My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 3
I’ve been living in the fast lane. Or at least I’ve been spending hours and hours in the car. Every time we go out, we go twice, and we always end up back at home. I like home. It’s where my bones are. And my bed. And socks.
So where have you been, Watson? You may well ask. The quick answer is everywhere! And not everywhere is friendly I may add. Most places are. We went to a cottage by a lake. Everyone oohed and aahed and said what a handsome fellow I am. Which is normal. Then things got weird. They all started cooking sticks with sausages over a fire. Now, here’s the thing, we have loads of sticks in our garden, but none of them have sausages.
What’s up with that? I know we have an outdoor fire at home because I paddled in it. Ha! You don’t believe me? Check the picture to the right. See? She took that picture before I climbed in. She wasn’t happy. That was the day we took the fast lane to the shower.
But I digress. The countryside was great. I sniffed and played and ran — and almost slid off a jetty. Which is when She yelled. I regained my footing and gave her a look.
Not every trip ends as well. We trotted into one place that was full of wonderful smells. And dogs! Plus a couple of cats but I ignored them. They were cowering in cages so I only gave them a cursory bark to let them know I was there. They didn’t say much. The dogs did. They barked back and we had a right old gossip. Then a lady called out ‘Watson!’ Dead proud I was. I strutted along a corridor with yellow paw
marks that led into a small white room. That room smelled less friendly. With hindsight, I should’ve smelled a rat. I stood on a table that moved upwards and she gave me a treat. And then, while I was chewing it, she stuck a sharp pain into my neck. I gave her a look, too. But I’ve learned my lesson: never trust a woman bearing gifts on a moving table.
Mind you, we don’t always go by car. One day we waited on a bench and along came one of those noisy blue tin trams. You know the kind: they always thunder across the viaduct when I’m underneath. But this time we got on! Whaaaat!? It rocked and rolled
and I slid about. That’s the downside of having a furry butt. I slide on smooth surfaces. Like tram floors. Every time the doors swished open, new people got on and stopped to talk to me. And I felt obliged to stand up and be sociable. Then off we’d go again. She would help me sit close to her feet and I’d slide away and ding dong! The doors would swish open. I was worn out by the time we got off. Must have missed something too; She looked smart when we set off but her hair was all over the place when we arrived. Wonder what happened?
We’ve been back to see the nice lady who is helping me train my family. Very exciting it was. We met by the football pitch and loads of little boys were kicking a ball up and down a field. Today’s ‘problem’ was the fifteen-foot net that surrounded the pitch. How was a puppy supposed to join in?
I had a quick bash at wriggling underneath but He pulled me back. Sour grapes I reckon. I think He knew He’d never get under. So He talked to the lady while I watched the match. I hope he learned something useful. Like how to get rid of the cats.
I like being outdoors. Plenty of leaves to eat and scuff through. Mushrooms to pick. It was raining cats and dogs the other day, She said. I held my breath in case we ended up with another cat. I was born on a dark and stormy night, remember? (Or see My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 1. http://ruthkj.com/my-memoir-by-watson-chapter-1/) She got out my raincoat and then announced — with too much horror for my liking — that it looked like a ‘pea on a drum’. I was offended. I have peed on a good many items, but a drum? Never. Slander, that was. I think She realised that my feelings were hurt because I now have a new raincoat to go with my almost-new raincoat.
The cats also got new stuff. A new cat tree. To go with their old cat tree. Why do they need two? They run up different trees now when we play. But She still shouts my name more than theirs, so I know She loves me most.
Have a mentioned that my legs are longer? I can now put my chin on the dining table. If I stand on my back legs. And They don’t notice. The downside is that I’m too big for my sleep shelf. So I’ve bagged myself a spot by the fire. I think I’ll go and nap on it now.