Disrespectful laughter is not a sound that I like.
Don't mistake me, I do very much like to laugh. I just don't like being laughed at very much. My handsome predecessor, Jasper (who started this blog back in 2006) liked making people happy as much as he could and often performed particularly to gain laughter and general amusement. Here he is, nobly sacrificing dignity for the sake of laughter, posing at Pixieland on Dartmoor in Devon:
Elsewhere on this blog you can spot him dressed as Sherwood Forest, some Watercress, Robin Hood and performing in character as 'Bullseye' in a production of Oliver! and these were by no means all his appearances.
I will admit that I have done a couple of shifts dressed as some watercress myself; you can find it here within the pages of this blog if you want to see that, I am not going to look it out and post it again. My own ability with photography is not high - just a few days ago I sat on Mistress's 'phone and accidentally posted a rather ordinary (as if there could be such a thing) photo of myself dozing on a sofa to her "My Story" section of something called Facebook. She only found out when she got notifications that people had seen it.
The general subject of this all came about back at our house earlier today. Mistress was sorting through a box and found lots of dog photographs. Right back to her first dog Jaki, through the tragically short-lived Tess Tickle and our hero Jasper-Horatio up to my own sweet self, Mistress showed me lots of pictures and I enjoyed them very much. We also found some pictures from six years ago. They were less to my taste.
These pictures were taken on the day that Mistress came out of hospital after recovering from kidney failure. She had brought some "souvenirs" from the nurses on her ward. Because I was so happy to have Mistress home alive and well I reluctantly agreed to pose briefly with these items. It was my belief that these pictures would never see the light of day. Silly me. I defy you, friend reader, to dare to laugh at them...
After coming back to GrannaPea's house later in the afternoon, I was given a big tasty chew to enjoy. I decided to consume half and stash the remainder for another time. I duly took the first opportunity of sneaking outside when the back door was open, to bury my bounty in a carefully concealed secret location. I chose a specially-secluded site, prepared the ground, and placed the chew. Some time later, GrannaPea had cause to put some stuff into her compost bin and, inexplicably, found my place of concealment! The traitorous septuagenarian (big word for me, I know. I looked it up on Mr. Googles) came back into the house laughing in a VERY disrespectful way and summoned Mistress. She followed her mother back outside and both of them returned laughing heartily. I got very cross. The more cross I got, the more they laughed. Mistress called me "a total muppet" and said that my burying skills "were rubbish". I think not.
After all, I chose my spot most carefully. It was the site of where the old compost heap used to be (before the posh new compost bin arrived). I didn't go there hardly at all last year because birds were nesting in the clematis and I had to be good and leave them alone. They are gone now and the nest is empty.
Mistress has been using her new computer to play games (very unfair, it was only supposed to be for me to be writing this on). Some of them have been "hidden object" games, where you have to find particular things on a crowded screen. So here is my very own hidden object game. See if you can find (a) the nest (easy) and (b) my very carefully and professionally hidden chew (I bet you can't):
I don't know why they were laughing.
Stay safe, be nice to each other, don't give up hope and keep smiling.
Lots of love from Gisèle x
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