There you are happily being bored when suddenly you find yourself in England. Maybe that is a tiny exaggeration but when I was wandering round not knowing what to do with myself, I wasn’t expecting my mistress to break a tooth and want to see a dentist in England rather urgently. There are, of course, perfectly good dentists in Belgium but given how much my mistress hates going to the dentist, she preferred the idea of driving to one she already knows and who speaks the same language. I suppose she has a point. So we have had a surprise trip to the vet. I don’t know if the vet was surprised but I certainly was. I did have a funny incident in the waiting room, which almost made it worth it. I did have to laugh. I was sitting patiently, minding my own business, with my mistress. Then this other lady came in with a dog that started barking at me the minute his owner had opened the door. He barked so much that in the end, she decided it would be better for them to wait outside. Then her son, at least I presume it was her son, took hold of the dog and the lady came back in to the waiting room. Well I sat there until she was comfortable, as though butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. Then I just casually turned my head and looked over my shoulder and growled at her. It is amazing how brave I can be when there isn’t a real threat about. She did look a little concerned but I think my mistress laughing at me might have slightly spoilt the effect. Anyway, now I am at my grandparents, being spoilt. So all in all, my mistress’s bad tooth isn’t such a bad thing after all.