Tuesday, 10 February 2009

Tuesday 10 February 2009

On Friday last week, at about 1.45pm, my little furry life changed forever.

My partner met with the local housing association and signed the papers pertaining to our new home. She and I are now householders! We've got the keys and have made many little trips to our small palace. The property has been thoroughly cleaned and decorated, as promised. The suspicious stain in the bedroom is all that lingers to remind us of the house's former disgusting state, and that will soon be carpeted over. Here are some pictures:

Oh yes. The stain. "Suspicious."

Our furniture (the nice, second-hand stuff from our US friends) is arriving on 17 February, so we will be moving in sometime between then and the beginning of March. I am always very happy to call in at our new house, but the carpet is not yet down and there is currently no heating, so I don't like spending too much time there. I generally try and attach myself to my partner for warmth after about fifteen minutes. My partner always explains that it will be nice and warm there once we have moved in properly, but I shall require proof before I am convinced.

I want to call our new house "Jasper Stafford's House of Pain and Pleasure", but my partner won't let me. She wouldn't say why.

We have met our new neighbours; they seem nice. The lady has a little dog called "Starsky". Hmmm. He certainly belongs in a Hutch, if his language is anything to go by. He has a big mouth on him for such a small lad - I may have to pummel some respect into him once I've settled in.

Barking of irritating mutts, that leads me nicely into some news of a disturbing sea-change in the lives of Fizzy and Ewan. I accompanied my partner to work the other day, arriving a few minutes before the uneasily co-habiting pair. It was the first time in ages that I had seen them - since some time before Christmas, in fact. I was half-expecting Fizzy to have finally flipped out and mauled Ewan out of sheer frustration by now but, no, as I stood at the window and watched their partner drive into the work-yard, I saw two little heads bobbing up and down in the back of the Landrover. Out jumped Fizzy, closely followed by Ewan. But something was VERY wrong.

I regarded the pair as they capered about the yard, yipping, laughing and playfully nipping each other. I could barely believe what I was seeing. They were blatantly performing a dance of courtship. HOW did THAT happen? I withdrew from the window in disgust, and not a little jealousy. It isn't fair. I liked Fizzy first - AND I told her to be nice to Ewan. I didn't mean for her to be THAT nice.

The sickening couple pottered around outside for a while and then deigned to enter the office. AS they greeted me heartily, I noticed that Fizzy's ears were sopping wet. Ewan had been licking Fizzy's ears clean.


Trying to hold a conversation with either former friend was utterly pointless, as they kept staring dreamily at each other. Just being in the same room as the pair of them made me feel nauseous. Fizzy, however, did break away from her dream lover momentarily, to remind me of a promise I made before Christmas and which I had completely forgotten about. Ewan trailed in her wake, with a little envelope in his mouth, which he passed to me. I opened it and stared at the contents with a growing sense of horror.

Apparently, when Ewan had been insulted and humiliated by Fizzy and was distressed, I had offered him a window in my blog in which to promote his theories about cheese, by way of an effort to raise his spirits. I started to deny all knowledge of this, desperate to try and avoid polluting my pure and sensible blog with his dairy-based nonsense. After a few minutes of my blustering, Ewan's eyes started to swim and his lips began to tremble. At the first sight of this, Fizzy was quick to turn on me.
"You promised, Jasper." she growled, threateningly, her hackles beginning to rise. "Don't you DARE go back on your word and upset my Ewan." And, just for good measure, she showed me her glittering fangs while Ewan pretended to tremble behind her.

Dear reader, what could I do? I am no coward, but only a fool would tangle with the fearsome fangs of Fizzy. I silently nodded my acquiescence and Fizzy gave a satisfied smile and stood aside. Ewan looked proudly at what had been in the envelope.

"Thank you, Jasper." he beamed, "I'm very proud of this. Fizzy helped me with the spellings."

"I'll bet she did, the adulterous harpy." I thought to myself, but I kept quiet and managed a watery smile at Ewan.

So - under duress - and with sincere apologies to you, here it is:

I really am incredibly, terribly sorry.
Good night.

Monday, 2 February 2009

Monday 2 February 2009

This morning, I opened my big, dewy brown eyes to a whole new world.

Never, in the history of my life, have I seen so much snow. So excessive was the snow (between two and three inches at breakfast-time) that my partner was unable to travel to work (in common with much of the rest of the country). As my partner's mother is nervous of the snow (following an accident that befell her when she was walking my three-year old partner and her infant brother to playgroup back in London), my partner and I volunteered to walk the mile or so to the shops to collect necessities. The route handily passes the entrance to the park. WHAT a coincidence...
Once released into the crisp, deep snow in the park, I was as a pup once more. I capered about in high glee, completely bewitched with this strange new playground. My partner had taken the camera, to record my joy for posterity. Witness:

It comes all the way up to my knees and is oh, so soft...

...doesn't taste too good though. (You can see my operation scar in this one. This is not good weather in which to have a shaved flank.)

The obligatory action shot.

Had enough now. Cold. Tired. Wet. Going home.
What a lovely day. And remember, reader, - NEVER eat yellow snow... heh heh heh...
Good night.