I Am "The Fragrant One" Again!

This morning on patrol I have been kept on a lead which hasn't gone down well as a matter of fact. I was kept well away from the pond too! Somehow hoomuns just know what you are planning and I would love to understand how. This morning, being Sunday, The Owner made his morning tea and after a quick rant at the news on the telly, (just to start the day off right) he retrieved his paper from the front porch where Old Reg the Paper Boy had thrown it. He does this in case I may have been prowling the gardens when he arrived apparently. The Owner then made himself a coffee and read his paper for a while. Then when he had finished his coffee he picked up his paper and his glasses and disappeared up to the bathroom for his Sunday bath. 

All was quiet up there apart from the occasional splash of bath water and the rustle of his newspaper as he turned the pages. Then I heard The Owner call me.... why do I fall for this every time? Up the stairs I trundle and immediately notice his bedroom door is closed and so is Small Boys, but the bathroom door was open. Now you're in front of me here aren't you? I was not so quick, sadly. The Owner whisked me off my feet and deposited me in the bath!!!!! Again!!!! I mean, it was only last summer that I had one. I am not due for another yet! I'll give him bloody Head & Shoulders! The ignominious and humiliating act performed, amid many references to being the fragrant one, (like that was going to make me feel better) I was released from the prison torture chamber known only as "The Bathroom". That was when it dawned on me why the bedroom doors were closed! Deprived of my first line of revenge I made my way rather rapidly down the stairs and found a suitable alternative. I jumped on to the settee and sat down, (after a few shakes along the way). Had I mentioned that I had sat on his freshly delivered Sunday paper on the settee? I don't think he will be reading much more of that today! My plan was to get in the village pond to get a good coating of pondweed and other less perfumed substances was scuppered by being kept on the lead whilst on patrol. Anything to rid myself of the smell of shampoo! I am contenting myself at the moment with dropping vast quantities of hair everywhere whilst The Owner complains bitterly and threatens me with the ruddy Dyson. Well hello? It wasn't me that jumped in the bath was it?!?!?

 I am going to accessorise The Owners jacket with a few hairs ready for his meeting tomorrow.