I'm Still Here

Dear People

When you get to my age, you sleep a lot. And I mean, A LOT. When I'm not comatose, I'm being prodded to go outside. The only long-term peace I get is at night time when they're asleep too. Naturally, I take pleasure in interrupting them to see how they like it. That's enough about my digestive tract.

Old age does have some rewards so you really mustn't feel depressed at the prospect. I think I have mentioned previously that they've got what they call 'builders' in. They are two jolly fellows who occasionally bring some extra companions and often carry big sticks around. I feel a kind of sympathy towards them. They're in and out of that door in all weathers and only get a drink when She puts one down for them. They do get more biscuits than me but I don't want to talk about any of that stuff again. I quite often get a passing pat from them. I'm not sure if they're being polite but it's quite pleasant just the same although I do tend to fall over if they are too heavy-handed. So, in my waking moments, I like to stand in doorways. In my younger days, I would have been asked to move but now? Now, of course, I am deaf and so She may gesticulate wildly until she is red in the face - either from effort or embarrassment, I'm not sure - and I can stand my ground. OK, I sway a little but this just adds to my coverage of the area I am occupying, a bit like a goalkeeper. Add a vacant stare to the posture and you can get away with anything.

Hitherto forbidden territories have become accessible. Their bedroom, for one. She spends a lot of time there these days and she's given up shouting for me to get out. It's quite comfortable, actually. After all, that Ginger Ninja creature, he gets to go up on the bed with Her! If only my legs were stronger, I'd be up there too and then where would she go? My lovely, smelly cushion? I don't think so.

I think my next post will be about the rabbit problem.

Happy Monday!

Monty