Thursday, 3 December 2009

Sickly sweet and cheesy feet

My assault on the long man and the clippy cloppy womans bed has commenced! This morning, when the clinky tinkly noises from the man that brings the white water that the little people drink woke me, and it was still dark, I began stage one of operation shift-up-people-I-want-this-bed. (Not the catchiest operation name I'll admit but I think, descriptively, I've nailed it.) Ever so quietly I slipped my head beneath the covers near the long mans feet, which, incidentally, smell lovely and taste of cheese, before wriggling and crawling up towards the other end. You could've sliced through the tension with one of those things the people use to put that yellow stuff on their bread. I froze and held my breath everytime the clippy cloppy woman, who is an annoyingly light and restless sleeper, moved, mumbled or made that snorty noise. My nerves were well and truly wracked by the time I approached my ultimate destination. As I neared my goal I began to get more and more excited, until, after what seemed like an age, my head popped out from underneath the covers right near the long mans chin. Before I knew it my tail had involuntarily started to wag, hitting him in the chest. He stirred and opened his eyes, I thought the game was up, but no, to my surprise he smiled, said "good girl" and pulled me close. Ooooh he was sooooo warm, it was like being back in the pile of my siblings when I was at the rescue centre and before I knew it I was asleep again, dreaming of big, bright and tasty chewy things that floated all around me, and for some odd reason a black plastic bag. Go figure.
At some point later I felt the clippy cloppy woman begin to stir, and before I knew it she'd flung her arm across the long mans body, her hand coming to rest on my tummy. I was mortified, convinced all my hard work tunneling under the covers had been wasted and I was soon to be returned to the floor, but no! She simply said "whats this?", the long man laughed and said "sorry baby" (Oh they're so sickly sweet sometimes.), she made a tutty noise and all was quiet again. Result! I'm beginning to think the long man, for all his shouty, sweary bravado, is probably the weak link in my enemies defences. I shall exploit that fact and, mark my words, before long, in the battle of the bed, I SHALL BE VICTORIOUS.

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Spinning beds and poorly heads

The long man is very excited at the moment. Yesterday he got his "pride and joy" back, a funny metal thing called a "Vespa". It's very noisy, very smoky, very smelly, and to cap it all since it returned to take up residence in MY back yard he's spent most of his time rubbing it with stuff and making it all shiny. I do hope the novelty wears off soon.

Went for a lovely long walk this afternoon, once I'd managed to drag him away from my main rival for his affections for long enough. We went to the shops. It took quite some time what with strangers bothering us every ten paces, and not very bright strangers either, ooohing and ahhhing like demented morons, but we eventually made it there and back. Oh and speaking of morons, I'm sure he thinks I'm one too! Whenever I take him out he stops at every road and says "wait Ronnie wait", and then tells me when it's safe to cross over. The cheek of it. As if I'm not capable of assertaining when its safe to cross a bloody road. I mean come on, how much brain power does it take to know not to step in front of one of those big, metal, smelly things? I swear he'll be reminding me to breathe next.

Later on the long man left his drink on the floor while he went to pee in the bowl upstairs that I drink from at night. (Not sure if that particular practice is the most hygenic but I'll let it slide for now since I do have a habit of peeing where he keeps his shoes.) Anyway, I digress. Since he was gone I thought I'd finish the drink off, it's apparently called "whine" which I've always thought an odd name. Now, however, I can see where that comes from! My goodness I was poorly, I whined like a baby. The room went all wonky and things kept spinning around me. I thought I'd best go to bed but the bed wouldn't stay still long enough. At one point I thought to myself "When that bed comes around again I'm on it" but by George it was going so fast I completely missed and banged my chin on the chair leg. Cue more whining from yours truly. Eventually I found it was easier to crawl on my belly and sneak up on it. Result. Never drinking that stuff again.

Sunday, 29 November 2009

Road trips rock

This newfound freedom, albeit somewhat restricted by having the long man tied to my neck, isn't, as I'd initially believed, such a bad thing. I've been out several times today, and one of those trips was to a dirty great big pet shop, full of food, treats and big eared, twitchy nosed furry things that were scared to bloody death of me. One of them even poo'd while running away. Mint. I also seem to be rather popular with people other than my own people, which is a bit of an ego boost I must say. We went there in one of those big, noisy, metal box things which aren't nearly as scary when you're on the inside. Lovely and warm with music playing. I got to sit on the long mans lap all the way there and all the way back, though I must say I think they're taking diabolic liberties with my safety. THEY all had long, clicky, strappy things keeping them in their seats, I was slipping and sliding all over the bloody place. Still, I made it home safe and sound so maybe I shouldn't be such a drama queen.

On the way back we went to a "dry few" or something, where some spotty, smiley person passed food in through the window. The clippy cloppy woman shared it out, but I don't think it was very fair that I got two bloody chips while the rest got hot, smelly, meaty things. Rotten cow!

The long man took me out again later, it was dark and rainy and quite exciting really. I stopped at the lamp post on the corner for a good sniff, you know, checking my Pmail. Apparently the Doberman from number thirteen is on her monthlys. Thats not a good combination, Dobermans aren't the most pleasant dogs in the world to start with, but hormonal too? I'm steering well clear. Oh, and the terrier from round the corner has worms.