Don’t panic
Don’t panic – who’s she kidding. If the smoke alarm goes off right above my head, of course I’m going to panic. It’s all very well her telling me she has everything under control, but her toast was definitely not under control and neither was the smoke coming out of the toaster. Ok, so she unplugged it and opened a window and eventually restored order, but I’m putting in an application for a transfer to a room that does not involve my Mistress cooking anything, even toast.
I suppose that would be slightly counter-productive, as I do enjoy the food remnants that are made available to me. I just don’t like toast getting stuck in the toaster at the same time she has gone outside to put the bins out. There should be rules about what she can do in my room. Nothing should happen here which could be considered in any way detrimental to my health and well being. Mind you, arguably that could include my Mistress doing any cooking!
Shadow
I’ve reached a bit of a realisation in my senior years, I quite like Shadow. She has aged well and mellowed quite a lot and we have some very companionable times outside in the garden together. We both amble around the garden rather than needing to run madly. Oh we both break into a trot every now and again, mainly when there are biscuits on offer, but otherwise we have reached a more sedate stage. I still feel an overwhelming instinct to protect her, which is bizarre as more often than not it was Shadow I needed protecting from. Now, I might even go as far as saying I like having her around and she brightens my days. Except of course when she won’t stop barking and then she drives us all nuts.
For the record, my bark has not come back even now. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve lost it forever.
Love
Alfie
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