"Things I might find a need for"!

What a strange world we live in and as much as I try I cannot get my little canine head around its workings and your approach to what you guys call the seasons of the year.

First there’s the ever changing day light versus night time ratio. You’re just getting use to long lazy days and then suddenly without warning of any kind you lose an hour from your day and so the body clock goes out the window. What’s with you guys, can’t you make your minds up? The up side is for one day a year I am let out into the garden an hour earlier for my morning constitution. If only you bipods knew how hard it is for us quadrupeds to hold our bladders for 8 hours, it’s such a long time every night, why can’t you people be more understanding and let us “out” when you get up from your bed two or three times in the middle of the night to do your “business”? What would it take to just pop to the kitchen, once you wash your hands, unlock the back door and let us poor mites out for a quick wee and a bit of a sniff around outside?

Then you have the gall to move your clocks forward by one hour six months later, once again without any warning whatsoever. This usually results in a little mishap or two on our part and you guys end up walking into “it” barefooted. If you had only let us out the last time you got up for that little tinkle none of the afore mentioned “little accidents” would have raised its ugly little head.

There is no need to panic right now as the next clock change is not until Saturday PM/Sunday AM 28th March when the clocks go forward. I am merely highlighting the issue in good time so everyone with a loving pet understands what to do at the allotted time and save both parties a whole bunch of embarrassments and a wet foot or two, with or without socks. Why He insists on wearing those silly things called socks in bed is beyond me! And another thing does He have to keep them on for a whole week?....... The smell!

Eight days earlier on Saturday 20th March is the start of spring and am I in for some fun? I think not! He is looking at gardening periodicals for a shed; the only good point in Him getting a shed is the space I will have returned to me in the corner of the kitchen next to the back door, currently full of old dirty boots, battery powered hedge trimmers, sprit level plus a cardboard box full to the brim with “things I might find a need for once my shed is built” so He keeps saying and like don’t we all believe that old story! It’s cool there in the summer when everyone else in the home and garden is sweltering hot. Just the right amount of cool shade and breeze wafting its way through the gaps in the doorway!

I have no more time today to talk about Him and his exploits in the garden, but it look like a spring to relish, I have spotted various “berry” saplings/cuttings propped up against the wall on the decking in the corner just under the Bay tree. What would He do without the garden section of Morrison’s? He spares no expense at £1.50 a time... reckless child.

Ready for change.

Salvador

Vain attempt to retrieve !

Is it me or do all humans tend to leave a mess once they have finished cooking? He is, I am unfailingly informed a very if not wonderful cook with the ability to summon up from nowhere a gastronomic cuisine fit for the best in the land while using the simplest of ingredients.

That aside it’s no excuse for what is best described as a home unfit for any self respecting bacteria wishing to set up home for him and his family. Does He not know that age old mantra “clean as you go?” Sadly the old fart fails to understand it is best to tidy up after each session in the kitchen and if not able to do so, how about first thing the following morning and not when you’ve run out of every clean utensil in the home. He has been seen rummaging at the sink making even more mess in a vain attempt to retrieve a lost used spoon only to end up inflicting pain and getting blood everywhere having just found a un washed razor sharp peeling knife. I have no compassion or comfort for the pickled onion of a bipod. Servers Him right.

“The tree may have been shaken, but sadly no fruit has fallen”, is the best I can say! Having piled high every useful pot, pan, knife, fork and spoon found at the back of the draw, used then dumped. He then wastes every Sunday morning from prior The Archers (Broadcasting House Radio 4) to way passed and beyond Desert Island Disc. Not too happy with Kirsty Young, Bring back Sue Lawley all is forgiven!

The food He produces’ is wonderful, in fact His curries as I have stated before in not so many words are to die for. I love that tingly feeling I get after a bowl of beef Madras and basmati rice...Lovely stuff !

Well as you can see from the date above I am a day late in posting this blog for this I am heartily sorry. I can only point the paw at my lord and Master for my delay. He had been due to be away all yesterday afternoon but his meeting was deferred to a later date and so I had a moaning balding flat footed old bipod pottering around the stately home doing nothing. It would have gone down well for Him to just go out somewhere for the afternoon if only to give me some space combined with peace and quiet. No such luck and by the end of the day he failed to attack the content for the kitchen sink..... Messy man !

Living in hope

Salvador

Miraculous Reincarnation

There are times as I wonder through this world if there is such a thing as a doggie god, for if there was I would be praying for my Masters mental health..... He has thrown all His toys out of the pram. Not for any good reason in particular, just for the lack of a phone, make that three phone’s. How many of these strange contraptions does’ one bipod need?

It transpires while “up north” on a visit last Friday He left number one phone behind and is now waiting for it to arrive by post sometime after the weekend, hopefully Monday. “No problem” I hear Him say, “I can use my Blackberry”.... so with all calls diverted to said fruit, life I hear you say can move on. Alas no, you see for some strange reason that phone too decided to pack in, all due to a silly thing he called a 128 bit encryption issue, whatever that means? Basically it was BANJACKSED!

By now he was getting terribly uppity, stomping and had He had any hair that would have been pulled out by it’s roots and to top it all it was only mid day Saturday!

They say that if things are to go wrong they tend to do so in “threes” and yes you got it in one, the local cable company’s service decided to shut down for some local repair work. Here He was, the last life line to the His outer word was now dead, life was just not worth living!
“Telephones! Telephones! Telephones! Everywhere and not a ring could be heard,” to paraphrase an old saying.

I have never seen or had to tolerate such a display of animated language in all my years, not even from him. It must have been his “barrow boy days” rising to the fore. Oh how I wish I could have covered my sensitive ears, after all they were designed to sense the more refined and pleasurable sounds life has to offer to such a humble creature as yours truly.

Alexander Graham Bell could be blamed for inventing the telephone but I don’t feel he is at fault.... that honour could be laid at the steps of the world renowned Massachusetts Institute of Technology (M.I.T.) for their work on discovering the transistor, albeit by accident while testing diodes. But I feel the trouble maker has to be one Kansas undertaker by the name of Almon Strowger who having nothing better to do with his days off, invent the first telecom switch (step by step) thus rendering mass unemployment on hundreds, if not thousands of telephone exchange operators throughout the modern world. End of history lesson!

Thankfully Monday arrived and one by one each phone in turn sprang into life followed by the miraculous reincarnation of His lordship back to His normal state, for want of a better word.

Keep connected

Salvador

Modicum of fitness.

I have, in the past commented on my Masters appearance, make that a somewhat lack of the afore mentioned remark. What am I harping on about I hear you ask? He is back on His bike, says’ it’s to help Him Keep fit, surely that term employs that one must already have a modicum of fitness in order for one to “keep fit! ”

Dressed in blue shorts with His name stitched on the sides, so He tells everybody, “Reebok Classic?” strange name for a human! I thought He was called Patrick, but who am I to question another species, especially as they the paragon of the intelligentsia, ALLERGEDLY!

First and foremost there is the bike, now correct me if I am wrong on this one, please! But last time I looked a bicycle is a wheeled contraption, two in total unless my memory fails.... one in the front and the other at the rear! This malogen has none, zero, nil of the requisite practical items. For the past 12 months it has been fixed to his bedroom floor and till now collecting layer upon layer of household dust.

If your mind is at all strong enough, image a pot belly on sparrow like legs with what one can only describe as sad trainers lashed to His feet to help keep some sort of balance. Now if you will reel in horror while my Master fights with gravity to mount His butt onto the saddle. Give up man! He haven’t even started to “cycle” and already pooped with sweat flowing from every square centimetre for what passes for a head. Bald old fart! Once mounted, it’s funny in a cruel sort of way watching as He struggles to fit flat feet into those straps on the two peddles.

“Time is moving on old man, I have a life to live!” Readers, there are dead slug’s that move faster than He does. Whilst peddling on the lowest settings He has installed a television on the dresser top to keep Him distracted as time moves on. I don’t think John Logie Baird was thinking of our lovely Paddy sparrow legs prancing about in Muswell Hill’s Ally Pally in a vain hope to get fit.

There’s no saving Him, He is beyond redemption!

Keep fit, stay fit.

Savaldor