I think it’s time I restarted my blog. Linda and I are
coping as best as we can without David, but it’s not easy. As I’m now the man
of the house, I think it’s my place to help her all I can.
David used to do most of the shopping, and I know food
shopping is something Linda hates (I believe it’s a different story when it
comes to shoes, handbags and dresses). So I decided to help out. I thought if I
put my excellent hunting skills to good use, I could catch her dinner for her
and that would save her a trip to the supermarket. So, the other morning when
some friends took me for my walk, I kept my eyes and ears open and sniffed
around for rabbits.
I picked up a scent and shot off, only to trip over — a
rabbit. I think it was hiding from me,
but there was no time to be sentimental. This was Linda’s dinner. I grabbed the
rabbit and took it back to my friends. They weren’t as enthusiastic about my
haul as I was and muttered something about it being a hare and not a rabbit. I
looked pleadingly at them, hoping they would let me take it home for Linda to
cook. But no, they let it go and Linda had to make do with a salad.
It’s not only my hunting skills that aren’t appreciated.
Sometimes I think that not everyone acknowledges my fine breeding. Last
weekend, my friend Michael was looking after me while Linda went to the ballet
with friends. (I wasn’t even asked if I wanted to go.) Michael decided to take
me out and — can you believe this?— used a piece of string as a lead. He didn’t
even attempt to accessorise it with my diamante collar.
