Roses and occasional soggy hags
This week Dear Reader, Dude has not been living his best life.
As regular readers know Dude is my dog. He is also known as 'Oh for fuck sake'' 'stop doing that you idiot' 'nob' and various other mildly irritated appellations.
Dude has several aims in life, none of which require much thought. His first and foremost requirement is to be by my side where ever I go immaterial of whether I think that is a great plan or not.
I go to the loo, he must be there checking that I am ok, if I shut the door he howls quite pathetically.
I do too when I’m allowed to stay at your house. It must be your charisma and animal magnetism that we both pine for.
I put the recycling in the garage, Dude needs must accompany me to ensure that I get the 5 steps there and back in a safe and protected manner.
And horror of horrors if I try and get into Gertie without him a doggy based tantrum of quite epic proportions ensues.
His second need is several million squeaky toys, in assorted shapes and sizes preferably with a very loud squeak that he can delightedly chomp on whenever I am having a phone conversation or video meeting thus letting everyone concerned know that he is there and not really very suited at the fact that he is not central to my attention.
The final requirement is a daily walk. He isn't fussy about duration or venue but he does like to get out to sniff his 'weemails'.
My favourite of all Pip’s jokes.
However, his conundrum when it comes to walks is that he hates 'weather'.
Shame he lives in the UK then as we have a lot of weather.
The recent snow did nothing for his internal happiness. We set off for a walk - it was beautiful, all crisp snow, with those wonderful bright blue clear skies that you get when snow is on the ground and my ridiculous dog walking through it like a gekko on a hot wall.
Have you ever seen one of those videos of dogs walking in shoes or boots - seriously that's what he was like....lifting one foot up at a time - staring at it then putting it back down very gingerly...our normal 45 minute walk took what felt like days!
Eddie, on the other hand loves snow. He bounds about like an over excited puppy, which is exactly what he is. His next best love is the sand in bunkers, preferably ones that have just been very careful raked by a groundsperson.
Rain is another no go walking weather - especially the torrential stuff that we have enjoyed recently - I have to admit I am with Dude on this discomfort with wet rainy rain, the sort of rain that completely soaks you within seconds of being out in it.
As opposed to that dry rainy rain that you get.
So back to Dude’s not very good week.
This week it has bucketed with rain every single day - we have dashed out in the breaks between torrential downpours but we haven't gone far and its nasty and muddy (Dude doesn't really like getting muddy paws either.)
Is he actually a real dog?
This morning however when we hopped out of bed, it was reasonably dry,
'Right come on Dude, walk time' I trilled excitedly to him, as I put my dog walking foot apparel on.
Dude having a somewhat blinkered view on life (i.e. Treat Ball Walk and repeat) and realising that I had 'the boots' on proceeded to get extremely excited, dashing around the house like a complete twat knocking things (including me) over whilst whining......
We made it out of the house. Eventually.
Its a really misty morning and the heaviness gives the world a Sunday morning quiet.
After a chat - yes, I’m loosing it - Dude opts for the lake route for the walk.
I am very lucky that in the lovely big park behind my house there is a huge lake with wildlife stuff hanging out on it.
And weirdos sitting in tents waiting for fish that never come.
Eerie and mysterious
The mist was hanging over the whole park, obscuring the view across the lake - it was quite eerie, sort of 'Arthurian' legend like..
Any moment now I thought to myself as I squelched through the mud, a soggy crone is going to rise out of the lake clutching a sword of some sort....
Exactly the sort of thing you’d expect in the East Midlands.
I don't buy into the beautiful Lady of the Lake rising elegantly from the deep with Excalibur raised aloft type scenario, she wouldn't be beautiful, she would be wrinkly and dripping with weed and a bit smelly - lakes are a bit smelly - and the mud is positively stinking...Excalibur wouldn't be all golden and shiny it would be rusted beyond recognition and there would probably be a duck sitting on it....
Spot the lady of the lake
I do realise that this isn't a particularly romantic vision.
But then I'm not a particularly romantic person...
My lovely friend - still on his quest to win back the hand of his ex fair lady - No further forward, but he thanks everyone for the enquiries- was asking my opinion about Valentines day and his plan to send his lady love 60 red roses, a card the size of the Taj Mahal, filled with beautiful lover like words and phrases, and as the piece de resistance - cooking her lunch...(she is still thinking about the lunch option, denotes a lack of excitement about it which I think less positive than it could be...)
I am without doubt the least competent person with whom to discuss things of this sort...the thought of someone sending me 60 red roses does not make my heart beat faster, would not cause me to fall, lover like into someone's arms, nor even cause my knickers to suddenly fly off...
My first comment when he told me about it was (I believe)
'Are you fucking mad! How much will that lot cost?' in tones of horror.
I would be appalled if someone spent that amount on roses for me! I would rather have Amphyctionis filled up!
Could this be why I am single?
Do ya think? Seriously? I really don't know?