A very unexpected visitor arrived on my doorstep this week. There we were, "we" being that bloke and I, sat minding our own business, sharing the settee and staring at the telly thingy, when we heard that "bing bong bing bong" noise that uncannily always seems to happen just before someone comes to the front door. When that bloke opened the door you won't believe who was standing there, only the bloody CLIPPY CLOPPY WOMAN! I was so excited I did a not-so-little wee right there and then. I sniffed and sniffed and sniffed at her and she smelled just like home, wonderful. She also seemed far more friendly than when last I saw her. Funnily enough I'd been thinking about her earlier that evening as the long man had been pushing the noisy, sucky thing all over the furry things just like she used to do at home. And he'd sprayed the air with smelly stuff just like she used to too. She said that I had calmed down a lot since my forced exodus from Leyland. Not surprising really, since I've had no one to play with properly. Well, I've had Audrey, she's fun until she gets in one of her moods, but other than that I've pretty much had to entertain myself. I think I've got stuck in something of a rut.
The two of them sat together on the settee once he had made some drinks, and a little too close together for my liking! I'm not having her muscling her way back in now, where was she when he was smelling all empty? Not here that's for sure. Not putting up with his moods and sulks. Oh no, It was me, muggins here. And so, as I'm sure you will understand puppy fans, I was not in the least bit happy. I clambered up onto the settee next to the clippy cloppy woman, then scrambled over her shoulders and plonked myself right between them, resting my chin on his shoulder and my fragrant back end on her lap. Far from being impressed with my loyalty, and let us not forget it is loyalty that man in no way deserves, he told me to get down. I was somewhat taken aback I must say and didn't know what to do. Was he serious? Was he joking? Nope, he was bloody serious, and he pushed me onto the floor. Bloody cheek, that man has a brass neck.
The clippy cloppy woman stayed for hours, and that man turned the telly thingy off so not only was I ostracised but I was bloody bored too. I fidgeted, I harrumphed, I whimpered, I even tried flatulence as a tool to get a little attention (I had to stop doing that after the third time since I was in danger of soiling myself) but all to no avail. If he thinks he's going to be in line for any of that patented good Ronnie loving this week he's got another think coming.
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