Saturday, 21 March 2015

Dog to dog blog: a weird day

I'm a very weary dog, so don't expect too much from me today. But I had to tell the world just how seriously, seriously, seriously weird today has been.

We got up dead early for a Saturday and drove over to the marina, which was promising but all that happened was that we collected Grandpa, drove him to Shobnall and went back home. Then, we walked to Dallow Lane lock and hung about for ages, until Grandpa turned up on his boat.

Worked him down, but did we get on board? Oh no, we had a walk back to Horninglow — at least I got some rummaging time on the towpath. When the boat was under the bridge, Mum tried to make me get on it even though it was still moving! I wasn't having any of that and resisted to the utmost although I was finally cajoled on board.

Grandpa wasn't any too pleased at the delay— something to do with a CanalTime coming the other way.

So now there's just two humans and me on board. Grandpa is steering, Mum is loafing about so I have to do all the looking out, both ends, both sides. I'm back and forth like a spaniel with two ideas in its head at once. Into the bow, look out all round, through the boat, push past Mum and Grandpa, onto the stern, look down one side, look down the other, then repeat all the way to Willington.

I'm with Mum in the bow as we get ready to turn into the marina, but oh no, here comes a hireboat leaving, so we end up on the towpath right near the copse for playing rompers.

Not that I got to get off, naturally. We sit there whilst another two boats leave before Grandpa performs a load of evolutions (whatever they are) to get back out into the middle and make the turn. Good job the wind was blowing in the right direction for once and helped us round.

Loads more faffing about before we're settled on the pontoon.

Follows a break for lunch on the lodge veranda and a conversation with Jo and Wynne. Then back to the boat to watch Grandpa putting things away in the deep bow locker. He needs a witness these days ever since he got stuck upside down in it trying to do it on his own.

You might think that was enough weirdness for one day, but oh no. We go and wait at a bus stop, would you believe and then actually get on the bus... Mum sits on a funny tippy up seat and I sit beside her looking smug until the bus sets off.

What a scary bus! Noise, shakes, bouncing around. I freaked out, frankly, had to lie down on the floor and push myself under Mum's seat. I was shaking harder than the bus if that's possible.

It all stops when we get to Burton, but we don't get off, we just sit there until the whole thing starts up all over again, so back under the seat for me. Amazingly, we finally arrive at our street and get back to the house.

I made a point of walking up to the car and staring meaningfully at it. Cars are the best dog transport, not boats or buses kindly note for future reference!

Right, I'm going to bed and staying there until dinner time.

Loads of licks

Your friend


1 comment:

Jo said...

A "conversation" Sally?? It was a bit of a shouty one (on your part) - until we came actually onto the verandah and you decided we were welcome guests!