It was an ignoble death.
We had been partners for so long, sharing in almost all of our finest expeditions, until fate's spiny claws intervened and parted us for evermore.
Yes, our Little Green Corsa is no more. This bereavement, and the shock and hassle that result from any sudden death in a family, accounts for my lengthy blog silence.
Last Friday, my partner and I were involved in a rather nasty car crash. She was driving, needless to say (it would not have happened had I been at the wheel). Whilst I escaped uninjured from the accident scene, the same cannot be said for our sweet little car. It suffered a swift but decisive death. My partner suffered a minor injury to her leg and is somewhat shaken up (being of less-hardy stuff than myself). We have thus found ourselves stranded in our new house (STILL with no heating, I might add - though hopefully this is being finally remedied today) - and with no computer. My tool of bloggery has not yet been transferred to our new house, so my partner was despatched to work with instructions to type up my entry during her lunch break. Happily, I was able to bark all I wanted to say into a Dictaphone, and I trust my partner not to edit my words.
What a week it has been. Quite aside from the trauma of the accident, we have felt much sadness in parting with our Little Green Corsa. It has carried us to Wales twice, to Dartmoor for many happy holidays, to Colchester (and Jasper's Green) for the Jane Austen shenanigans, and to the starting point of too many walks to enumerate. Tears were shed as we said farewell to the battered remains of our old friend.
We still have no washing machine in our new house either. That is to bark, we DO have a washing machine - but a previous occupant of our house stopped up the pipe so that it cannot be plumbed in. So, last Saturday, my partner and I climbed the hill to walk to her parents' house (they were away) with a full load of washing. I did not help matters when I made a bolt for it upon passing the vets (I feared I would be taken in). Washing was dropped and hastily retrieved, while I was called a variety of unflattering names. But my partner's mother has been very good, kindly ferrying us to work and to shops for sustenance. We are going to look at two cars tonight. Lack of money forbids spending any more than £500 or so on our new chariot, but we are reasonably confident that we won't be landed with a complete turkey of a wagon. So far our choice seems to be a Peugeot (possibly a bit dodgy) or a Renault Megane (my preferred option - 'tis of similar colour to our Little Green Corsa. And the Peugeot doesn't have an in-car stereo - always a necessary function).
I have warned my partner that I shall not be planting my sweet little bottom in a knackered old jalopy. I think she understands.
Despite this upheaval in our outdoor life, my partner and I are still enjoying being in our new house (apart from lack of heating, computer, washing machine, etc.). I must say, the massive new double-bed is a definite improvement - SO much space for me to spread out. The fact that my partner has to sleep precariously balanced on the edge of the bed as she did in our old single one provides a nice touch of continuity for her, I feel.
I am still sure that someone is watching me whenever I am in our garden. I know it's not Starsky, because I can see into his garden, but I can feel a pair of eyes burning holes in my fur whenever I step outside for a pee. It is most unsettling. But have no fear - I will unearth the shadowy rogue in time.
"Ewan's World of Cheese" is not appearing alongside this entry. I have told him that he either cleans up his act, or he's not getting on my blog again. He has promised to try harder. I don't hold out much hope. He has assured me that his next offering will be factually correct, to a point that I find it acceptable. He'd better, or there will be some nipping around here - Fizzy or no Fizzy.