Friday, 21 February 2014

Friday 21 February 2014

Gisèle was going to write this entry herself.  I believe she was going to "entertain" you with the fact that she wasn't currently barking to me, apropos my lecture to her on morality after her frolics with Boris.  She was also going to provide you with a list detailing why I was (a) wrong; and (b) a boring old fossil.  These, however, are "treats" to be savoured at some future point, for events have overtaken her easily-distracted mind.  Ah well.  Anticipation, they say, is but half the thrill... For goodness' sake.

Betty has returned.  She is, I am pleased to bark, behaving herself extremely well - despite the insolence of Gisèle, who had convinced herself that it was in honour of another visit from Boris that the house was being prepared.  On discovering that it was The Hon. Elizabeth (she had not bothered to listen to my partner's prior information of Betty's visit) at the door Giz, in response to the Giant Schnauzer's hearty greeting, snapped "Why aren't you Boris?!  Go away!"  Fortunately Betty is used to Gizzy's habit of barking first, sniffing later and actually thinking as the merest of afterthoughts.  All is well now between the girls.  Now...

The very evening of Betty's arrival last week coincided with the worst of these awe-inducing and destructive storms under which much of Britain is currently suffering.  The wind literally roared around our little house, the trees at the side creaked and twisted most alarmingly, branches crashed down, and the rain sounded like pebbles being repeatedly hurled at the windows.  Even Gisèle, who is not normally troubled by such things, was afraid.  The power flickered on and off and the two trembling dogs clung to each other for comfort and support.  My partner, after having lit a few candles "just in case" suggested, in a braver-sounding tone than I suspected she felt, that Gizzy tell Betty about her nice weekend with Boris (by way of a distraction from the wild elements without-doors).  The two girls trotted upstairs and I could hear them chattering away quietly.

After twenty minutes there was a sudden outbreak of hysterical screaming.  There were then two thumps - one soft, one heavy - more screaming, followed by a great deal of scrabbling.

My partner and I raced upstairs.  The two girls were in witless hysterics, screaming and shrieking, pushing, shoving and scrambling over each other in frantic attempts to squeeze themselves into the little airing cupboard.  My partner's clothes were flying everywhere.

"What are you DOING?!" cried my partner, but Betty and Giz were both in such a petrified state that neither heard her.
"OI!!!" I roared, "Pack it in, the pair of you! Now!!!"  The squealing stopped, but the desperate scrabbling did not. "Come out of there!"  Giz was half-way up one of the legs of my partner's pairs of trousers and reluctantly reappeared, still shaking.  Betty reversed out, wearing a pair of my partner's flowery-pink knickers on her head like a hat.  My partner pulled them off her with a look of disdain.

"What's going on?!" I demanded.  Both girls looked too terrified to bark.  They looked at each other shiftily, still quivering and squeaking.  "Come on - out with it!"

Eventually, Betty mumbled "Gizzy told me about all the naughty s*x-things she and Boris did..."
Giz corroborated this with a whimper, and then burst into tears.
"Oh, Jasper!" she wailed, "It's ALL my fault! All MY fault!!!  We're ALL going to die!!!"  Both girls began to squeal and cry again.

After what amounted to almost twenty minutes of extremely tiresome coaxing, I finally got the two to concede that they had decided that the weather and the flooding is some sort of Divine retribution for Gisèle's weekend of immorality.  It took me a further twenty minutes to get them to accept that it was merely weather, and that the natural behaviours of two young dogs, mutually attracted, were unlikely to bring about the full Apocalyptic might of the End of Days on the entire planet.  As soon as that rather heavy penny had clanged down in their relatively empty heads, they were quite satisfied and trotted off so that they could "do each other's fur-styles".

Terrific.  Another evening wasted.  Although I'll admit that the weather WAS pretty scary.
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