There was a huge scene in the dog park, when R Next Door, who is so down on Staffies, got knocked off her feet by the affectionate lunge of Honey, a (half-grown, gods help us-) specimen of the robust breed. They're like tanks. She turned the ankle of her bad leg and let out a nightmarish scream before roundly abushing Honey and her human, to whom she apologised afterwards. She insisted she'd be OK to get upstairs on her own, and said she'd use her crutches to take the dogs to the Common...
CELEBRITY BIG BROTHER was won by Gary Busey, who gained the public's love by belching, farting, honking like a goose, saying "WHAT?" all the time, and sitting bareass in the kitchen trying to manipulate his dodgy knee.
I would have quite liked White Dee to get it, or Audley, the runner-up.
Almost time for CRIMES OF PASSION. Here are a few pages of scrawlings from my travel diary.
Come to think of it, silly humans need to pay more attention too, like that girl you warded off after the opera. I ought to have been more on the ball to deflect her, apologies Lee, my head is all over the place at the moment. Luckily you're stronger and fleeter of foot now and amply defended yourself bartitsu style.
Edited at 2014-09-15 08:23 pm (UTC)
QUite right about the dogs, of course. I've been hit by a flying staffie or two while exercising and mentally off with the fairies. Very frightening. Of course, I'm tank-like enough myself that I didn't quite go down. A lightweight like R or a kid, doesn't have much chance.