The weekend has arrived at last with the usual whirl of social activities. Mother had been planning a ‘quiet weekend at home’, but as she is unable to turn down the offer of an activity that once more has not transpired.
We were invaded by a flotilla of balloons just before 5.00am this morning. I believe them to be breeding somewhere beyond the horizon. They were floating rather majestically, I thought, in the still morning air. It was a peaceful sight until the silence was shattered by ‘you know who’, howling at them to go away and leave us in peace.
Mother came rushing out into the garden screaming at Bella to ‘shut up’, an instruction that the quivering Doodle Dog chose to ignore. With all the racket a stranger happening upon the scene could have been forgiven for thinking the alien invasion was upon us.
Bella continued running hysterically around the garden in spite of Mother’s efforts to stop her. I could see many pictures being taken by the occupants of the balloons. I wonder how many mantle shelves in Asia will be sporting a picture of Bella above them soon.
Mother has started off well with her early morning run programme. According to Barney it passed off without incident. He claimed to have quite enjoyed the outing. He feels himself to have been elevated in the pecking order. I soon dispelled this idea and told him pride always comes before a fall.
Mother went off to visit the Doodle cousins in the afternoon and returned with the offer of a play date in the coming week. Bella was not too happy about this as Sid has rather fallen from favour in recent weeks. She feels that he does not treat her with the respect she deserves given her somewhat advanced age. I must admit he is young and somewhat foolish a lot of the time. I shall have to remind him of his place when next I see him.
Barney was in oodles of trouble on Sunday. After our early morning stroll he had managed to jump the fence into our neighbours garden and thus onto the banks of the canal. This in itself was a crime of mammoth proportions.
Unfortunately, he then decided to try and catch the sting rays that were peacefully basking in the morning sun on our boat ramp. They were not at all pleased at being disturbed and reacted in a most unpleasant manner. He made a hasty retreat and was found cowering by the gate pleading to be let back in to the safety of our garden.
‘Serves you right’ said Mother, who had witnessed the whole incident from the upper balcony. He has been somewhat dejected since then and has spent the afternoon trying to catch flies instead.
Supper time looms, adieu until tomorrow….
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