I’m home. Oh it was a wonderful feeling to put my paws back on Belgian soil. England is all well and good but I’m Belgian. I come from the land of beer, chocolate and waffles. For me that isn’t the right order but this isn’t the time to split hairs. (I always wondered why there was an expression about splitting animals like rabbits with long ears, until my mistress pointed out I spelling hare wrongly). I’ve also found out the French saying, equivalent to the English saying “Pigs might fly” is “When hens have teeth”. It’s interesting because “hen’s teeth” in English is used for saying something is ‘rare’, rather than ‘unlikely’. I do think I prefer the image of flying pigs, it is a much more visual representation. Less of this philosophy, I have a whole wood to go and explore and trees to pee on, in celebration of being home.
I didn’t’ tell you what a huge amount of fun I had the other day. James had come round and wanted to surprise his dad when he came in from work, so he hid behind the curtain. Well first of all he hid and called me and I couldn’t find him. I didn’t think to use my nose, I was just looking and couldn’t see him. I ran round the circle, from the lounge to the dining room to the kitchen, three times before I eventually worked out where he was. Then when his dad actually came home, he hid again and told my mistress not to say anything. He didn’t tell me not to say anything though. I greeted my master as usual and then ran straight to where James was, as my master didn’t follow I went back to get him and then a third time before he realised he was supposed to come with me. It was great being the one to say “look who’s here.” It isn’t usually down to the dog to break news to people, it was fun.