The Owner has been working from home again today. When it started getting cold the doors were closed and then the windows. Then the heater came out. I find the energy required to "Work from Home" leaves me quite exhausted. I think I have fallen in love with the heater! Is that so wrong?
I appear to be in trouble! It is a little chillier than of late this evening so whilst The Owner was upstairs I explored my options at keeping warm. I have to say so far it was a pleasant experience. However when The Owner returned downstairs I got the distinct vibe that all was not meeting with his approval. What I am not understanding here is why it is ok for him to lounge around under a blanket or two looking like a heap of crumpled ironing when it clearly is not for me?
The Owner is being very grumpy today. With me since you ask. He is working from home and for once he is actually working from home. So he sets himself up with MY laptop on the back of the settee that I am allowed on with his phone and other bitys all to hand. You'd think from the fuss he is making that he hadn't got enough room to work! I mean... how much more room does he want??? I may have to have an opinion on the matter if he doesn't stop being so grumpy soon!
In the end I relented and let him stretch out across the sofa, then I climbed back on top of his legs. I found it less than comfortable to be honest but I stuck with it. Now he is hobbling around the cottage, from room to room, complaining about having stiff knees and legs. Helllllooooooo, if he hadn't sat awkwardly it wouldn't be a problem! But of course it is my fault as usual!
It has been a strange day in The Owner's world today! With spring appearing to be finally with us he spent yesterday rummaging around at the back of the shed removing dead leaves, cobwebs, two mouses nests, Small Boys bike and the remains of a dead pheasant from something which he was determined to call a lawn mower. Liberated from the shed detritus that had surrounded it throughout the winter it emerged into the sunshine of a spring afternoon in a decidedly uncooperative mood which in my experience can be counter-productive. In my experience it is always more peaceful to go along with whatever scheme The Owner has embarked upon. Eventually, after much tinkering he hit upon the genius idea of putting fuel in the tank and with a roar, several giddy spiders emerged from various hiding places about the mower and The Owners face was a picture of triumph.
Up the garden by the barbecue is a random collection of grass clippings that The Owner always refers to as the compost heap, but this year he has got a new green wheelie bin for Council Hoomun to come and take away the clippings and so presumably the compost heap will eventually fade away and be forgotten. With great enthusiasm The Owner started to charge around the garden with his lawn mower and putting all the clippings in his new wheelie bin. Early in the winter I had a new toy, like a green tennis ball with a piece of rope on it, but I lost it months ago. The Owner was attacking a particularly dense bit of undergrowth when suddenly his lawn mower started vibrating badly and jumping around in a very excited fashion. Well at least I now know where my toy went, in fact I now have two bits of it to play with, so that was good then! After half the lawns were cut the wheelie bin appeared to be quite full from where I was standing. So The Owner went and got his small steps and clambered up and climbed into the top of the wheelie bin. I remember thinking at the time "That won't end well"! And I was right! After only a small amount of jumping around in the top of it the grass seemed to disappear from my view but The Owner was clearly intent on greater things until it all fell over! The Owner fell under the bush that I wee on outside the front door (which didn't seem to please him particularly) and all the grass that had been in the wheelie bin was now on the garden path. I took the opportunity of a snooze in a soft bed of grass clippings whilst The Owner regained his composure and sought something else to blame for the situation. I am thinking that the whole laying in the grass clippings thing was not my best move as it drew some attention to myself, which made the bin falling over my fault. So I wee'd on the grass clippings and left him to it. I may look out later and see how he is getting on, but in the meantime there is no reason why I can't make use of the sofa for an hour or two, he won't be needing it.
It is a bright and sunny day here today and the birds are a-singing and the cows are a-mooing and The Owner has a sense of mischief about him which is predictably at my expense. On my third patrol of the morning I took The Owner with me. Big mistake! I have a favourite stone which I like to carry around with me so The Owner made me sit and then made me give it to him. Good-oh! I thought we are going to have a bonding session as he throws the stone and then I bring it back. Oh how we laughed as he dropped it in the cow trough! There are one or two unpleasant things lurking at the bottom of that trough and I was not about to let them get my stone! At least I got his clean trousers a little more "lived in".
The evening is showing grate promise!
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?!?!?
