The Owner Has Been in The River

I have kept very quiet this week so far. It is for the best.

At the weekend The Owner and I went to see Owner's Dad and Diesel Dog Daughter. We set off early but we went a different way to normal. He seemed to know where we were going so I settled down for a kip in the back of the car. After a little while I opened one eye and noticed we were at a place called Warmonster, I think. At least that is what The Owner has been calling it ever since and then laughing very loudly, so it could very easily be one of his jokes I suspect. 

Well, when we got to Warmonster we pulled up outside this house and The Owner jumped out with great bonhomie and general good humour towards Young Lady Hoomun. I was evicted from my comfy corner in the back and The Owner started throwing great big concrete slabs in the back of the car. Well, he got five in and then stopped for a breather and I couldn't help but notice that his previous bonhomie was waning a little. Another five slabs and it had waned altogether and there were little beads of perspiration over his brow, so he closed the back door of the car and told his new found hoomun friend that he would return for the rest later. 

We hadn't been gone very far before there was a huge bang at the back of the car, dried mud seemed to fall off the car and everything lurched to a precarious standstill. The Owner was looking a bit peekie at this point as he fumbled around trying to make a call on a recalcitrant mobile phone. The phone was having none of it and we finished up in a phone box. Now we have a phone box in the village, but ours is full of books and I am forbidden from going in there, so this was all a bit new for me. I am forming the opinion that phone box doors are there only to try and cut you in half when you are least expecting it. 

The Owner's day appeared to be getting worse but fortunately none of it was my fault and indeed I was enjoying the role of pacifier and confidante as he ruffled my ears whilst he tried to work out what to do next. He said to me "We need to get these slabs off, Jack." Helloooo! Where is the 'we' suddenly arriving from in this scenario?? Then, inspiration struck, which unsurprisingly involved a pub! No more than 20 empty Bonio boxes laid end to end along the road and there just happened to be a pub, so he drove the car to the pub and went inside. He told the landlady hoomun, with a look so pitiful on his face that even I nearly felt sorry for him, that he really needed help and could he leave these slabs in her car park. So whilst I sat on the The Owners seat and watched, he unloaded all the slabs and the car looked a great deal better for it. 

It was a warm and sunny day and through the pub garden ran a clear bright stream with tables and chairs dotted around the grass on either side of it and I was not at all disappointed when The Owner noticed and said "Come on Jack, I think we deserve a pint!" By 'we' he meant 'he', or at least 'he' would be getting the pint and I would be allowed to sit and watch, but it was a nice day and I was enjoying the time not being in trouble. We sat there watching the ducks on the little river, the sun was warm on my face and The Owner found someone new to talk to who was blonde and female (need I say more), so he was feeling a little better about earlier troubles. After half an hour of pleasantness all round The Owner got up off the grass beside the river where we had been sitting, and bid the lady hoomun a good day saying "We need to get the car back home now." Had I mentioned that I was on a lead? Well I was, I was on my best pub lead, which is a bit longer than my normal lead and the excitement of being back on our way again was perhaps a bit too much. I jumped up quick and bounced around a lot, I went once around The Owner and his new lady hoomun friend and made for the car at great pace. This was the part where the day took a downward turn to be honest. I felt a bit of a tug on the end of the lead and when I turned around I could see that The Owner and his new Lady Hoomun Friend were a lot closer together than they appeared to want to be.....with my lead wrapped around their feet.... which seemed to have caused them both to topple into the stream. Lady Hoomun seemed a little displeased, to the point where I must conclude she is not really normal, as she doesn't seem to enjoy jumping in rivers. The Owner emerged from the depths of the river with long strips of river weed draped around his shoulders like a super hero's cape and a face like thunder. I got the distinct feeling that all the K9/Hoomun bonding that had gone on earlier was evaporating quickly and his mornings troubles were all somehow my fault. So, as I said earlier, it was best I kept a low profile before the Crimean crisis somehow became my fault too.