Decisions decisions
Oh, decisions decisions. Do I go with Dad to the Kenilworth Agricultural Show to keep an eye on him, or stay at home to take care of Mum? Mum would really like to be going too, but she’s overdone things on her poorly leg and says she couldn’t manage the length of time they would be at the show. That’s all very well, but if I stay here to take care of her, which if course is my job, who is going to keep Dad in check? The spending opportunities will be bad enough, but the worst part is that I only have to let him out of my sight for five minutes and he’s fussing another dog! Can you believe it. He even made friends with one in the garden centre they went to yesterday. Which, fyi, I could have gone to but was not invited!
Missing our old village
Mum and Dad went to the jubilee celebrations in our village, just for an hour, yesterday. Mum said it was very strange. They felt so on the outside of everything and Mum kept thinking of all the friends they were missing where we used to live. I’m finding it strange too. Where we used to live were mainly working dogs. I know where I am with other working dogs, we often see things in much the same way. Where we live now most of the dogs are some cross with a poodle. Oh, they look very cute and they are easier to pick up. The problem is they lack that manic streak that sets a working dog apart.
I tend to make people jump when I bark too. Round here most of the dogs have these friendly little yaps which really make me seem a little unrefined and raucous. Mum says I’m in good company and she often feels much the same way!
Love
Wilma