Friday, 19 May 2017


Reg, the younger Miniature Schnauzer who we share our house with went AWOL yesterday morning. The husband, who was having what is commonly known as 'a bad morning' had been in and out the front door so often that I thought he was doing some Okey Cokey practice, but it turned out that in quick succession, he'd forgotten his phone, then his lunch and finally his keys.  While all this to-ing and fro-ing, Reg took his chance and nipped out.

It was when I was preparing my lunch that I noticed he was missing.If cold roast chicken hadn't made up part of my lunch, I doubt I would have noticed he was gone.  That dog can hear a Tupperware lid open from half a mile away, especially the one which houses the roast chicken.  After some frantic searching and a conversation with the husband as to whether Reg had stowed away in the car, I resigned myself to standing on the doorstep in my dressing gown and yelling. 

Now this was all happening at 6.30am, and not a lot happens down my road at that time, what with normal people still being in bed, so I restricted myself to a gentle 'Come on Reggie', followed by a half-hearted whistle.  Nothing.  I then tried his special call, the one you use when all else has failed.  'Reggie, Reggie, Reggie, come to mumma!'  Still nothing (other than shame at having revealed this to you all). Of course, if I'd had the balls to shout at the top of my voice, 'Reg!  Come home you little bastard.  I have chicken', then he would have been home like a shot, but no one wants to hear this first thing in the morning.

And then there was the next dilemma.  I needed to get dressed to go and search for him. Should I leave the front door open in case he came home, or would Percy then disappear also?  Should I shut the door and risk Reg coming home? He would have seen the closed door, and shrugging his shoulders in a 'sod it' sort of way, would have headed off to the field again.

As I stood there with one foot on the stair, trying to decide what to do, his face appeared at the front door.  He'd obviously been hurtling around the long wet grass, as he resembled a toilet brush, and I reluctantly let him in.

Percy was staring at him, and I imagined him saying to Reg, 'Where the hell have you been?  You missed the chicken you know'.  Reg took a sniff of Percy's whiskers, and had the nerve to look up at me expectantly.

Fat chance mate...

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