Saturday mornings have always been special for me. I am not sure of the actual reasons for this, other than the 'feel good, end of the work week, hope for a relaxing couple of days,' kinda impetus. Of course, now-----that's a redundant reaction, as I have a six day week----one day working and six days off!
Perdy and I hit the footpaths of Tararu at a civilised time; about 8 am. She was pulling on the leash, eager to explore the myriad of smells and any possibility of a cat, lurking in the bushes. As we passed the retirement village, Perdy did this weird move; a twisting motion that had the effect of loosening her leash, giving her the chance to pull her little head from the aforementioned 'red imprisoning doggie feature!'
She was OFF---heading towards the 'oldies,' knowing that certain inhabitants of the village would be very welcoming. Perdy knows who will stick out the 'welcoming mat.' She has them all sorted into categories, all on the 'love me, hate me,' spectrum.
I, naturally 'followed the leash,' so to speak, dragging myself along the pathways and little roads of the village, looking like a bedraggled beachcomber. Luckily, many of the dear oldies, know me, from my many sojourns, past, and in front of the village, and along the waterfront. There were waves and smiles, as if they were in on this little Perdy escapade!; they were bloody COMPLICIT!
One lady, who has told me her name quite a few times, but I keep calling her the wrong name, pointed in the direction of one of the units in front of the village. I followed her finger and approached the inhabitant. The front door was open, and I could hear the sound of laughing and Perdy barking.
I knocked and called out at the same time.
'Come in, Neil,' a friendly voice replied.
What a sight: a cat sitting imperiously on the dining table and PERDY barking in that frustrated, 'I can't get you,' tone, while the owner, who's name I also forgot, watching with a smile that said, 'this beats being bored, any day.'
As for me---I was wondering when the bout of AFIB was going to hit! It didn't---because I managed to grab a wriggling Perdy and stick her lead back on---a little tighter. That was until the lead broke---and she was off again, this time heading out towards the main road.
'Oh no!' I shouted, loud enough to cause the manager to push the alarm. Wow---things really were going 'shite-shape!' If this didn't bring on an 'attack,' then I was going to have some other sort of 'medical event!'
I wobbled towards the main road, fully expecting there to be cars swerving to avoid the manic Jack Russell.
Nope---there she was, sitting under the huge tree that shades the front part of the village---patiently waiting for me.
GOT ya---maybe not. It is after all--April the first in New Zealand. BUT---I often have dreams like this little ditty!!
Have a great day, folks.
Perdy and I hit the footpaths of Tararu at a civilised time; about 8 am. She was pulling on the leash, eager to explore the myriad of smells and any possibility of a cat, lurking in the bushes. As we passed the retirement village, Perdy did this weird move; a twisting motion that had the effect of loosening her leash, giving her the chance to pull her little head from the aforementioned 'red imprisoning doggie feature!'
She was OFF---heading towards the 'oldies,' knowing that certain inhabitants of the village would be very welcoming. Perdy knows who will stick out the 'welcoming mat.' She has them all sorted into categories, all on the 'love me, hate me,' spectrum.
I, naturally 'followed the leash,' so to speak, dragging myself along the pathways and little roads of the village, looking like a bedraggled beachcomber. Luckily, many of the dear oldies, know me, from my many sojourns, past, and in front of the village, and along the waterfront. There were waves and smiles, as if they were in on this little Perdy escapade!; they were bloody COMPLICIT!
One lady, who has told me her name quite a few times, but I keep calling her the wrong name, pointed in the direction of one of the units in front of the village. I followed her finger and approached the inhabitant. The front door was open, and I could hear the sound of laughing and Perdy barking.
I knocked and called out at the same time.
'Come in, Neil,' a friendly voice replied.
What a sight: a cat sitting imperiously on the dining table and PERDY barking in that frustrated, 'I can't get you,' tone, while the owner, who's name I also forgot, watching with a smile that said, 'this beats being bored, any day.'
As for me---I was wondering when the bout of AFIB was going to hit! It didn't---because I managed to grab a wriggling Perdy and stick her lead back on---a little tighter. That was until the lead broke---and she was off again, this time heading out towards the main road.
'Oh no!' I shouted, loud enough to cause the manager to push the alarm. Wow---things really were going 'shite-shape!' If this didn't bring on an 'attack,' then I was going to have some other sort of 'medical event!'
I wobbled towards the main road, fully expecting there to be cars swerving to avoid the manic Jack Russell.
Nope---there she was, sitting under the huge tree that shades the front part of the village---patiently waiting for me.
GOT ya---maybe not. It is after all--April the first in New Zealand. BUT---I often have dreams like this little ditty!!
Have a great day, folks.
