Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Oh, B....

Stupid dog and it's stupid ball.

Grab the ball, throw it down the hall. Plonks it on my lap. Throw the ball, plonks it on my lap.

Some time later. Throw the.... right, you ball-o-holic, that's it, no, you're not having it. No. No. Shut it, no.

Next second, half a ton of mad woofler slams into my chest, knocking pens, papers, cups keyboard and me for six. I staggered up, hauled myself into my chair, and sat dazed amongst the chaos.

I'm sure the chuff was laughing. Looks at me with big brown eyes, lifts his paw. Drops the ball on my lap.... Bonkers....

Balls? I'll give him Balls. Bear sticks her head around the kitchen door "What's the racket? Who's made this mess? And why are you shouting 'Vets!' at poor Sigma?"

Thinking of which. "Dray?" Yes dearest "Y'know that Duck I got cheap from Asda?" Yes dear? "Well, It's defrosted" Cool. "Very funny. Not. I'm trying to clean it."

Uhuh? "I've got it in a bowl of water. Every time I push it down into the water, the damn thing pops back up again"

See what I have to put up with? No wonder I'm grey.

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