Yesterday, we had the Dreaded Hair Cut with Mrs Danning.
Mum tricked us into going by telling us we were off on our normal walk, and then immediately after the walk dropped us at Mrs Danning's without going home first. I thought this was not playing by the rules At All as it gave us no time whatsoever to prepare. Usually I need at least half an hour to practice my Sad And Wobbly face which I always use when it's hair cut time. I didn't even have time to start shivering or to gaze at mum with an anguished expression. Poppy forget to look sad too and went off with me and Mrs Danning merrily wagging her tail. Although she did say if she'd known that was where we were going she'd have rolled in some fox poo in the woods.
We came home smelling of aloe vera and lemons and looking all neat and tidy. Pop got her own back on mum by escaping through a hole in the fence later in the day when L came home from school and let us out into the garden. She's been working assiduously on that hole for days, hiding it behind some leaves so no one else apart from me knew it was there. The first mum knew of it was when David (our neighbour) rang her and said I've got Poppy here. Mum was coming back from spending a lot of money that dad doesn't know about yet on clothes in Salisbury at the time and she was not at all pleased.
Actually, she told me later she was more worried about Poppy getting herself squished on the road because as we all know Pop has no road sense whatsoever (you could change that to read no sense whatsoever and it would be just as true).
Anyway, Poppy had made herself at home in David's office by the time mum arrived and everyone had fallen in love with her, but I think this must only have been because she'd just had a bath and a hair cut and smelt nice and was all smooth and silky as a result. Normally you need a fumigator and gloves to risk picking Poppy up and snuggling her.
She told me when she came back on the front seat of mum's car (we're never allowed on there normally) that the nice secretary lady had given her her very own bowl of water in an ice cream tub and let her sit on her lap while she typed letters. This is NOT FAIR. Poppy misbehaves and gets cuddles and water and a trip on the front seat of the car- I stay at home inside our garden (which is where we should be) like a very well behaved dog and get not so much as a well done Ted for my trouble. No cheese. Nothing.
Poppy told me she was going to dig another hole and go back again tomorrow. Mum does not know this. In the light of her not giving me any cheese for being good I am deliberating not telling her. But as the Late Great Sir Terry Pratchett said in his book Truth (which I often listen to while mum is cooking): 'The way of the truthful-by-nature is as a bicycle race in a pair of sandpaper underpants,' so I expect I will tell her.
I did have a huge fuss made of me at Mrs Danning's by another lady who'd come to collect her dog, which was also a Westie. I'm afraid it was a Calender Westie though (you know? The sort who frequent the front covers of calenders and are permanently white and shiny and pristine no matter the time of year. So not at all like me really).
I have got over my irritation at the lack of Good Behaviour Reward (although it wasn't helped by L getting a pack of rolos for finishing his exams this week, or by Poppy not being told off sufficiently for eating a moth yesterday) and I have also forgiven mum for not taking me out on a run she did two nights ago with Pop. Pop said it was so hot she had to stop TWICE on the way round to climb down the back into the stream and get some water. She lay panting on the floor for AGES when they got back. I would not have liked that AT ALL so I suppose I got the better deal there.
Anyway, I'll close now and leave you with some photos of what happens when I'm trying to have a peaceful sunbathe on the step. Just be grateful you don't have a Poppy living with you!
Everyone here says I've the Patience Of A Saint, but she is very little and very silly and I have been brought up properly and know that you have to be patient with those who are less intelligent than yourself and therefore don't realise they are being foolish. You have to Set A Good Example and I am trying to teach her, but I don't think it's working:
I NEVER bury myself in the hedge when I'm pigeon watching, the aim being to move silently and never leave a trace that you've been there so they aren't warned of your presence, but Poppy crashes through the irises and gets stuck in them ALL THE TIME when she's doing her Vole Watching Club. It's enough to make me Despair sometimes.
Oh well, I at least have learnt to cultivate patience and hope to impart at least some of the wisdom that I possess to the silly small child. Eventually.
All the best,