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| Me at the top of the new stairs |
Apols for sounding dramatic Henry fans, but it is true. One minute I was sniffing around the stadium, weeing up the grey gates and heading in the direction of Gillespie Park, the next, after a particularly cramped car journey, I'm in a big empty house. Were we on holiday here? Well, I thought so at first didn't I. But we've been in this big house now, which has stairs that are too steep for my legs, for one month now. It has all of our stuff in it. I'm beginning to suspect this is a permanent arrangement.
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| Me in new park |
How to feel about this? Hmm.. Well, as with everything. There are pluses and minuses. Pluses: It has a garden with diggy bits (called flowerbeds) and chewy stuff (called plants) - I'm not allowed to dig or chew these things... but I do; there are new sniffs; there is a cool park at the end of the road with new dogs in it, who are big and chasey; I can see out the front window onto the street, where people walk; there is an interesting black area in the lounge that is really nice and cool on my belly when I lie down; there is a really nice new soft furry rug in the bedroom for me to roll on.
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Me looking out of window from inside
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| Me looking out of window from outside |
Minuses: Bloody steep stairs everywhere one wants to go, the garden does not have grass, just paving, so not great for wees; I can see the people outside of the window but I can't always get them to notice me; I can see cats but I cannot chase them; mummy has erected something called a Henry gate between the kitchen and lounge, which is often closed when we get back from a walk and I'm muddy; no Jeanie; no nice concierge men.
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| Me in new digging pit (flowerbed - w'evs) |
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| Me lying on nice cold black thing in lounge |
So like I said, pluses and minuses. But then, there is this unsettled feeling in my tummy sometimes, like something else is about to happen, like all of this is just a precursor to something else. I reckon it is linked to the room with a door that is always closed that is full of toys that are not mine. I also reckon it might have to do with Mummy's huge tummy, which is so unfathomably large now that she has to sort of sling me over her shoulder a bit to carry me. It also means she can't bend down to catch me so easily or run to chase me - haha Mummy - you can't catch me. You are a fatty - haha. That's what I say to her sometimes when we are in the park. I'm only messing around, of course.
