Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Day 173 in Exile

I hate ticks with the fury of 1000 suns!  One climbed aboard the kelb's fetid carcass last night and attempted to take up residence in his armpit, which just about caused the shrew to have a siezure!  Since then we have both had to endure her picking through our coats like some kind of demented baboon lady!  The hairy infidel removed the offending passenger with a little hook, while the shrew leapt about the living room as if she had a flea infestation.  Flailing her arms around like a demonic Morris dancer.

This morning we arrived home from our walk just in time for the post. She was absolutely delighted to discover that a herbal infusion she ordered yesterday had arrived.  I was horrified, as she then proceeded to throw me into the shower cubicle where I was shampooed to within an inch of my life, closely followed by the kelb.  We then endured yet another inspection carried out by madam Baboon!  I am now absolutely raging as my coat has all poofed out and I look like a bloody Border Collie!  Damn you ticks, damn you to hell!

Thursday, 22 March 2012

Day 167 in Exile

This morning we went out in the hideous car again, it was a lovely sunny day for a change and we were all thoroughly enjoying a pleasant bimble in the sun.  It all took a turn for the worse for the shrew though.  About half way round the walk she went off the path and into the trees, she appeared to have got caught short.  Clearly she did not trust us to wait on the path for her and we were dragged along with her to witness this horror.  She squatted down in the trees with the kelb looking gormlessly into her eyes, just inches from her face.  I tried to pretend it wasn't happening at all!

The kelb suddenly went from staring gormlessly into the shrew's eyes to looking quizzical and then alert, the shrew's eyes widened as he lunged towards her knocking her over and ran into the trees, his eyes firmly fixed on the prize of a retreating squirrel.  She was forced to let go of his lead before she risked having her shoulder dislocated as he plunged into the trees.  The shrew in a crumpled heap attempted to hang onto me as I had become interested in what the kelb was doing, while she attmepted to get up and wriggle back into her trousers all the while bellowing like a cow in labour that she was actually going to kill us this time!

She finally managed to get herself upright and respectable and she shouted the kelb, who finally emerged from the trees hopping as his front paw had become trapped in his head collar.  He looked very sheepish as the shrew freed his paw, whilst berating him for running off.  She spent the next 20 minutes stomping along the road in a rage, muttering to herself and constantly questioning what exaclty she had done to deserve such dogs.  I imagine she was bitterly regretting guzzling that flask of coffee on route this morning instead of back at the car, where she would have been just a ten minute drive from a bathroom!  She was  not very forthcoming with the sausages for the rest of the walk and seemed a little ticked off that the kelb and I remained on high alert for any other possible sightings of squirrels, bobbing and weaving our way along the path as she stumbled along behind us tutting loudly.

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Day 166 in Exile - Porridge, SERIOUSLY!

The shrew tried to poison me this morning with a hideous offering of porridge.  A Scottish concoction I can only describe as a repulsive gruel of lukewarm gloop!  She might as well have poured milk onto some sawdust!  She attempted to make the putrid offering more appealing by adding in a small amount of honey to trick me into finding it more palatable.  I can assure you that no amount of effort would have made that sad offering more palatable and I am horrified that she expected to eat it.  I had one mouhtful, which stuck to the roof of my mouth and made me gag, before snorting my objection, turning tail and fleeing the scene before she force fed it to me!  Of course the kelb not only finished his but made a valiant effort and downed mine too.  No wonder he is so stout!  He came bounding into the living room with that gormless look on his face and breathed his foul milky breath in my face, before rolling round the room like a lumbering, grotesque spider.

That mouthful of food was then supposed to fuel me on a trudge round the shrew's favourite spot, to which we were transported in her hideous little car.  I spent much of the day in a state of malnutrition and was forced to make off with (and gobble up like a common kelb) her cheese sandwhich at lunchtime while she was boiling the kettle.  She spent much of the afternoon giving me the stink eye and telling me what a greedy little dog I am!  I have been on the brink of starvation all day!  She served up a bowl of lambs kidneys and chicken this evening and didn't even bother to cut up the kidney for me, so I was forced to eat them whole and I am not sure I appreciated the texture in the slightest.  I may be forced to regurgitate one later to teach the shrew a lesson in what is acceptable food for one of my status.  She better not ever offer me porridge again!