I have triumphed.
Prolonged good behaviour - including walking to heel; collapsing dramatically to the floor when they pretend to shoot me; and wearing a ridiculous blue snood without attempting to tear it off, meant that I avoided the dreaded kennels and got to go on holiday.
And where did we go in the worst summer in living memory? Scotland.
On a positive note there were no midgies. They had all drowned or died of hypothermia.
We drove through the night to get to the beautiful Isle of Arran. Well until the starter motor seized on the Landy and we had to be towed by an articulated lorry.
Sadly, we were followed by Hurricane Katya, which meant we were trapped there for some considerable time because the ferries were cancelled. Of course, I don’t mind 70 mile an hour winds and torrential rain, so I had a pretty good time with lots of walks, football and swimming in the sea, mostly accompanied by a cheerful Beard, whose mantra was: “why let a bit of water spoil your holiday?”
All in all I had a fantastic time. The only downside was when Weird (who has poor eye-leg coordination) kicked my football into the sea and it was lost. To be fair, I think the layers of clothing and balaclava restricted her movements.
So... we’re back home and B and I are on our own this week because W had to go and do some work in Cyprus. We took her to the airport, shared a Ginsters breakfast bar on the way back and went for a game of football. Then I settled down in the special out-of-bounds chair while B watched the rugby.
Life is good.
|I must NEVER sit in this char|