I want to say here and now that a lot of the Pets ( and possibly some children) have arrived on my doorstep without prior consultation or agreement with myself. It seems to be the way. I had decided that Llamas might make my life easier and keep the grass short but they seem to have turned out to be a rather bad tempered lot and I don’t know why. Additionally Lovely Man (LM) seems to keep cutting the grass every other day and trying to make them redundant. A case of spite, if ever I saw one!
As you know, Pete (aka Petronella in his more feminine moments) can be extremely testy and hiss and spit without due cause. He has also, as you may recall, taken to biting the top off the fence posts which is ok on my side of the boundary but of course not on the neighbours.
The neighbours are slightly ” anal” anyway and yesterday shouted at me. He said he didn’t know why I couldn’t be happy with a cat and leave it at that. He said he was fed up with the chickens clucking and the Llamas making a noise if I was late with the feed. I thought I could easily get into a slanging match and say the last time I invited him in with his kids, they spilt orange juice all over my sofa and smeared their sticky fingers up my windows. But I didn’t… he was lucky
So I am in the doghouse with neighbour and I am in the dog house with the Llamas. Now their problem is that they don’t like wind and Boy is it windy here at the moment. Currently I think the wind has ramped up to 65 miles an hour and as we live right on the foreshore you can see my problem. I tried to take Pete out for a walk today, complete with bridle and harness should be slip away, but he wasn’t keen. He kept snapping at the wind as if it was an offending branch instead of realising that it was, like most men, slightly illusive
I was very gentle and tried to encourage him to walk along The Boardwalk but he flatly refused and you all know what Llamas are like when they dig their heels in, literally and metaphorically. When they say ” No” – believe me ” its no!”
So there I was on the boardwalk trying to look to all the world as if it was where I wanted to be with Hurricane Imogen or who ever it is this week blowing up from the West; the tide about to burst up and onto the Boardwalk and Pete just sitting there. However hard I tugged on his bridle he wouldn’t budge. I thought as he was a typical man he might well be led by his stomach so I had an idea to run home and get him something special to eat. However what I was worried about doing was leaving him unattached on the Boardwalk in case another stupid human came along and took him.
So I phoned to Mohamed who only wants him to put on the BBQ and tried to ask him nicely to sit with Pete whilst I go home and find something nice. Mohamed was also another man who wasn’t for turning and finished the call with double speed once he knew a (live) Llama was involved. My only other option was to drag him along the Boardwalk a little way – and allowing him to continue to snap at the wind, see if I could get Beryl’s attention. I know she usually has one or four Sundowners in her Conservatory about this time and she may well be looking my way.
As luck would have it, she was seated there and even if she had already downed the equivalent of a Sailors monthly ration of Rum she was more than happy to look after Pete and came out and took the Bridle. I explained to her slowly that she was not to let go of him and to ensure he didn’t move, unless it was in the direction of my house. She assured me she was listening and could I bring her drink out if I was going to be more than ten minutes.
I wasn’t convinced but didn’t have a lot of choice and wound the bridle twice around her wrist. I also told her to sit on the Bench and wrap the Bridle around it should Pete been inclined to head off in the wrong direction. Pete however was still very satisfied snapping at the wind and so I thought I would have plenty of time.
So you can understand my absolute amazement when I came back after only 7 minutes and found the bloody Llama sitting patiently next to Beryl on the bench and her tickling him under the chin. ” he is a lovely animal, isn’t he?” she chuntered at me. What was it that Beryl had that I didn’t with Pete and his management? In fact when I got closer I could see that Pete was positively dopey and falling asleep. I tried to move him but he wasn’t budging and in fact I could swear he was snoring.
“Beryl… what have you done to Pete. He wont move!”
“Oh, wont he? I wonder if its the rum he sipped. I thought he might appreciate a tot on a cold day like today, especially as he is out on the Beach. We shared it” she whispered like conspirators.
No wonder Pete didn’t move. He was in an alcoholic stupor, induced by Beryl, who is indeed as stupid as she looks. Between us we both tried to get him to stand up but he was ” well away” by then and indeed had rolled over onto his back. This guy was NOT going to move anytime soon…….
I called Mohamed again and said he needed to hot foot it down to the Beach and pronto! As you can guess he wasn’t pleased and came dragging his patent heels along with Alaedene. Both of them look at Pete and burst into laughter. There was nothing for the four of us to do but to try to carry him home and leave him in the garden to sober up. If he has a headache and is slightly testy in the morning, I am going to blame Beryl.
In the meantime, I read my e mails and found one from The Pilot. ” don’t keep telling stories about me in your blogs. I have an image to keep up and telling the “Getting Arrested” story again, will not make me happy! I am a VP Flight Ops, and it affords a certain gravitas with the position” he whined at me.
As I said earlier, I was in the doghouse with The Neighbour, Pete and now the Pilot
If Beryl has any more of that rum left, its coming my way…..