I didn’t actually go myself, it was one of these ‘no dogs’ things, but my mistress went to a ‘Winter Concert’ and came home and told me all about it. It was one of those occasions where it was easy to tell that the audience wasn’t familiar with one piece of music. There was a quiet bit so everybody started clapping, then the music carried on and everyone had to clap again, a minute or so later, when it really finished.
She has only gone and invited the neighbours for mulled wine and mince pies. When she first said it I thought ‘mulled wine’ was a high pitched howl that you had thought about for a while. I was disappointed to find mince pies are not made from beef mince either. As long as she doesn’t think I am going to don a little waiter’s outfit and go round serving people. I have my pride and whilst I am quite prepared to wear a Santa hat in exchange for the odd mince pie, I draw the line at being a waiter.
Alarmingly, there has been a cat visiting our garden. This is what happens when you go away, someone turns up that doesn’t understand that this is my territory. Well it really was too much. I was sitting at the window whilst my mistress was on the phone and there it was as bold as anything. I wasn’t in a position to rush outside so I had to content myself with whimpering, then growling and finally howling. I had quite forgotten my mistress was trying to talk to someone, she had to apologise to them for the noise I was making. Fortunately they had a dog too so understood. I have my pride and a cat in my garden is not acceptable. It wasn’t even as though it was Matilda from next door who I am at least on acknowledgement terms with. It would be going too far to call us friends, she prefers me not to get that close.