While Doggo is officially old, it seems that MD is also slowing
down fast. L says he can barely manage double figures in ball chucks on the park
these days before wanting to go home. He could of course just be trying to keep
his fur white in this appalling weather but somehow I doubt it.
I move my Dog Training night to Tuesday as I’m in London on
Wednesday. For which I don’t have any problem getting up early for, what with
Doggo’s dodgy bladder now issuing an early morning alarm call every day.
After the obligatory progress meeting, which hinders
progress for an hour or so, we finally start work. It’s a more successful day
than expected but not as good as it could have been. I am driven down but get
the train back as my colleague goes on to visit another customer.
I do manage to get some cycling in this week, on Tuesday and
Thursday. Thursday is also pub lunch day, squash and L’s casserole night. This comes with crinkly chips and a swift retraction because you
can’t go around using ageist words like that these days. Now she’ll have to find
something to resign from.
At least they've scrapped the Presidents Club where rich men were relieved of huge sums of cash by pretty young women flashing their chests. Thankfully this exploitation of rich men will now stop and all men-only gatherings will be banned. Hopefully the scourge of town centres, hen parties, will go as well.
At least they've scrapped the Presidents Club where rich men were relieved of huge sums of cash by pretty young women flashing their chests. Thankfully this exploitation of rich men will now stop and all men-only gatherings will be banned. Hopefully the scourge of town centres, hen parties, will go as well.
Friday I have the afternoon off work, we are setting up for
our dog show on Saturday. Which doesn’t go that well as we’re all almost an
hour late due to the shocking traffic.
(Friday 26th
January)
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