Guest Blogger: Puppy Dog on the continuing, rambling phone messages my mother insists on leaving…

Star date: 20080604

The fortress is secure having banished the evil hordes- all right, the mailman, back to the shadowy depths of hell from whence he came. The squirrels are proving more troublesome as they barricade themselves behind a forcefield in the wall. But the Mistress will be home soon and after refreshments and a good belly rub, we will commence with the afternoon inspection of the perimeter and then, then those blasted vermin will get their just due…

“(Mistress’s Name)! It’s yer mudder! Pick up! Pick up ta phone!”

Blast! Not the voice from the box again! Why does she insist on tormenting me during my quiet time of reflection and log entries? I have work to do woman! Back! Back to the netherworld of banshees and malevolent spirits with you! Back I say!

“Oh, you should see the rain here! It’s pissing I tell ya, pissing rain! Been trapped in the pub wit yer Uncle Lorry most of the afternoon. But we’re consoling ourselves with some lovely pints. Ah, is nofin bedder tan a pint of Bulmers ta raise yer spirit?”

The wretched squirrels must be employing some new torture technique. Oh, I say, that voice doesn’t even sound human! Oh, my ears!

“…but yer damn fodder talked me out of packing my Wellies and dare I stood. In ta middle of the stalls. Knee deep is all sorts of muck and shat. But ta horses were lovely, oh, just lovely, I used ta ride did ya know? Yer grandfodder took me and yer Aunt Mary every Tersday to the riding grounds…”

Oh, will the voice never stop?!

“…and then we just laaaaaaaaaaughed, and laaaaaaaaughed! And I called out to him ‘miss yer boat did ya?’ and we just laaaaaughed and laaaaughed some more…”

Must protect the Mistress! She can not be exposed such danger!

“…and really, ya should see all ta Polacks runnin’ about. Ta think, people actually move here now! I remember ta place being so poor no one would bathe because they’d need the dirt on their necks for topsoil…”

A protective film of slobber and-there! The sound is muffled! The fortress once more secured.

“…and so I was tellin Uncle Lorry about yer animal and we’re both in agreement that one maniacal beast in the house is quite enough, thank you very much, and yes, I am referring to you. How (Sailor Man) puts up wit yer nonsense is beyond all reason. All righty then, tell (Sailor Man) his old mudder in law sends her love. And you give yer old beast a cookie for me. Okay now, buh-bye.”

Nap time.

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