This post is really a week overdue. I got a bit of an ear-bashing: “You’re rubbish at blogging. I’m going to write a blog post about how rubbish you are.” And to be honest, this is probably fair enough. I’m BUSY though. ALL THE TIME. I have my classes at night and I’m not going to lie, sometimes I just want to play computer games in my spare time. Blogging quickly slips down my list of priorities and I have my own blog that I try to keep ticking over.
tl;dr – I am really bad at blogging. Carley pesters me until I write.
I went home last weekend (27th to 29th January). I was my Mum’s birthday at the start of that week and it’s the sort of thing you have to do, isn’t it? I don’t mind going home, usually – it’s nice to catch up with my parents and see the dogs, but now that my brother’s in Virginia, I’m definitely a bit of a 3rd wheel.
Anyway. I didn’t really do all that much: walked the dogs, saw my cousin take the lead in a very obscure and surreal version of Snow White, and took the piss out my Dad and his work mates in the jakiest pub since Clark’s. I took pictures, as I do, but just of the dogs. Forfar is really boring and these two are the only things worth photographing.
Manuka, the golden lab, is my first ever dog, and I love her to bits. I was 14 when we got her, and I had no idea my parents were even seriously considering getting a dog. My brother and I had spent a weekend in February at my Grandmother’s for a reason I can’t remember, and we came back to the house to find a little yellow ball of fur running around.
An old family of friends were getting a pup from the same litter (Manuka’s sister Poppy) and they somehow convinced my parents to get one too. Manuka is the wussiest dog you’ll ever meet: she’s scared of nearly everything, included the decrepit half-blind cat that used to live next door. She’s taken quite well to Minnie though, even if she does play the role of “long-suffering older sister” very well.
Minnie, on the other hand, has a temperament at the opposite end of the spectrum. She’s nowhere near as affectionate, can be really annoying, has LOADS of energy and sometimes really misbehaves. She’s such a little rat-bag, hence the Rat Dog nickname (and for sake of completeness, Manuka is getting a bit of a podge, apparently, therefore “Fat Dog”. We’re an imaginative family, aren’t we?) I couldn’t possibly list all the naughty things she’s done, but here’s the “best” ones: stolen food from the kitchen counter, nabbed and eaten a whole block of lard, jumped into the loch and started to chase a swan, and decided to play chicken across a dual carriageway … I despair.
Aren’t they adorable, though? Despite their nonsense and occasional inconvience, I do miss them. I like having a dog to keep my feet warm, and to take outside. I think a dog is the only thing missing from our pseudo-middleaged lifestyle.
Anyway. I’m going to go play 8 Ball Quick Fire Pool. Totally addictive.
Later. S xStacey