My own office
I have my own office. Well, I share it with Mum. I’m beginning to see some of the perks of writing the diary. Mum says, it’s more that I’ve grown up enough to be trusted a little more. Up until now, my tendency to investigate everything, mean that Mum wanted me to be restricted to those areas of the house where I could do the least harm. Now, because of the situation with Wilma and needing to spend time with each of us, whilst not going insane, Mum has had to reappraise how things work.
We tried Mum gardening from 7am to 8pm, but there are three problems with that. Firstly, the days are getting shorter and gardening in the dark is not easy. Secondly there is a tendency for it to rain some days and that’s not so much fun for either of us. Thirdly, Mum is exhausted.
Working indoors
Wilma has made clear that under no circumstances does she wish to spend time in a crate ever again. I can understand her point, but honestly when we need a nap it really isn’t so bad. Due to my tendency to open doors, Mum has said we need an ‘airlock’ between us. Simply being opposite sides of the same door is bound to go wrong sooner or later. (I’m betting on sooner). Anyway, we now have a new arrangement. Wilma, when she can’t have Mum to herself, will have the garden room. At those times it means Mum can work outside or indoors in her office as long as I am prepared to behave.
Yesterday was only day one of this arrangement and it went quite well. We have some time outdoors for me to let off steam, then I am allowed a Kong or a chew to settle me down. After that I’m ready for a little nap while Mum catches up on the computer.
Then I have a little bit of time in my own room, while Mum checks on Wilma. And repeat.
A cat
Oh there was a bit of an incident first thing yesterday. Mum gave me breakfast and then sent me outside. Normally she comes with me, but she needed five minutes before joining me. She came pretty quickly when she heard me barking like mad. There was a really small cat curled up on some wood which is waiting to go to the tip. It didn’t move when I barked. Mum says she thinks the poor little thing was terrified. She thinks it’s a stray. It was ages before it got over me barking and went on its way. I’ve had a good look around the garden and can’t find it anywhere.
Hugs, licks and head butts
Pebbles
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