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Old Dogs and Children and Watermelon Wine

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nunus_notes_smlWoof-woof, folks;

Please pardon me doing the Notes from bed, but it was a big weekend at “The Rese”, and of course everybody knows that weeks were invented for getting-over weekends. Eric sends his ‘pologies for not opening the blog sooner; he got the news an old friend is dying of bone cancer. Prob’ly got less than 12 months to go. Friend even sent pictures of bone scan. Black dots are where cancer has spread. bone_scan_rpoSo I said I’d do the Notes today, so Eric can think what to say to his friend. Just what do ya say, in a case like that?

Like I was saying, we had a beaut weekend at “The Rese”. I think it was the anna-versary – anna something, anyway – of my keeper starting to collect job advertisements. I reckon her collection of job ads got bigger than her leaf collection. Anyway, one day it must’ve been “Bingo!” or somethin’, ‘cos Hinerangi stopped collecting ads. Now she makes herself some little rolls for lunch and goes off early in the mornings to some lake. And it used to be nearly night-time when she got back. It’s much better now, though, ‘cos she got some wheels with a engine attached. Now I can monster her much earlier.

It’s not too bad when she’s away, actually. I watch the tele, and Eric is amazed at how good I’ve got at using the open-plan dunney my keeper made for me. It’s just newspapers on the floor. No privacy but, hey, who’s watching? And I get to think about what to put in the Notes.

Now, this anna thing – anna-versary that the Two Legs put on last weekend. It reminded me of my friend G. O. Anna, who Eric says might be a bonzai’d crocodile. Here’s a photo of G. goanna02As you can see, G. is also a Four Legs. But you know what? I don’t know if G. is Gerald or Geraldine. And I’m too polite to ask. I reckoned I had to find out somehow, so I hid behind a pot-plant when G. was out and about. Sooner or later G. had to either lift a hind leg (like I do) or squat down. Then I’d know – Gerald or Geraldine. But you know what? I never saw G. do either. Never did a piss. That bonzai’d crocodile must have a bladder that’s tighter than a fish’s arse. Either that or it’s got a whole new way of relieving itself. So I’m no wiser, it’s still G. But I’m still gunna peek. It might just be like Eric said, that G.’s inter-piss interval is much longer than my observation period. That’s mathematics for ya!

Yep, it was a beaut weekend. Two Legs and Four Legs all in together. Of course, we all ate a lot o’ chook. Lucky for us that Hinerangi had some wheels, so she could bring all that chook from Eric’s farm, or wherever. And we all had a good sleep after. And Eric and Heather were real kind next morning when they didn’t disturb the young Two Legs, ‘cos as Eric said the young ones need more time to digest their chook. Me, I think it’s just that bourbon makes better sleep than ginger wine.

Yes, folks, we’re a family now. G., and me, and the Two Legs. Say, almost forgot the other Two Legs – the one with feathers on. Together last weekend. Together in the future. For as some Two Legs once said, things with legs don’t live by bread alone. Nor do they live alone.

Until next time.



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