It’s Wilma here today as Alfie was having a ‘dementia day’ on Thursday. He spent the whole morning fast asleep on Mum and Dad’s bed, which he does not normally do. He usually only goes up when Mum goes up and if he doesn’t come down with her is only about ten minutes later. When he did come down at gone midday he was really confused and just walking around in circles in the kitchen. He had to spend an hour sitting in the car in the afternoon when one of our neighbours came round. He was just disorientated by everything.
Anyway, I said I’d write today’s to help out. Besides which I had to tell you about my training session on Wednesday night. It did not go well for any of us. For my part I’d have been so much happier if Mum had been willing to feed me cheese all night instead of accusing me of getting greedy and going back to my normal treats. But that’s nothing to how much happier I would have been if she had not managed to poke me in the eye and I mean completely in the eye. There I was with my eye red and smarting and she was still trying to make me follow her commands. If you asked her, I’m sure she would tell you a different story of the evening. Apparently having a bark that is loud enough to carry across the valleys and mountains of Switzerland doesn’t work so well in a smallish room in England. She was not best pleased that I had a comment on absolutely every exercise we were supposed to be doing. I might have got her slightly in trouble by not doing as I was told either. By the end of the night we were not on the best of terms, although we made up before it was time for bed. The upshot of it all is that I have to do more training at home so that I will not behave as badly next week. One of us is dreaming and I don’t think it’s me!
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