Sunday, 13 September 2015
The Old Man As A Dog...
So of course I ogle dogs. Part of me is a frustrated dog owner but the other part is the irresponsible flibbertigibbet that can fantasize about owning one... without taking the little critter for a walk or in any way looking after it. My latest passion has been a French Bull dog... and these must be "the thing" cos I saw two more on the beach today.
But it is all academic cos The Old Man be not keen. And the reason is, I do believe, that he be a dog himself. All the signs are there. The rushing to the door when someone knocks... followed by frequent growling and snapping if it is a stranger... and possibly over enthusiastic greeting if it be friend. Frequent requests for walks and an overwhelming interest in food do complete the picture... and the rushing out into the garden when he do spot a cat. So you see... there can be no competition indoors.
We come home. I bake a cake. And we indulge in an Incredible String Band fest.
Old curmudgeons... we try to make life sweeter.