Service with a smile again

Today I spent yet more hours going through my accreditation application with a fine tooth combe prior to printing it out. If I get anything wrong or provide insufficient evidence, it will be 'deferred' and I will have to pay another £70 to resubmit it. In true Sod's Law fashion, the printer was playing up yesterday and a frantic phone call was necessary to order more toner, which arrived this morning - much to Keith's relief, as he wasn't looking forward to more stressing from me.
So off I went to the post office with a 39 page application plus two copies (117 sheets in all), to post it by recorded delivery.
"Is it worth less than £30?" enquired the man behind the desk.
"Well, a lot of blood, sweat and tears have gone into it," I replied with a smile.
"But is it worth less than £30?" he asked again, without a smile.
I wondered if it was the fact that North Wales is not going to be involved in tomorrow's postal strike that had put him in such a bad mood.
Anyway, watch this space, because it will only take the powers that be until the end of November to decide on my application...

Night-time fun

Aha! Thought that title might attract some attention. Now for the disappointment. It's all about Paddy and it really wasn't fun at all, for him, for us or for the unfortunate object of his attention.
The bedtime routine is that I send Paddy out into the back garden to do what he needs to do before settling down for the night and usually, this works fine - except when he becomes aware that the garden is host to night wildlife, some of which he almost certainly has never encountered before. I can only assume that this is the reason why I went out to investigate a sudden bout of frantic barking to find him poised over a hedgehog, doing what hedgehogs do best and curling himself up into a nose-destroying ball. Being Paddy, of course, he just had to test that out for himself, for no way in the world was he going to give up and walk away.
Hence I had to drag him forcibly back into the house while I turned my attention to the poor hedgehog, who was not so poor actually, as he seemed quite happy curled up, patiently waiting for the mad dog to go away and leave him in peace.
It seems that Keith has a lot more sympathy and compassion for hedgehogs than he does for cats (he's very much with Paddy on that one), and he scooped up this little fellow in the dustpan so that I could take him down to the little lane nearby and release him into comparative safety. Because Keith likes hedgehogs, he made it very clear to Paddy that he had been way out of order, an offence compounded by the fact that, in all the excitement, he had torn the lining under the pebbles, so painstakingly laid by your truly some weeks ago and the poor dog was sent to bed in absolute disgrace, nursing his sore nose.
But he still crept onto the bed in the early hours, as he always does. A dog's memory is short!

Away from home again

Another few days in Bristol for me and Keith and Paddy are left to look after themselves. So, naturally, Keith looks in the fridge, decides there is nothing there to take his fancy, in spite of the fact that I did the weekly shop on Wednesday, and off he goes to the local Chinese for a sweet and sour chicken take-away. Great for the diet!
"Oh, Chinese food isn't fattening, you know," says Dad, "it's just that they give you a lot of it."
(Why is it that men always feel the need to gang up on us?)
That was yesterday.
Today I get a plaintive cry that the pizza I left for him in the fridge should really have been left in the freezer because, when he took it out, he found that it was 'rubbery'. In vain do I try to convince him that I have stored pizzas in the fridge many times before and they've been fine; this time, it isn't.
I can only presume that the pizza is in its current inedible condition because I am away from home.
No, I didn't think it was very logical either. Oh well, he must be missing me!

Flying high

Keith was sent this little gem the other day, so I am passing it on for your delectation and enjoyment. Enjoy!

Accreditation part deux

The Proposer's form is done and so is the Supervisor's. I have written about 5000 words on some of the sections, so now all I have to do is provide a record of my last month's counselling sessions, with brief details of the focus of each and provide a breakdown of my courses according to the hours devoted to professional, personal development, theory and skills in each.
Not a lot more to do then... (wipes sweat off brow)
Mustn't forget the £210 cheque too!

End of the visit

And we're missing him already!

Jake's visit

Giles' dog Jake has been visiting this week. He's the posh one, the Bichon Frise, although he looks rather like a mophead at the moment, hence my new name for him.

He arrived last Thursday and it was then that we discovered that Paddy is gay. It may have been the two hours he spent pursuing Jake in a considerably gay fashion that gave the game away. Maybe he had an abusive puppyhood but he didn't seem to realise that playing did not automatically have to be sexual in nature. However, Jake has been fighting his corner and Paddy is learning - gradually.

Other than that, they get on fine. Problems arise when it's time for a walk. Taking the two of them together is not easy on the nerves. Paddy pulls frantically on the lead if there is a cat within a two mile radius and Jake is just frantic because he's ecstatic at the idea of going for a walk (it doesn't happen at home) and follows a route which inevitably criss-crosses continually under my feet.

So, walks had to be taken separately. Taking Jake first seemed a good idea. He only has little legs and doesn't need to go far. The problem there is that, during our absence, Paddy hurls himself inconsolably at the window and whines continually until we return. So, we bite the bullet. I take them both round the block and Jake then stays at home quite contentedly while I take Paddy for his marathon.

But I can't say I'll be sorry when it's just Paddy again.