‘Time to go home.’
‘Food.’ So we went…
The signs were good.
The smells even better.
But then it all became a bit of a faff…
I’m a patient dog.
And I like bowl scraping noises, like any mutt.
But some promise more than they deliver.
I’m always hopeful
But a dog can wait, while there’s all this chopping and beating stuff…
A boy might as well go and do a bit of guard duty. There’s that cat, you know…
Eventually he said they were done, though what were these ‘they’?
‘Mincemeat cookies,’ he said.
‘But mincemeat has raisins and I can’t eat them.’
‘I know,’ he said.
I thought, surely this isn’t some mean trick?
He was happy too, though, frankly I don’t know what the fuss is about.
Apparently they’re from Annette, who always says lovely things about me, but he says it’s hard to send them to her, so hopefully this post being dedicated to her, now she’s home after months at the vets, will suffice.
Thanks Annette, from both of us! And the rest of you, go visit her! It makes sense…
As my mum used to say, ‘If you want to get ahead… get a hat!’