Monday, 19 November 2007

A relaxing weekend in the country....

....made slightly less relaxing by the presence of my two dogs. Remember Charlie? Cute eh? "Teeny, tiny, dinky minky, cuchee cuchee geddoff my sock you little rascal...awwwwwww...booboobooboo he's shoooooooo schweeetttt"

Yeah well, he's big now. 5 months old and growing by the day. See? Cutey-wooty pup has turned into a monster, attacking everything he found on our beautiful warm, sandy English beach by the North Sea*.

*Aka, stony, blustery, generally bloody cold beach.

We arrived at the boyfriend's house on Friday night, where we were to babysit his slightly mental cat and my dogs while his and my parents were away. Knackered, we watched TV and went to bed, but not before making sure the dawgs were happily snoozing in the conservatory. Charlie looked tired and sleepy, and in the glint of the moonlight the outline of a halo could be seen hovering at a jaunty angle above his head. Awww.

Then all too soon it was morning and I was woken at half 7 by a sound that was easily recognisable as "Bored Dog". For non dog owners not familiar with the sound of Bored Dog, it can most aptly be described as the heels of your favourite shoes rasping against teeth, or perhaps a flower pot full of mud clattering across the kitchen floor; maybe the softer sound of a cardboard box filled with cereal getting scattered all over the carpet. It varies. Well trained in recognition of such sounds, I jumped up and hot-footed it downstairs to let the dogs out into the garden. Wagging tails greeted me and I sighed relief as the kitchen seemed to be clear of debris. Out they went into the garden. It was then that I saw the strip of green plastic bag on the floor near the entrance to the conservatory. Uh-ohhhh.

At first, the only thing I saw was the torn up plastic bag, no big damage yet. Then what looked like bits of straw. No, hang on...not straw...definitely one of those woven mats you put hot things on. Balls. He's chewed up a mat. Then, whats that? That's my coat...and my converse...intact, phew. Bits of foam mingled in with the plastic...he's kindly dismantled the inside of a cushion. Eek, let's hope it didn't have a cover on it in the first place. And then...oh no. Oh you little scamp...you haven't. A face appears round the entrance of the conservatory: "I bloody have!" says it's expression, and there on the floor lies what was once a pair of glasses. Lenses in bits on the floor. Red, thick rimmed frames, once chic and fashionable looking, now not so much as the arms lie separate from the rims; the frames themselves squashed into Dame Edna style obscurity... Shit.

Later on that day, we went into the local town to attempt to track down some replacements but this time, putting the dogs, tired from their walk, in the downstairs bathroom where everything was placed high up and out of reach from dog-chops. We returned 2 hours later with a bottle of red wine to replace the glasses (well...close enough) and let the dogs out. No damage done, phew. Back down to the beach with the dogs and Charlie keeps being sick. On returning to the house, I inspect the bathroom and find that the wicker box that I've piled everything on in fact houses the cat's litter tray, and Charlie has had a tasting sesh of it's crystallised contents. Meanwhile the cat, not being able to get to it's litter tray, has wondered up to boyfriend's parents room and left a few nuggets of brown surprise on the white bed cover.

The next day before we head back to London, the remains of the glasses are left on the kitchen table along with a photo of the culprit, and a note scribbled on the back to the tune of 'Sorry, I got hungry and ate your glasses: Have a bottle of wine. Love Charlie XXXX'. I think I can see some wings beginning to sprout from his back to accompany the halo.

Disclaimer: Don't worry, Jo is not turning into a 'Ooh Look What Highly (Un)Amusing Thing My Dog / Cat / Budgie / Rabbit / Other Non-Descript Pet Did Today (with pics)' blogger. Normal service as a 'Look What This Complete Tit on the Tube Did (with pics)' blogger will resume tomorrow.

3 comments:

Perpetual said...

Kasey will sit there with here ears drooped down low when she has done something wrong, but then immediately uses her 'look at my cute dog eyes' look to ensure she doesn't get into trouble.

I never really liked the sofa that she chewed, or that table, or the chair to be honest. I think she realised that and decided to help out my decision making to change everything.

pink jellybaby said...

Haha that's funny!

Steph said...

Why must cats always shat on beds???

 

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