He wasn't there. My partner did indeed pay a visit to BC's place of work this afternoon. His car was there, but of him there was no sign. He had gone to collect some things for his boss (a friend of my partner's, who caused all this trouble in the first place by introducing BC to my partner). However, hope has been restored to her troubled heart, meaning her journey wasn't entirely squandered. The boss-friend was able to confirm that BC will be in attendance at two of the performances, just not the Saturday one, so my partner will be seeing him again. I shall make the most of these last three weeks of tranquility, for I am sure that my over-exhausted but patient counselling skills will be called into play once more after the reunion has taken place.
But enough of this. Dear, sweet blog, you are fortunate to be hearing from me this evening, for an unhappy accident threatened my very life this afternoon. It was of the most serious nature, and involved that most wretched of treetop-based creatures: the squirrel.
While my partner was travelling towards BC's workplace, Maisie took me out for an afternoon of walking and sport. We were having a pleasant spell, walking alongside the river. A rustling sound from on high distracted me from my pursuit of the sight of trout in the water. I quickly scanned the trees on the riverbank and spotted an impudent young squirrel shaking a branch and jabbering away at me in some incomprehensible squirrel-chatter. Without taking my eyes off the cheeky little upstart, I began to give chase. My quarry leapt from branch to branch and I sped along the path after him, my head raised aloft to the branches all the while.
All of a sudden, and with NO warning, I was plunged into the coldest and wettest water that you can imagine. Water filled my snout and my angry bark was stifled by a mouthful of water and river-weed. That evil little tree-hugger had caused me to run clean off the path and straight into the water.
Now, normally I greatly love a swim (I believe a distant ancestor of mine may have been part-otter). But NOT an unintended dunking on a cold Autumn day, before I had had a chance to clear it first with Little Jasper (my willie) and allow him to brace himself against the cold. I can tell you that Little Jasper was just as startled as the rest of me and his sharp retreat into my body resulting from the shock of the instantaneous drop in temperature made me cry out once more.
I staggered back onto the riverbank to see only softly undulating twigs where the squirrel had once been and Maisie, on the path, convulsed with the most inappropriate laughter. NOTHING about this situation was even remotely funny. Shame on her.
I have dried out now (Little Jasper lay immobile and draped on a cushion while he recovered from the shock - he still is not speaking to me). But the cruelty of this indignity lingers on.