Jul 132015

I thought I had life sussed out, and got Them more or less where I wanted Them, but it appears there is more work to be done.

Friday started well, albeit a touch delayed compared to normal. Despite that, I got my pre-breakfast walk, breakfast, fuss, and the bonus of Him apparently staying home for the day. Things really looked up when I got a Proper Long Walk mid-morning, even if it was so hot I had to be taken through the river twice and be given a drink break part-way round.

Then it all went downhill …

First He bundled all my food into a bag.

Then He collected up all my toys into my toy box.

Then He loaded them into the car. Along with my bed.

This is not normal behaviour. I started to worry about Him, particularly about His mental health. He’s not stable at the best of times, perhaps the heat of the walk had done some serious damage?

Next thing I’m bundled into the car too; and then … we’re at The Old One’s house.

Woo! In fact, not just Woo! but Hop!. Yes! Woo-frickin-hop! We love The Old One. She thinks she’s all stern and in charge but actually she is soft as shbutter. And she has a house of the appropriate size. A house where I can lie down without having to move every time someone gets up. And a decent garden. A garden where I can tear about the place at full speed without smashing into fences, bushes, trees or other pointless and annoying obstacles. Yippee-kii-aye m(That’s enough Gibson, you’re not watching those films again. Ed.)

So, anyway, good times. Best. Day. Ever. I ran in so fast I dug furrows in the carpet, left skid marks on the lino (paw-based, before you worry), charged about the garden and gave everyone a super big grin.

Then He left.

And He didn’t come back.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love The Old One. She really is great. But. Well. I have People for a reason, and I’m not wildly impressed when They vanish.

Friday evening I decided my only course of action was to sit on the back door step and attempt a ritual summoning. The preparatory whimpers were promising, but I obviously failed to pitch the full-throated howl quite right, as despite repeated incantations They did not reappear. And so to a lonely bed.

::-::    ::-::

Saturday dawned, and I resolved to make the best of things. I gave The Old One some good waggy tail and thigh-butting action. Walks appeared limited, so I attended to the necessities in the garden and hunkered down for a long day. I fear I may have given offence mid-morning, as The Dog Photographer turned up. Normally I’m very happy to see him, but I decided discretion was the better part, and hid behind The Old One until he left. I’m now given to understand he came to take me on a super big fun walk, at no considerable inconvenience to himself, but nobody thought to tell me that, so what was I supposed to do? Sorry Del, I’ll make a point to cover you in extra slobber next time by way of apology.

The rest of the day passed with moderate pleasantness. A bit of a groom, some chasing around the garden, a lot of sleeping. As evening drew on I once again attempted the ritual summoning. The forces of darkness were strong, however, and eventually I retired to conserve my strength.

::–::     ::–::

By Sunday I’m coming to the conclusion that this is it. I’ve been pensioned off to The Old One for some reason. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be reward or punishment. I still love her to bits, but I think I’d like to have been consulted. I scatter a few toys about, just to see if I can trip her up. The Old One thinks this is cute, but I’m playing a long game. Maybe if she falls and gets hurt she’ll summon Them. Her ritual summoning often seems more effective than mine. It’s harsh, but you know what they say about desperate times.

Regardless, The Old One proves sufficiently nimble to avoid my subtle traps, so I go back to playing with the new toys she has bought for me, tearing round the garden some more.

As evening approaches I start to gather my strength for a final push on the ritual summoning. However, before I even complete the inner preparations and mantras I hear a key in the lock and They are back! I am now unsure whether I was simply too impatient, not realising the distance and time my howls had to travel to be heard, or whether I took the wrong approach and should have concentrated more on the inner mental summoning, rather than using the moon as a conduit. Either way, it matters not, for They are back and I am shortly on my way back home!

::–::     ::–::

(Editor’s note: lest Gibson should appear in any way ungrateful, he actually had a very nice time away and was extremely well cared for. Even if he was a bit of a weed (apologies Del, for your wasted time) and suffered from some People-based monomania he still enjoyed an awful lot more play, fuss and attention than he would have got at home, the big silly. Mostly he’s being a drama queen and angling for sympathy)



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