At least the weather is back to pretending to be summer. It’s a shame that the leaves don’t suddenly go back to being green and reattach themselves to the trees to complete the picture. The biggest problem is, as usual, the moles! ‘Here a mole hill, there a mole hill, everywhere there’s a mole hill.’ I ran out of fingers and toes to count them all on, even when I did borrow my mistress’s as well as my own.
I got my mistress up early this morning, which didn’t go down very well. It is the first time in two years that I have needed her to let me out to go to the toilet before she was ready to get up, and it was 8am. It wasn’t as though it was the middle of the night. To be fair I also had a bit of a funny tummy and as she had had one too I can only conclude it was her cooking. At least I asked to be let out, she ought to be grateful. A less considerate dog wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.
Last night was funny. She had told me she was going out, so I made myself at home and snuggled into the duvet. I presumed I would have plenty of time to get everything straight again for when she came home. Just my luck to find she wanted to be home in time to watch the rugby world cup semi-final. I was out like a light, when at 8.55 she cam through the front door and ran straight upstairs to watch the rugby in bed. Well there I was already very comfortable. I was caught red-pawed, so to speak. I was soon forgiven and we cuddled up in the duvet together.