Tuesday 28 April 2015

MAY 2015

Want to play ball?  No?  Ok, I will play on my own.  I can you know, I can launch it in the air, chase, retrieve and pounce on it all on my own without any help.  I have to do this when the Boss tires of playing and it amuses him to see me amusing myself.  In fact they both, the Mrs and the Boss, stand in amazement watching me when I really get going.  They only call a stop to it when the ball goes over next doors or I get too boisterous - last time this happened I had a little contretemps with the Mrs’ washing and became entangled in the sheets drying on the washing line.  I had lobbed the ball in the air but my aim was a bit off as it went straight into the washing.  I started my search among the linen, knowing it was there somewhere and feeling terribly proud of eventually finding it within the folds.  I then made the fatal error of not only plucking the ball from the volumes of white cotton but also the cotton itself which escaped from its pegs and came with me billowing behind like one of those white geese whilst I bounced around the garden intent on my game.  I mistakenly thought the Mrs was joining in when she started chasing me around the garden but soon realised that not only was it not words of affection she was yelling but that she was trying to retrieve the sheet, not the ball.  It turned out she wasn’t too keen on playing the game after all and relieved me of my burden muttering incomprehensibly to herself -  but magic is not dead in this house – the sheet appeared an hour later on the line again in pristine condition but I could not find my ball anywhere……

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