Monday, 13 October 2008

Friday 22 June 2007

It has been a rather trying day today.

First of all, the sky-dog returned at lunchtime, with angry vengeance. There was apocalyptic booming and crashing and the brightest flashes of light I've ever seen. It was accompanied by absolutely torrential rain which, in turn, led to flooding. Flaming June indeed. I was very afraid and needed round-the-clock comfort from Maisie, and a pea and ham supper. I was better after that.

Last night, my partner learned that a young lady-dog, the partner of a friend, has gone missing. She ran away two days ago while in some local woods and has not been seen since. The young lady's name is Amber. So my partner and I went to the woods this evening to help to look for her. I think I picked up a bit of a scent at one point, but it soon faded. It is difficult because the ground is so wet. Alas, once we had decided to return to the car (it was getting dark and those woods are a weird place to be), the rain began to pour again. My partner and I were drenched through and drove home in despondent silence, soaked and shivering.

After my partner had dried and warmed me and was drying out herself, our doorbell rang. It was a neighbour, Dawn, to say that another neighbour, a gentleman who lives alone, had been taken very ill, and could my partner drive him to casualty? We went to his house, and he was speaking to a doctor on the telephone. My partner and the doctor were able to reassure our neighbour, and calm him, so there was ultimately no need for a trip to hospital although my partner and I remain on standby should we be needed again.

I don't hold out much hope for a better day tomorrow, either. My partner has been invited to a young man's 30th birthday party. She was invited by his mother. Unbeknownst to this mother (a nice lady), my partner and her son once had a brief but passionate drunken dalliance. It was a few years ago, but still enough to make subsequent meetings between them a little awkward. Still, the chap's mother was rather insistent that my partner attend the soirée, so she has bravely purchased a neutral gift and is going along. She's a game girl. I don't know if he (and regular readers of my jottings will know to whom I refer) will be there. The dalliance in question was long before he appeared on the scene (before BC - "BBC", if you will) and I'm not sure if the two young men even know each other. All I do know is that I have a deep sense of foreboding about this shindig.

I will go off to my bed now, and trust that the sky-dog does not make a return trip to these parts. He must be getting bored of shouting at me by now. My partner says that we might make a return trip to the woods in the morning and have another look for Amber. It would be nice to find her, and perhaps add her to my collection of wives.

Good night.
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