us. "Is it a dog?" says mum. "Yes" came the answer. "Is it entire?" , "Yes" came the reply. The big black dog is now becoming very persistent. "She's in season" says mum. Response "oh well. That'll make his day. He's only a youngster, he won't know what to do" !!!! After some encouragement from mum (not all of it polite, I'm afraid to say) the big black dog was brought under control, my honour is intact, and mum's nice clean trousers are back in the wash.

Then they went for breakfast. Four tables were occupied, one by an elderly gentleman who asked the waitress if we could have the TV on. The rest of them all 'silently' groaned. By the end of breakfast, he was reading his book and all the rest of them were watching TV - such is life.

After breakfast, first job was to clean up after all the mud running we've been doing this week. Dad asked the hotel for a bucket, and mum went off to get a nail brush. The hotel didn't have a bucket (can you believe), but managed to find us an empty plant pot (no holes in the bottom dear Liza!), which did the job just as well. Mum went to the chemist for the nailbrush - "no, sorry, we don't sell them anymore, there's no demand"!?!? Then she went to the supermarket "no sorry, we only sell them in a pack of 3" who wants 3 nail brushes all at once for goodness sake?! So she finished up cleaning my harness and coat, and their boots and gaiters with a sawn-off toothbrush that she had brought to use as a nailbrush (you might well ask - simple answer - space and weight).

Having reinvented the wheel and decided that it wasn't worth camping just for one night this side of home, they thought it would be a good idea to go through all their bags and get rid of some excess. I gathered all my Burns and gravy bones together and lay on them. In the meantime they had some heated discussions about the efficacy of keeping various effects. When they eventually agreed, they had 25 minutes left to get it all together, packaged and down to the post office. They packed up one of the boxes Auntie Jo brought, sealed it with the gaffer tape dad had wrapped round his walking pole before we left home (clever, my dad) and off they went. The lovely lady in the post office was very interested in what we were doing,  and we explained that we were sending excess home. As she was applying the stamps to the parcel, she said "and where do you live?"

Back in the room, and it was time for us all to choose our horse in the Grand National. We all put our pocket money in the pot and we put each way bets on 3 horses that didn't win. The moral of the story is....choose better horses.

Ah well

Keep spreading the word

M
xx