Life in north east England (yes, we've moved!) with an eccentric Welshman and a small white dog that thinks he's a Rottweiler.
The 'B' word
Every few weeks, I overhear conversations between Jenny and Keith about 'going to Bristol' which means that Jenny is going to visit her dad. A few days later, other things happen. Jenny does the shopping and keeps telling Keith that he has plenty of food while she is away, so there is no need to get fish and chips or sweet and sour chicken and fried rice. When she says that, he looks a bit sad, so I suppose he likes them but then he gets a twinkle in his eye, which makes me think he fully intends getting them anyway.
Then I see Jenny getting a black bag from under the bed in the spare room and filling it with clothes and other things; which reminds me, why on earth do humans wear so many clothes anyway? A collar and lead does me every time...
Finally, after a lot of going backwards and forwards to the car, Jenny is ready to go.
That's when I know that, for a few nights, I will be getting extra biscuits and I shall get to sleep on the bed and, if I'm lucky, which is none too certain after the pig-chasing fiasco, I might even get to go to work with Keith in the van.
Well, it all goes to ease the pain of separation...!
See ya Sunday!
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2 comments:
Oh mummy! Pwease dunt go to Bwistol! Lots of nasty fings appen in Bwistol! Me sawed it on that boxy fing. And and and Daddy Keith him nasty of me sumtimes. Slap me snout wid newspaper and not walkies me like you duz mummy!
I am NOT your MOTHER, Dawg!!
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