It's a cold night, Dear

Don't you just love that (probably apocryphal) story, that the Inuit (story probably dates from when they were called eskimoes!) judge the coldness of the night by how many dogs they need to add to the bed. It's a cold night, Dear... chuck another dog on the bed! Well it's so mild here at the moment that these must be zero dog nights, but we are still allowed to sneak on board. It's a big bed!

Mum was joking with Dad that she'd be surprised if I didn't grow up thinking my name was 'K'off Deefer. The amount of times she shoo's me away with a choice expletive or two, and Dad, who likes a nice quiet sit on the "throne" in the morning (where-as I just have to try to get on his lap, or look over the side of the throne bowl to see where all the fascinating splashy noises and gorgeous (to a dog) smells are coming from) knows exactly where she's coming from.

Ah well - 'tis the weekend and I am promised a lovely walk in somewhere new, called King's Wood, if it's not tipping down tomorrow. Might even get my first ride in the 2CV

Deefer