Peace in our time

The long man, now that he is back in the company of the clippy cloppy woman, seems to have gotten over his needy, clingy, pain in the backside phase. On Sunday the two of them took me to the clicky ankled lady's house and left me there while they went off riding their Vespa all around Manchester with a load of their friends. The clicky ankled lady didn't exactly seem enamoured by our arrival at what I heard described as "daft o'clock in the morning". Apparently Sundays are her special days when she stays in bed watching her soaps. Once they had left however I laid on a bit of my old charm and she soon seemed to warm toward me. She made me a nice cup of tea with a biscuit. I do like a nice cup of tea, especially when it comes with a biscuit. Two biscuits would've been nicer though.

The lady that lives with the mumbly man came visiting a little later whilst the clicky ankled lady and I were chillaxing in front of the fire. She has hair the same colour as mine and a funny voice that sounds a little like she's singing when she talks. Now I'm not the kind of puppy dog to turn down a nice walk along the canal so when the goldy singing lady offered to take me I jumped at the chance. Quite literally. We went and got Audrey and the shouty woman too, and off we went.

The canal is very interesting, full of things to sniff and chew, lots of bushes to run through and a multitude of quacky things paddling around to bark at. It really does have it all when it comes to walking venues. After a good while we arrived at one of those pub thingies where the people that can't walk straight go when they're thirsty. We had been there for about ten minutes when, far in the distance, both myself and Audrey heard the unmistakable sound of thirty Vespas approaching. I think the shouty woman and the goldy singing lady need to clean their ears out because they didn't hear it. They didn't even smell the blue smoke five minutes later and were only aware of the long man, clippy cloppy woman and all their ne'er do well associates arrival when they came popp-popp-popping into the car park. The long man was very excited when he saw me there, and bought me my very own packet of crisps.

Later on, when the three of us had arrived back home (Oh I do like the sound of that, "home".) the long man took me for a wander around the neighbourhood. Because of my period in exile there were so many Pmail messages to sniff, it took us ages to get back. Almost immediately upon our return both he and the clippy cloppy woman buggered off out, leaving me all on my little lonesome. Peace at last. About bloody time. Fantastic. The radio tuned to my favourite station, a bowl of food to munch on, a bone to pick at, a pigs ear to crunch away on, and my lovely new bed to lounge about on. They were gone for hours, and I was sound asleep when they returned, bringing the little people with them. The little people weren't in a particularly playful mood though, they could hardly keep their eyes open bless them.