Sunday, 24 February 2013

Fat

This story requires context.

The master and I were joined at the weekend by the mistress. We'd enjoyed our week snacking, playing Skyrim and watching movies. We'd had some exercise at my insistence as I refuse to poop in the cabin when there's a wood just outside.The master was looking a little plump again, like a teddy bear, his big, round belly bulging from eating meals for two himself, justifying it to himself by offering tidbits to me. That counts as sharing, right? If he was a dog toy, I'd want to rip open his stitching and whip out the stuffing until he was thin again. That's how much I love him.

Anyway, the mistress put up with the snacking as she accepted he was on holiday. She was upset however that he'd left dried urine spots on the toilet seat in the en-suite. He'd somehow missed those when he'd been tidying the place prior to her arrival. Maybe next time he should just go in the woods like me.

He remembered this scolding on the Saturday night when they went to bed, the first time he'd been to bed the same day he got up all week. While she was brushing her teeth in the en-suite, he badly needed to pee (instead of just peeing badly). He ignored my 'woods' suggestion and instead used the toilet in the bathroom. He sat down so as to avoid missing but when he stood up again to flush he noticed that the surface of the newly-filled bowl had a film across it, like a soup. What was wrong with him? Did he have a UTI? Had all those late nights and bad dietary habits resulted in an infection? He bent down to look closer. It smelled of... lamb. They'd had lamb shanks for dinner. He knew asparagus caused urine to smell but could recall nothing about lamb having the same effect. Why would it look gloopy? Then he remembered what happened after dinner and came through to the bedroom to relate this tale. The penny had dropped.

The mistress had not wanted to wash the fat from the lamb down the sink in case it blocked and so had flushed it down the toilet instead. Only it hadn't all flushed away and must have risen to the surface again. Because the master had sat down, he hadn't noticed it beforehand, resulting in his fright (and this story). How she laughed!

To avoid further health scares, I am going to have to insist they adopt the same behaviour as another cabin owner round at the pond who pours all their fat residue onto the grass behind their cabin. It's often delicious.

Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Sleepless in Aberfoyle

I'm on holiday with the master at the moment, up at the cabin but it's no romantic interlude. In fact I think, along with the bacon, he's left his sense of humour at home. 

My suspicions of this started when I requested breakfast this morning at my usual 6.45am. He was not amused. Playing Skyrim till 5am had left him cranky, especially as he couldn't just shove me outside to pee, like he does at home. He had to get dressed in multiple layers to counter the cold frost, so together we could go into the wintry woods, him stumbling half asleep, me running at full tilt chasing two deer, both young does. Although they were smaller and not as fast as their parents, I still had no chance of catching them. I could hear others leaping away too, across the hill, away from me. Maybe tomorrow, with five deer to chase, the odds will be more in my favour, surely?

His humour bypass continued on the afternoon walk. It was a lovely day: still, hazy and blue skied, with a sun so strong sun glasses were required (although that may also have been down to his lack of sleep). We walked up towards the David Marshall Lodge following the Oak Coppice Trail. I was released from my extending lead when we entered the woods and was surprised when my demand for a tennis ball was met with a brand new one. He hasn't been trusting me with new balls since I kept squirrelling them away. After a short distance he got irritated because I kept dropping the ball to sniff my surroundings. It's been ages since I was there last so I had a lot to catch up on. Anyway, on one occasion, the ball rolled away from me into a muddy puddle. I gave him a look of 'how did that happen?' and let him retrieve it for me. If another walker hadn't been within view, I think he may have thrown it at me. Instead he tossed it gently into the air towards me, a curve of watery spray forming in its wake. He could have kept it from me but he believes it's safer to gobstopper me when others are around. It muffles my growls. It annoys me that he doesn't trust me to behave so sometimes I don't.

I decided to play a trick on him. I wandered into the young trees and waited till he was a good way ahead, then loudly rolled in the dead leaves. He was furious. If I was coated in forest denizen poo, he'd need to give me a bath and he was far too tired for all that effort. Plus, with his back problems, he wouldn't be able to lift me into the bath. 

He crashed towards me awkwardly, shooing me away from my rolling spot and eventually managed to snag my collar and replace my lead. After a teeth-clenched telling off, he marched me back to the car. Only we were midway round anyway, so the walk wasn't really curtailed much. The final laugh was mine when we returned to the cabin. He started to wipe my neck with a towel and found nothing was coming off. Because there was nothing to remove. He hadn't checked while we were in the woods. The ground had been frozen so hadn't left a residue. He sniffed the towel and my neck and couldn't find anything to report. He couldn't give into trouble for a crime I didn't commit. 

I snuggled up to him on the couch to prove there were no hard feelings as he slept off his gaming hangover that afternoon. I hope he's learnt his lesson.