She thinks it's good for me, to hang out with other hounds, and generally just be a dog for a while. you are supposed to check our ego in at the door. Nobody cares about my celebrity status there.
I milk it on her return i do my best "i didn't think you were every coming back for me" face. You know the sort of thing.
Full of remorse for having left me, we go to Mr Ferrai's for a slap up tea and a run around the garden.
What she doesn't know, is that the borstal is just up the road from Hambleton Hall. I slip the kennel maid £50, check myself into 5 star luxury, bolt across the fields when i see her approach and nobody is any the wiser.
That is why i know i had absolutely nothing to do with the cat that went missing from the kennels. Nothing at all. No siree, wasn't me.
Dear Mr. Hound, I recently found your blog and I just simply love it. You are very talented, handsome and articulate. I know you don't like kitties and I have to admit that I have a big fluffy guy in my house who is also very handsome. I hope this doesn't cause you to not like me ;-).
ReplyDeleteClaud
Nika Says, Did you make the whimper, whimper, sob, sob, noise that let her know how very long an absence it really was? Even if she only went out to water the garden?
ReplyDeleteI understand I'm to be left at my aunt's next month for a weekend...what's a borstal,is it better?
I don't have much spending money so a hotel doesn't seem likely.
xo The Lab