Gosh, what a weekend. Friday, Mummy dropped me off with the grandparents, 'cos she's off to a werg weekend somewhere. She's quite fond of these, though it sounds a bit sinister to me. I mean, isn't that like wargs from the Hobbit?
They were nasty great wolves, I think, not what we want to meet at agility, thank you very much.
So I've been looking after Granny and Grandpa again, hard work, and a bit dull, frankly. Did the routine hourly checks the first night, go up to Grandpa, lick him awake, make sure he's breathing, but couldn't be bothered last night, just too much grief. I was out of my skull with boredom by six this am, so went through and jumped on their bed. Don't know what all the fuss was about, I mean I've lost weight, I'm down to 35 kilos, so where's the problem?
Anyway, around seven Grandpa finally got the message and took me out for a mooch about, then we all got back into bed and had a nice doze until around half nine, when Grandpa insisted on getting up. Tried to hold him back by lying on his arm, but no use, it was back to the grind. I mean what's wrong with midday as a time to get up? The greyhound bit of me needs 18 hours sleep a day, I keep telling them, but no, we've got to go and get the paper or folk out there reading the blog get upset, seemingly.
Lynx, can I come and live in your house? It sounds loads better than here, with proper food – I saw your Mummy recommending an ox heart for me, that's more like it. I just get this pellet stuff, 'cos I've still got to lose weight. And you get to go the vet much more than me, always good for a laugh in my experience.
Only joking, I couldn't leave my Mummy, but it's a nice thought to play with whilst dozing in front of the Squirrel (that's the stove, not the rat with a fluffy tail that cops out by running up a tree when you chase it).
Granny took me for my afternoon walk today, all the way to somewhere called Tixall Wide, she said. It was OK, but nowhere to run off the lead, and a snotty little terrier gave me some lip as we passed a load of scruffy old boats. Soon told him where to get off, oh yes. I mean, his head, my mouth, crunch, all quiet again. Didn't actually do it, Granny was hauling away on the choke lead, but could have, could have, and he knew it.
Oh, and someone asked if I was an Iberian Hound. What?
I mean, ears, yes, jumping, yes, weighs 25 kilos, I don't think so. Lie down lady, I'll jump on you, and we'll see if you think I'm 25 kilos.
Mum points out that all greyhound crosses are technically lurchers. Now that sounds cool; I wanna be a lurcher, OK?
Loads of licks and sausages where available,
Your friend
Sally
6 comments:
hi what wrgie camp did you go to ??
Sally's mum (ie Elanor) went to the London wrg weekend at Inglesham. We're just waiting for her return now.
Yo Sally, you can come and visit anytime you like - maybe if our boat meets up with grandad's boat this summer you can do a raid on the fridge wif us - is good fun.
Lynx, nb Indigo Dream
Hi Sally,
What you've got to realise is that your Grandpa is old and not in good condition. He just can't keep up with a youngster like you. He needs his sleep (we won't use the phrase beauty sleep 'cos it defo isn't appropriate) and lots of it. He didn't get his nickname of Victor Meldrew for nothing you know.
Your Mum is quite right, lurchers are sight hound crosses and are lovely dogs, even if we say so ourselves (Don't tell Victor but we think our master is lovely too, so much livelier than Victor)
Licks and sniffs,
Paddy (greyhound cross) and Lola (whippet cross).
hi did you see martin at the camp
we meet him at nob end over the xmas camp where we meet i alot of other nobs lol have you read navvies this month
No Colin, I wan't at the camp, Elanor was at the camp, yes I believe Martin was there.
Cheers
Bruce
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