Not the thigh,

Last week H sent me to town on an important errand. I took the Armeister with me for protection, it was really hard to find somewhere to park but eventually we abandoned the motor and headed down the alley and into the town centre. Here we were greeted by a large crowd of people who were waving flags at me. I thought that was very nice of them until I discovered that the elderly chap with his hands behind his back and the odour of tweed, silverware, privilege and faithful hound was Prince Charles. Always nice to see a member of the royal family with all their clothes on.

                                      "Mmmm Royalty, my favourite flavour"
The mixture of Royalty and Downton Abbey has gone to Carly's head. Now when people come to visit his stable he has all the other horses and dogs lined up in height order to greet visitors

                                    "How marvellous to see you, my man will take your polos "

I may have been a little blase about Ari's people gnawing activities, thinking that his actions would have no repercussions. I was rudely reminded that this was not the case when I visited the NLND last week. She graciously invited me into her house and opened the door to the lounge when her doggie Miss Molly leapt out of the room and bit me on the leg. Sadly I reacted like a subscriber to Bunty magazine demanding first aid and an operation while she was wisely saying to Gershwin that what goes around....