The New Flower Bed

I am in the boot room, I thought it safest. The Owner went off early this morning, without me as you ask, and when he returned he smelled of breakfast. I thought I should ignore it and just turn my back on him.. until he produced a box of Bonios so I forgave him immediately. But after Volvo Hoomun had left we wandered home. Even as we entered through the gate he had a worrying look in his eye as his gaze settled upon the garden refuse wheelie bin, emptied yesterday. After he had selected several garden tools that Small Boy had not abandoned around the garden last summer he wandered off with his wheelie bin and I felt sure many of the flower beds breathed a sigh of relief as he passed. At the back of the side lawn there is what he refers to as a flower bed but I suspect to the rest of the world it is a patch of untamed nettles. This was the first sign that the rest of my day was taking a downward turn. Well, I prefer a little seclusion when I.... well... perform. So this patch of untamed tall grass and nettles had the products of my many "performances" in various stages of dehydration and decay. The liberation of each former dollop brought fresh looks of disapproval from His Ownershipness. But I have to say it was worth putting up with the disapproving looks to see the freshly tilled soil appearing behind where he was working. When the rain shower dampened things for a while he went inside and made a pot of tea and we had ten minutes bonding sat in the porch on the seat whilst he slurped loudly at his tea and I chomped equally loudly on a Bonio that The Owner had in his pocket for me. Rain stopped and tea finished we went back outside and this was the bit where it went downhill a little. Well, quite a lot actually. The Owner was busy terrorising a worm he had found and I suddenly noticed the after effects of having had a Bonio. Well, when it goes in one end it has to appear again somewhere doesn't it? So out of habit it appeared again in the nettle patch, only it wasn't a nettle patch any more but a freshly tilled and weed free flower bed. The same flower bed that The Owner was now crawling around on his hands and knees putting bedding plants in. Well if he hadn't been crawling backwards he would have seen where he was going wouldn't he? And if he had been watching where he was going he probably wouldn't have put his knee in my own fresh efforts would he? The pattern it made on his knee could have been an entirely new form of divination I thought. But when I looked, the omens were not very good for me! Something reinforced by the roar of disapproval emanating from The Owner, so I thought it best to retire to the boot room for the night.