What's happening out there?

There I am sitting at the keyboard at 7.00 am, surrounded by yelping, fighting dogs and thinking out loud that there's nothing to write, when Jan, walking through the study behind me, bleary eyed, happens to mention that at that hour of the morning very little has yet happened. I'm dumb and she's clever, but together we are a powerful force! We all have choices in life, I could have chosen a woman who could strip and clean an AK47 or milk a sheep but no, I chose Jan, who has a degree in stating the bleeding obvious, who can cook up a storm and who will pander to some, but not all, of my filthy habits. Aren't I lucky?
(How do you know she can't strip an AK47? - Ed.)

***

The dogs' sleeping arrangements are interesting. The first night, Harry discarded his luxurious, triple layered bed in favour of Max's filthy, crumpled and ripped, ex-Ikea rug. Max, obviously feeling displaced, slept on the tiles in a corner. The second night however, Harry continues to use Max's bed and then Max moves onto Harry's luxury mat and so they stay for the third night as well. Max, coming from puritan stock and not being used to such luxury, attempts at various times to rip Harry, and Harry's bed, to pieces. We, wanting to give dog and possessions back to Bob and Lynne in one piece, jump on Max and tell him off. He looked puzzled!

***

We took both dogs in the car for a quick trip to Quissac, mainly to show Max that other dogs can do it without kicking up a fuss, but also as a break from routine (for me that is). I use this outing as an opportunity for a little walking to heel training. Harry is fine and walks in a straight line, Max sort of 'tacks', constantly crisscrossing from left to right as if fixated by some old sailing lesson. Strange.

***

It's hand back time, because Bob and Lynne arrive for Harry. Max looks on wistfully as Harry disappears up the drive. His best friend has disappeared suddenly out of his life. No more bitten cheeks, no more rushing his food, no more having to share his toys, just a big empty void. (For goodness sake, just give it a rest - Ed.)