The good news is that Shadow’s scan is booked for Thursday 27th August at 11am. The bad news is that our Mistress booked a blood test for me for this Thursday. You would think that the vet had seen enough of my blood over the years and wouldn’t want anymore, but regrettably that is not the case. Our Mistress says it is for my own good, because of being on the painkiller on a long term basis, but clearly she is using a different definition of good to the one I had in mind.
Our Master made me laugh. We were all sitting down having dinner, well they were having dinner and we were begging, when he said that much of the time he can work out what Shadow or I are thinking, but he has absolutely no idea how Aristotle’s mind works. Thankfully much of the time our Mistress seems to have some idea what he’s thinking, which helps her to stay one step ahead of his behaviour. I think it’s safe to say that the rest of the time he’s plotting his next escapade.
Yesterday was a day of mental torture and cruelty. Our Mistress had a piece of pork cooking for hours. Do you have any idea how hard it is to concentrate on sleeping when there are the most wonderful meaty smells drifting from the kitchen for hours on end? Ok, so we got some when it was finally cooked, but I must have expended way more energy than that bit replaced in drooling while thinking about the prospect. To be fair, our Mistress said it probably made her want to snack more through the afternoon too, so it may not be a good idea to cook it too often. Ari was more focused on whether he could safely use the oven gloves in his paws to take the meat out of the oven and try some. I said as there were already holes where our Master set fire to them a while ago it might be a bit risky.
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