Birthday Blog......

Good morning to you all, or whatever time of day it is for you....
Today I am 45 years old, 97 pounds in weight, and 4 feet 11 inches tall. I don't feel any different, certainly no more grown up. I remember being excited when I was turning 10, as this was double figures...then again when I was 13- a teenager! 18 and 21 were exciting too- I actually celebrated turning 18 in Buckingham Palace as I worked there at the time. I went out to the shops in Victoria and bought a bottle of champagne and a big cake (drinking age is 18 in the UK) and I took it across to my friends' rooms in the staff quarters at the Palace to share with them. The only thing was, we were supposed to go down and walk through the basements from one part of the Palace to another, unless we were working, and I just couldn't be bothered, so I took a shortcut across the Nursery Floor of Buckingham Palace (so called because Princes Charles, Andrew and Edward, and Princess Anne have suites of rooms and offices there) in my party clothes, cake in one hand and bottle of champagne in the other...... and got a warning for it the next day!! Ah, fun times!!
Then life was a blur of working, partying, getting married, having FABULOUS daughters, getting divorced....and then suddenly I was 40! Where did that time disappear to? And now, 5 years later I have 2 more marriages and 1 more divorce under my belt, and am living and working (and sometimes partying) in Anchorage, Alaska. Hmm..... funny old game, Life.
I have had many messages of love and good wishes from my friends and family on Facebook, and many on Google Plus too. This is the beautiful thing about the Internet; you can connect with complete strangers around the globe, crossing oceans, deserts and time zones, not to mention how many cultural differences, but we are all friends here.
I thank you all for that, it lifts the spirit when life can be somewhat hard sometimes, and I wish you all a lovely and happy day.
This is what I came into work to find this morning, how cute is that? Of course when it eventually deflates I will be sure to dispose of it responsibly, having read online about how many balloons are released each year and end up in the stomach of some poor confused creature who thought it might taste nice, or polluting fields, beaches etc.
I am sorry I won't have enough cake to share with you all, but think of it as a virtual internet cake, and help yourself to a nice big slice, with my good wishes.

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to....

It's my birthday. Or it is in the UK, where my home and my heart lies, here in Alaska it is not my birthday for another 8 hours.
I have friends and family in the UK so people have been writing messages on my wall already.
And what of the coming year? How do I feel about being a year older? Same as always I suppose; sad that another birthday is here and I don't feel as if I have achieved anything, happy when I realize I actually have, sad again when I think it isn't enough. I don't wish to be sad. I constantly remind myself to be truly, truly thankful for all I have. Every minute of every day those of us lucky enough to have access to the internet or a tv are reminded how simply horrendous and unbearable life is for so many all around the world, I think it really is a crime to complain about trivial things. That being said, I will try harder this year. I have made many mistakes in my life; so many in fact that even if I had as many fingers as a hundred pairs of gloves I still probably couldn't count them all. But this will be a new year, and I can redeem myself.....
So I will smile, I will be glad, and I will DEFINITELY sort my life out this year, FACT.
Also, I may eat cake.

Modern Day Bear Baiting...

Ok, so last night I got on the bus, said hello to the driver, then sat down. I was aware of a person to my left across the aisle staring at me so I deliberately looked ahead-NEVER engage these people in conversation....surely everyone knows that? Except that apparently they don't. That day's weirdo was a man who was obviously under the influence of something, and he was staring across at me and yelling loudly about needing help, begging someone to help him. Now you may think that I was being very mean for staring ahead and ignoring him, but let me explain; he was just another sad, drunk/drugged up human being who is all too common in today's world...rambling sometimes incoherently about his various woes; his lady who was pregnant but was drinking every day, then crying, then laughing, then talking about his old days "robbing banks and stealing motor bikes from the Hell's Angels" etc and so on. I make it a rule never to get involved with this type of person. Don't get me wrong, I'm as compassionate as the next person, even more so if I can be. I sponsor a little boy who lives in Africa, I donate each month to a further four charities, I recycle, and have set up a recycling box in the office, whereupon I bully everybody there to put  their stuff in it, instead of in the bin. But I will not get involved with drunken/troubled people on the bus, as they are usually the cause of their own troubles and I'm afraid I would rather use my efforts elsewhere. A young man sitting nearby started engaging the weirdo in conversation, and I realized he was filming him on his iphone-another one for Youtube I'm sure. And I thought to myself, amusing as it was, isn't this just a modern form of bear baiting? It's kind of sad to be exploiting this person I think. Sure, he probably made the choice to drink or abuse whatever else was in his no doubt overloaded system, and he's probably wholly responsible for the state he's currently in, but I felt sad that the young man felt the older man was a form of entertainment to be played with. Of course, seeing people like that is maybe a warning to others to be a bit more careful with their own lives, but it's sad to see. The weirdo never realized he was being filmed, although he did tire of the conversation and started shouting and swearing and the bus driver politely told him that "Sir? This next stop is yours." After he had gone another passenger warned the young man not to provoke this kind of person in the future, because you never know if somebody would pull a knife out or where the situation would have escalated to. So, once again it was a somewhat exciting ride home, but it's pretty sad how often you can see this type of person anywhere in the world......

"Gonna get me a turkey leg!!"

There is a lady who gets on the bus sometimes. She is of the large and black variety, reminding me of the lady that featured in the old Tom and Jerry cartoons. She's usually wearing a large pink headband, and pulling a plastic box on wheels with a lid firmly fastened- who knows what treasures are contained within....? She talks to anyone and everyone, or simply to herself if nobody responds. She tells the world at large what is on her mind, whether it be the state of the world in general or merely what she is planning to have for her dinner that day. Last week she was addressing the issue of everyone constantly using their phones in public. I agree to some extent; I don't like people using their phones when they are in restaurants for example, or sitting down at the table with loved ones. Some people cannot seem to understand that when you are with real actual people you should really be socializing with those real actual people, not playing games or facebooking. The games and the social network will most likely always be there; the people won't.
I also hate people using their phones when they are driving; I stood waiting for my bus one evening counting how many people were making driving their number one priority. Not many, that's certain. The vast majority were on their phones, smoking, eating, drinking cups of coffee, one lady was even applying mascara. All these activities were the first priority, the actual act of concentrating on the road seemed to come second. Considering that you are basically at the wheel of a lethal weapon and full concentration is required, I cannot understand this. How important is it to send a text to someone telling them that you are on the way when you have just killed someone because you weren't giving the road your full attention? As my pink headband wearing friend says 'Ain't nobody got the right to kill nobody, just cos they on they phone'. Wise words indeed.
She's also 'Gonna get me a turkey leg, a ten dollar turkey leg!' as she announced proudly this morning.....unless that actually counts for "Good Morning Bus Driver" in Alaska..........maybe I should start using this phrase from now on......

Hooray for Neal's Yard Remedies!!

Ooh, I am a proper girlie type of girl! I love all things sparkly, pink, pretty...... I love potions and lotions and makeup, and of course let's not forget my shoe obsession!
Yesterday I actually went out to a Social Function-a Neal's Yard Remedies party, with nibbles, wine, delicious smelling lotions, and actual other people! It involved drinking some wine (easy, even I can manage that!) eating a few delicious snacks (also easy) and sitting in front of a mirror (now that bit wasn't altogether pleasant, staring at my lines and grey hairs which seem to be increasing on a daily basis) and applying various creams and cleansers to my skin. It was a thoroughly pleasant experience, although there were so many creams that I did actually run out of areas to apply them. We used a hand scrub and after rinsing it off, my hands felt like the hands of a princess! Neal's Yard Remedies is a British company (oh joy!) and they specialize in fairly traded, organically grown ingredients, recycled containers and catalogues, everything designed with nature and good ethics in mind-perfect! Wouldn't it be lovely if all companies operated this way?
I came home smelling divine and feeling pampered, and I treated myself to a few goodies too.
Yay and double yay! I feel gorgeous!

Dog poo and Bambi skirts!!

Well, Bindi is sure showing her true colours now! This is a good thing, as at least it means she feels at home with us...
It started on Monday when I got a ride home from my Eskimo second ex-husband. (My first ex-husband lives in the UK so it's highly unlikely that he would drive past me while I was waiting at the bus stop). Anyway, as he had offered me a lift home I felt it only polite to invite him in for a cup of coffee to say thank you. He is no stranger to our house; he was Perfect Husband's best friend for over 30 years- in fact Perfect Husband was the Best Man at mine and Eskimo ex's wedding; turned out he really was the best man in the end....!! Eskimo ex hadn't met Bindi though, and she took an instant dislike to him, I guess maybe dogs aren't bad judges of character are they? She did her very best and loudest barking and growling, wouldn't go anywhere near him except when he offered her a small dog treat (she snatched it and ran away to eat it behind the couch) and promptly deposited a small poo on the carpet, a sure sign of her displeasure at his company.
Fortunately we have a carpet shampooer, so that wasn't much of a problem, just so long as she doesn't make a habit of it. Maybe it's a dog's way of keeping undesirable strangers at a safe distance, by producing a small minefield of defensive poos, with the dog safe in the middle........??
So that was Monday. Then on Tuesday Perfect Husband was playing with Whiney Dog, whilst Bindi was watching. She looked as though she wanted to join in but was afraid to in case either one of them accidentally trampled on her, so Perfect Husband picked her up and placed her on our bed so she could feel safe and gave her my Snoopy to play with. Snoopy is a soft cuddly toy that Perfect Husband gave me as a gift some time ago, and it lives on our bed. Not any more though; Bindi picked it up, shook it around then abused it in a most unladylike manner! I think she felt a whole lot better, although Snoopy will never be the same again, and is now banned from the bed forever, even after his spin in the washing machine...... (Maybe I should take it to see a trauma counselor...)
Bindi also has a taste for wine; me and perfect Husband were sitting together on the back door step while the dogs were exploring the garden, when suddenly Bindi sneaked behind him onto the step, stuck her tiny head into his wine glass and started lapping up his wine! She really IS my dog.....I absolutely adore wine, although I don't think I've ever pooed on a carpet (you'd have to ask my mum) nor have I ever sexually abused anything, let alone a cuddly Snoopy!
Naturally I didn't think a photo of dog poo or Snoopy Abuse would be appropriate, so today's photo is my new Bambi skirt, which I am in love with!! It's from Hot Topic if you're interested; one of my favourite shops and an excellent source of gifts for Fabulous Daughters One and Two!

Ninja Squirrel Home Invasion!!

If you have read any of my previous blogs you will know that there is a squirrel named Bob who visits our garden regularly. We put peanuts and sunflower seeds out for him, and sit and watch his cute antics, although trying to destroy Perfect Husband's bamboo wind chime (birthday gift from his daughter) was not very polite of him and resulted in peanut privileges being withdrawn for a few days.
Bob hasn't given us any major cause for concern until last Friday then...... me and perfect Husband were sitting on the doorstep together having a glass of wine while the two dogs were doing important Sniffing and Peeing duties in the garden. Suddenly Bob the squirrel appeared on the fence with a peanut wedged in his mouth. He ran toward the house, boldly making eye contact with us, then proceeded to run along the doorframe to the corner of the house and rest for a moment on the hanging basket. To our mounting horror, we watched him shimmy straight up the corner of the house before disappearing into the roof! OH NOOOOOOO!!! We looked at each other in abject horror- it's common knowledge that squirrels may look cute but are in fact the world's tiniest form of Ninja who's covert operations can include "espionage, sabotage, infiltration and assassination" (I got that bit from Wikipedia so it MUST be true....) !! Neither myself nor Perfect Husband are keen on the idea of being murdered in our beds by a peanut wielding tyrant, however small, so it became clear that Something Must Be Done.
So on Saturday we drove to our nearest hardware shop and bought a roll of metal mesh and approximately 300 nails. We then had to borrow Perfect Husband's sister's ladder which involved filling our truck with lots of towels, blankets and ropes, driving to sister's house, wrestling the ladder from its place on the garage wall to the truck (not easy considering the obstacle course of stuff in the garage; couch, boiler, two cars, fishing gear, skiing gear, hosepipes, snowboards, gardening stuff, random stuff etc etc...) placing blankets on the truck roof, tying the ladder down securely then getting it home without bringing down any trees or wires on the way.
Next was the task of investigating and repairing the hole.
Perfect Husband is not brilliant with heights, and spent a lot of time ensuring the ladder was stable before ascending, while I stood at the bottom holding the ladder and calling words of encouragement. (He weighs roughly twice as much as me, and although I failed physics I'm pretty sure him being at the top of the ladder somehow makes the whole thing more unstable, making it even less likely that I would have been able to stop him from toppling over should it start to sway, but I figured he might feel more secure with me out there doing my best). Anyway, he ended up nailing a piece of the mesh over the old tattered piece that was there, using as many nails as he could hammer into the surrounding wood without hammering any of them into himself (I stopped looking up to see if the ladder was swaying as it appeared to be raining nails) and then came down and almost kissed the ground with relief. I have to say, living in a country with no free healthcare, I was relieved too.
Bob, on the other hand was disgusted with our behavior, but as he does not contribute to the mortgage he has no say in the matter.

Beware of Witches!

So today's story is not something that happened to me, but something that happened to Perfect Husband yesterday. He drives for a wine and beer distributor, delivering to various shops and bars. As there is rather a large problem with alcoholism here in Alaska, he is usually welcomed warmly by the patrons of each bar he delivers to; sometimes people have even saluted him when he drives in to the car park; amusing but sad... Often when he goes into a bar at 11am with his delivery there will be people in there drinking already. It's rather sad to waste your every waking minute slowly killing yourself in a dark, smoke filled bar in the middle of nowhere, but each to his own I suppose.
Yesterday Perfect Husband entered a bar on his usual delivery route, and there sitting in a dark corner was a rather wizened old lady who is always there; she doesn't normally speak to him but yesterday she told him she thought he had lovely skin. Needless to say, this strange "compliment" disturbed him rather, and for the rest of the day he was concerned that she might have been making plans to turn him into a lampshade or something similar. After we had discussed this I reassured him that, as his wife, if anyone was going to turn him into a lampshade it would be me, but I have a theory that this wizened old crone is actually a witch, and is devising a plan to capture Perfect Husband, keep him in a cage and use his tears in her spells. (That is what witches almost always do with tears, don't ask me how I know this, I just do.)
So today's picture is my illustration of said witch and her dastardly plans for my poor, innocent husband. It will be a shame if this does actually happen, because he does all the cooking and also reaches things down for me off high shelves.
I will miss him.

The Thing Under My Bed...

“The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn't real. I know that, and I also know that if I'm careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.”
― Stephen King, Night Shift    

This is the genius of Stephen King; he has a knack of tapping into those fears we all have inside us. This is one of my favourite quotes from him, and I mentioned it to Perfect Husband the other day, and thus we had a big conversation about how incredibly true this is! I bet most of us are completely fine getting into and out of bed when there's company in the house; but when we are alone how many of us take a flying leap from the doorway straight onto the bed, or sternly tell ourselves there's nothing there and we are not children any more but Grown Ups, yet we still move like lightning when at the last minute our resolve snaps and we are 6 years old again, and there is most definitely Something Under The Bed. I can tell you for certain that each night when I bend down to plug my iphone into the charger next to the bed if there are a pair of eyes staring out at me...
a. I will not be at all surprised
b. There will be a Claire-shaped hole in the wall, reminiscent of those old Tom and Jerry cartoons
Fortunately so far this hasn't happened, but you have to be prepared.
So today's Work of Art is my rendition of those bedtime moments....

Space Odyssey.....!!

So did you all watch the skies last night for the meteor shower? During my day in Alaska my Facebook feed was full of my British friends reporting seeing shooting stars, so I wrote myself a note which simply said "Meteor Shower!" and stuck it to my Elmo sandwich box so that I would be reminded when I got home from work. Alaska is 9 hours behind the UK so I was hopeful we might see something that night...
So at 11:30pm we all trooped outside; myself, Perfect Husband, Whiney Dog, and Small Dog. Perfect Husband and I sat in garden chairs with our faces turned upwards towards the Heavens, he wearing a light jacket, and me wearing boots, thick jacket and Small dog on my lap, a large fluffy blanket over us both. Whiney Dog lay on the ground wishing for food.
We waited. And waited. The skies were covered in a thin veil of clouds, and we felt sure we wouldn't see anything at all. But after a while the clouds started to clear away revealing a few stars, so we sat in silence and enjoyed the view, and the peace and quiet. Then suddenly a huge bright meteor streaked across the sky, like lightening! How thrilling! And even though we waited out there in the hopes of more, and didn't see any, we were still happy to have seen just that one. Happy to be a tiny part of the Grand Scheme of Things and to take the time to stop and appreciate the wonders of the Cosmos.
In other news, there was a lady wearing pink pajamas on the bus this morning, also a man wearing a most peculiar hat, and the Grand Finale was a Mad Lady who was muttering loudly to herself and thanking God very profusely for all his work...... I wonder if she'd also sat out in her garden and seen that same meteor, and thought it was some kind of message......who knows? She spent the majority of the bus journey saying "ooh" in various voices...
Today's pic is my artist's impression of our star gazing experience.......

Style Icon!

Ok, so I know I promised I would not turn into a Bindi-bore but...........
She's just so cute I can't help it!! So please accept my apologies but today's blog is another Bindi-blog. We live in Alaska. I may have mentioned this to you before, and in Alaska it gets bloody cold. I mean like step outside and you'll die kind of cold. At least that's what it feels like to me, being British; we get a lot of rain and chilly, damp days in Britain and most Winters we'll get an inch or two of snow and the whole country grinds to a halt. Transport is thrown into chaos, and schools are closed because the staff cannot get there- hilarious!
 However in Alaska, the cold isn't the damp kind of cold but the evil I-will-kill-you-if-you-remain-outside-for-more-than-three-minutes-without-survival-gear-on kind of cold. I myself wear the world's biggest Parka on my way to the bus stop when it is Winter here; with the deep collar up and the hood on only my eyes are exposed to the air and fortunately they haven't frozen shut in the two Winters I've been here. So how will my 7 pound Chihuahua cope with the fact that she has an outside bathroom ie the garden? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, meanwhile she shivers in August when I take her outside in the garden for five minutes so at the weekend myself and Perfect Husband were on a mission to buy her a warm jacket or similar. We went to FIVE petshops before we found anything suitable "oh no we don't have our cold weather dog clothing in yet" they all said..... Oh HELLOOO this is Alaska for goodness' sake- granted we actually had a beautiful Summer here but it's pretty clear that's come to an end and we're now in the Monsoon season (remember me getting soaked to and from the bus stop by selfish/blind/texting drivers plowing through lake-sized puddles??) and my poor baby can hardly pee because she's shivering so violently. Luckily we found a snug little blue jumper which is a perfect fit and keeps her warm and toasty, she may not be in complete agreement about wearing it outside, but at least she's shivers no more. Winter's another story though; am scouring Ebay for Arctic Chihuahua gear!

It's Friday!!

So, it's been a mixed week; we have a new dog so there has been some settling in to do.....supervision of peeing and pooing (there's something that feels so wrong about standing silently in the garden in the rain watching a tiny dog poo); trying different tactics to get our pint sized picky eater to ingest enough nourishment (perfect husband took to lying on the floor pretending to eat from her bowl whilst making slurping noises last night-where's the camera when I need it?) and trying to persuade her that every time we go out in the car we are not taking her back to the rescue place so she has no need to shake and whimper with fear. All in all it's going pretty well, she even let Perfect Husband dress her up ET style, and that is today's pic, oh so cute!
In other news we went to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers on Monday night; one word- Lush! In the UK this word is not used to describe someone who is an alcoholic, but rather it describes someone or something that is gorgeous, lovely, amazing, and other similar positive and admiring type words. And Anthony Kiedis, in all his shirtless and tattooed glory is just that; lush. I was so pleased that they lived up to my expectations; they are so good at what they do. They sounded great and Kiedis and Flea bounded around the stage like schoolboys. They don't need scores of dancers and backing singers and manic costume changes to entertain a crowd, they just do what they do, and that is more than enough.
Um, what else happened? Oh yes, as Perfect Husband had been driving me to work and back (he had some time off work this week) I hadn't been using the bus. So when I did for the first time this week on Wednesday, the lady bus driver asked me where I had been and told me she had missed me! And that's what it's like here in Anchorage; a small, somewhat quirky place where perfect strangers chat to each other without thinking twice about it. Sometimes I like it, and sometimes (when it's a somewhat drunken and toothless Homie) I don't like it too much, but I find as long as you're polite, nobody gets hurt!
I also got drenched from head to toe on Wednesday. I had got off the bus and was walking home, it had been raining and the road I have to walk down appears to be slowly sinking in the middle, causing it to be like a V shaped channel with a small river running down the middle. Naturally any cars that drive along this road in either direction spray anyone who happens to be on foot. Most of the decent people will slow down, but there's always one individual that no doubt is too busy texting to notice someone else besides them using the road, or else they are just plain mean. Needless to say one such mean spirited individual actually sped up as they approached me; the puddle water actually hit me in the ear, in my hair, on my cheek, coat, skirt and boots. I hope Karma finds them........ accidents I can deal with and forgive, but deliberate meanness? Not so much.
And finally; if you have BBC America, watch Broadchurch! It has been on in the UK, to great acclaim, and now they are showing it on BBC America so I can watch it (I don't think they put it on especially for me; but you never know....) and it's oh so gripping!
Enjoy your weekend, and here's my little ET......

Chillin with Bindi...

Oh no! Am I turning into a dog bore? I have a feeling I may be........
We adopted Bindi the 7 year old Chihuahua last Friday, so tomorrow she will have been with us for a whole week, and so far, so good. I am only 4 feet 11 inches tall, and weigh 98 pounds, so she is the perfect Claire-sized dog. I have no desire to be knocked off my feet by a huge enthusiastic hound! Bindi is my pint-sized companion, and follows me everywhere. I will be doing something, I will turn around, and there is my tiny friend, sitting quietly as you please, just watching me. When I come home from work, she suddenly morphs into a Mexican jumping bean, literally bouncing off the furniture with excitement and doing the wall of death around the room. She has a huge smile on her face and she even sounds happy when she pants! What a beautiful welcome; I tell you it makes my day. So far she is a constant source of amusement; I understand small dog syndrome perfectly, just ask Perfect Husband if I am a shy retiring wallflower who is afraid to speak her mind! So it would seem me and Bindi have a lot in common.
So today's photo is Bindi doing one of her favourite things; snuggling under a blanket with me and snoozing happily. She is a dear little creature, and I'm glad she's happy with us. So many of these dogs get abandoned or mistreated, and I never thought I would adopt one. Partly because I never thought I'd ever own a dog; I've always been a cat person (by this I don't mean a person who is a cat in disguise, but a person who prefers cats to dogs...) and partly because I had always thought that with a rescue dog you don't really know what you're taking on, but to be honest, you can take just the same risk with a puppy anyway.

Donnie Earface!

It's a dog blog again, only this time it's not my dog. The dog in question belongs to one of my coworkers, who loves dogs but hates technology, so she had her 16 year old granddaughter take a couple of photos of Donnie the dog, and once the photos had been looked at, it became apparent that if you look closely at Donnie's left ear, there's a small face in it!
It's not a case of "I saw Jesus in my dog's ear" but it's pretty amusing all the same, and I thought you might like it.

Ooh, sparkly......

With reference to my drunken ebay spree recently,
http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6775058172846695726#editor/target=post;postID=9086849793708907687;onPublishedMenu=overview;onClosedMenu=overview;postNum=8;src=postname
the bracelet I bought has arrived!! It is so very pretty, I thought I would put a photo on here so it can be admired by many....
I shall most likely be reincarnated as  magpie, and spend my next life stealing people's treasures to line my nest with. Or I might become the world's first ebaying magpie, who knows? Anything is possible.
Here is a photo of my lovely and splendid bracelet........

Bindi is here!

Bindi is here! Bindi is here! My heart is now the property of a small dog- who'd have thought it possible? She is a seven year old chihuahua who needed a new home, and hopefully we're the answer...... She arrived this morning and so far she has sniffed most of the house, left a small pool of pee in the kitchen, explored the garden, modelled her new pink harness, run up and down the stairs approximately twelve times, showed how good she is at jumping up onto the settee, and eaten some dog treats. She is currently sleeping on my legs, and oh the joy of a small warm dog to keep my feet toasty!

The best bit is she doesn't judge me on my poor choice of afternoon movie- I am at present watching an appallingly predictable slash fest concerning some young beautiful students and an axe wielding murderer in a hooded coat. It's terrible, and I should know better but Bindi doesn't mind one bit. I think this could work out.....

Cry Wolf!!

Ok so it was not an actual wolf, but it sure looked like one! I was walking home yesterday evening in the sunshine. I was in a particularly happy mood as a lady on the bus had spent a good five minutes admiring my dress and hair flower, complimenting me on the fact that every time she sees me I always look lovely, and so on until it almost got embarrassing for everyone else on the bus who apparently hadn't had the same effect on her. Anyway, I got to the end of our street when I saw a Big Dog of the wolfy/husky looking variety in someone's front driveway. It had a collar on and I thought it belonged to that house, but then it headed straight towards me. I DO NOT like big dogs (that's why I'm adopting a Chihuahua tomorrow) and I told myself sternly not to make eye contact with it, lest it took that as an invitation to come over and eat me. Wolf Dog casually trotted along the street with me, detouring into other people's driveways, then finally into mine. We have a three foot fence that separates the front and back gardens so that dogs apart from my husband's own pooch (Whiney Dog) can't enter the back garden, but apparently Wolf Dog wasn't aware of this rule. It simply hopped straight over the fence as if it wasn't even there and began to investigate a poo that Whiney Dog had thoughtfully left there that morning. I raced into the house and slammed the door in case the Wolf Dog hopped back over the fence and decided to follow me into the house and eat me there. Whiney Dog, who had been in all day as usual while me and Perfect Husband were at work, came down the stairs in readiness to be let out for a pee as is usual. I couldn't possibly let her out in case the Wolf Dog ate her, and I did actually explain this to her, but she just looked confused and desperate for a pee, in equal measures.
Wolf Dog then decided it needed to have a drink from our pond, and the sudden movement in the garden caused Whiney Dog to notice this Trespasser, whereupon she was so outraged she threw herself at the glass door with such force and fury I honestly thought she might go sailing right through it! Wolf Dog took the hint and ran away, but I wasn't taking any chances. I ventured outside on my own to make sure that the coast was clear for Whiney Dog to finally have her much needed pee. Satisfied that Wolf Dog had indeed gone I called out to Whiney Dog, but apparently the excitement had been too much for her and I finally found her under our bed in a state of such confusion it was almost comical. I finally persuaded her it was safe to go outside, and I stood guard while she alternately peed then sniffed her way around the whole garden. Suddenly Wolf Dog reappeared in the street so I screamed at Whiney Dog to get inside before either of them noticed each other and commenced a great battle.
I looked out of the front window to see one of our irritating neighbours (Fat Lady Who Shouts At Her Offspring) staring stupidly at the Wolf Dog while one of her daughters threw pieces of pepperoni after it. At first I thought she was trying to defeat the Wolf Dog by means of a cunning plan of feeding it overly salted processed junk food until its heart exploded, thereby rendering the neighbourhood a Wolf Free Zone, but it appears that this is actually their pet and as they simply have no way of controlling it or training it they were using this method to try and tempt it back home. The Wolf Dog sensing its freedom, carried on running. I actually wish it luck, judging by the stupidity of its owners it will get better care elsewhere. I only hope it doesn't come back tomorrow, as there will be a new canine addition to our household, in the form of a rehomed seven year old Chihuahua, and I can't help but worry that Wolf Dog might see her as some sort of appetizer.......