Tilting At Windmills

Cley Windmill

At The End of My Tether

Hi folks, this is it, the last few days of my Norfolk incarceration, soon I’ll be “Kidnapped in Longcross” wherever that is – to be honest, it sounds just as remote, but a little bird tells me that Heidi and Lupt will be there, so it’s not all bad.

I know some of you think that I’ve been tilting at windmills where the ogre is concerned, but that’s simply not true. Yes, he feeds me, and gives me treats, he takes me out for hours every day, even when I don’t want to go, and yes, I end up enjoying myself. Yes, he even gave up running because he doesn’t like leaving me on my own for hours at a time and all because I sat and waited by the front door the only time he did.

And, yes he gave me a haircut when I was getting too hot, but then he gave me a bath on two consecutive days just because I rolled in a dead fish I found on the beach – I like to smell of fish.

Yes, he has been very patient when we’re out and it takes me twenty minutes to walk five yards because I simply have to sniff absolutely every blade of grass, lamppost, dustbin and anything else that takes my fancy, and yes he gives me a fish stick for lunch every day, and you all know how much I love those treats.

So what! I’d do the same for a dog!

It has been great talking to you every week, even if no one actually bothered to rescue me, and I will see most of you soon in the land of the Long Cross.

Sniff you later

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Monty

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