I haven’t got to sleep on a park bench. More to the point I haven’t got to be the blanket for my mistress sleeping on a park bench. I had a phone call yesterday to say that my mistress has found us a nice house in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure why being in the middle of nowhere is a good thing but my mistress seems to think that it is. She hasn’t signed all the paperwork yet so I suppose something could still go wrong, but as far as she is concerned that is the place we will be calling home for a while. It is a shame I’m not there to give it a good sniff before we move in, I suppose I will just have to trust her. To be honest from the sound of her week I am probably glad that I’m not there, she has driven nearly 2000 kilometres this week, which is more than enough for any dog.
My little car is officially English again all my mistress has to do now is give back the Belgian number plates. She is going to look quite funny coming back on a train carrying a number plate. It’s the end of an era. I think my car may be having an identity crisis. It was originally built in Italy, then it was sent to Germany, they then sold it to England where my mistress bought it. It then had to move to Belgium and has now moved back to England. I wonder if that’s it now, or whether it might like to try another country or two.
My mistress also told me that while I’m away there is someone going to ‘deal with’ the moles. I’m not sure quite what that entails, but I can’t think that from a mole’s point of view ‘being dealt with’ is a good thing.