An important pear – Tuesday 25th September 2018

An Important Pear

Outside the backdoor is an important pear. Not two of something, just one piece of fruit. It’s proving to be important in several ways. Our Mistress is claiming it to be important as it is, or rather was, the first decent pear that our pear tree has managed to grow. We’ve had the trees several years now and until now the one or two pears it has grown have been blighted by one problem or another. It means our Mistress celebrated having grown one that would be edible. She doesn’t actually like pears so she was going to give it to our Master when he was home. There was just one, or more to the point two small problems.

Aristotle likes fruit

While Aristotle was ill, he thought he needed to add some fruit into his diet so he picked the pear and was all set to eat it. He was very proud of his find and showed it off to our Mistress. That’s where his plan fell down. At that point our Mistress was being very careful about what he was eating so she took the pear away from him and, as it was relatively undamaged, she put it on the side of the vegetable trough. She puts all sorts of things on there prior to them coming into the house. However on this occasion she made the mistake of leaving it unattended.

101 uses of a pear

As a breed we can be ballaholics. It can give rise to some real problems and a lot of injuries. When we like playing ball we can become totally obsessive and would rather fall exhausted with the ball in our mouths than actually admit we needed to stop for a while. Anyway, for that reason our playing ball is rationed. I’m rationed to never, as I become very hyper and take hours to calm down. Aristotle is not allowed to play ball because of his bad legs. Wilma and Shadow are both allowed to play occasionally and under supervision. That means that generally balls are not left lying about. Wilma however found the pear.

A good game

Wilma had no intention of eating the pear. She did plough her way through a few apples, but she had other ideas where the pear was concerned. Wilma saw the pear as a ball substitute and promptly ran off round the garden with it trying to get me to chase her. By the time she managed to retrieve the fruit from Wilma that particular pear, our Mistress’s pride and joy, was no longer in any state to be served up to our Master. Maybe next year we’ll do better!

Have a great Tuesday


© 2018 Rosemary J. Kind

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