Monday 31 December 2007

Did you have a good Christmas? I did.

Food-wise, I did extremely well out of Ewan's visit. PLENTY of leftovers for a hungry Staffordshire to polish off, heh heh. Lots of good presents also this year. They included: a rubber chicken; a rawhide chewy bone; a shiny bag full of goodies; a tin of sausages. I got lots of gifts from my girlfriends this year, which I suppose is only right, given that they have had the gift of my company throughout the year. My wife Isolde sent me a special Christmas portrait of herself. Here it is:

Isn't she lovely?

I have to be a bit careful though. I met my principal girlfriend, Candy, when out walking in the woods on Saturday. We had an absolutely terrific game of tag and she shared a biscuit with me. That night, I had a most delicious dream about her (or it might have been Isolde, I don't know; I wasn't watching). However, the rather urgent movements that my sleeping body inadvertently made while I was dreaming battered my partner awake and now I think I might have made the duvet-cover pregnant. My partner was not, needless to say, pleased. The cover was clean on that day. I am not sure what the gestation period is for duvet-covers but, whatever the outcome, I will not abandon my responsibilities. As ever in these situations, I will move all my money into another girlfriend's bank account so that I cannot be touched for puppy maintenance payments and take a discrete holiday until the pups have reached maturity. Well, it isn't MY fault.

There have been no more moonlight serenades from my kitty-tormentors, happily. I am not letting my guard down, however. I doubt this is a permanent withdrawal of their antics.

I am grown most concerned at the recent appearance of a small blue box in this house. Within the box dwells a stopwatch and a small book, entitled "How Smart is your Dog? A Self-Scoring Intelligence Test for Dogs". I have a DEEP sense of foreboding. No good can come of this.

I have to go now. My partner is hovering at my shoulder, waiting for me to finish. For we are going to the pub to see in the New Year. Some boozy herbert always tries to climb the giant town Christmas Tree at midnight, which is generally a spectacle worth watching.

I hope 2008 is a better year for my partner (I'm alright; I had a good 'un). Heartbreak, illness and insolvency were her companions in 2007. So 2008 CAN'T be as bad as that, surely. I suppose there is a certain security in knowing that next year cannot be as wretched as last year.

Can it?

Happy new year to you all.

Good night.