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Location: Cornwall, United Kingdom

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Autumn leaves

S & G have been so busy there's been no time to blog. G has been back and forth to Bristol and Saltash by train, car, plane. G who used to get lost on the underground in London. S has a break for a week now, so I've persuaded him to get back to the keyboard for me.

While they've been working hard I've had a tough time too, what with guarding the house while Dave the builder and his team were painting the outside of the house, then just guarding it. Trouble is, now I'm a bit deaf, I don't even hear the doorbell, and S thinks I'd let a burglar just walk over me, and that maybe I'd just give him a lick. But I did nearly get next door's cat this morning. Chased it round down their garden, but it escaped. So I drank its bowl of water. Yesterday I had the cat next door on the other side's plate of food. It was quite palatable. Better than my boring dry biscuits. S reckons I'm allergic to wheat, so can't have normal food, but I'm not so sure. Last night I fell so deeply asleep he didn't wake me for my suppertime rice. I was devastated this morning when I woke feeling hungry and realised what had happened.

Had a call from Matt this morning. His label has just produced some record that's apparently doing really well, and he's just been to Norway. I never go anywhere. It's called reckless, and they're called what G pronounces as Mismatch, but it might be Mish Mash.

Nx's sprout continues to grow, and should be out just before Christmas. Everyone seems to think it'll be a girl, but I'm not so sure. Can't get too excited; it's not as if it's a puppy or anything. I'm looking forward to licking it, though. Babies taste great.

S got some special shampoo from the vet last week and washed my paws. It's supposed to stop me nibbling my toes, and seems to have worked. So that's one less pleasure for the dog. They've just been cleaning the house, so S was quite pleased to escape and come to the PC. Now he says he's hungry and wants to listen to the football, so G will make him do the ironing. No-one thinks about what the dog wants.

Maybe I'll go and dream about catching the cat. He's called Maple. Pathetic.