Alimentary, My Dear

No, not a mis-spelling of "Elimentary", or some Sherlock Holmes plot - but a tale of gurgling guts and number two's. (Ach - and before Supper, too!)

News comes from the one-time agarophobic Alsatian pup Keira, that she had, last night, for the first time ever, not "used her newspaper" in the kitchen overnight. When released in the morning she shot out onto the grass and did the necessary, but got heaps of praise from Xena and husband for being "clean through the night" - Well Done Keira!

Xena was also amusing them all at dad's work, with a story (including mime-acting) of a walk they had done. Apparently Keira still hates stairs and steps, so she gets to the front door and freezes, cringing, fearful of the three steps down to the front path, but once she's lifted down those she is now enjoying her walks. Yesterday, says Xena, she had a nice bounce around a small paddock with another local dog, and still had plenty of energy to bounce around with Tigger, aka Mia the labradoodle when they got home

The gurgling guts are those of Haggis tonight, who is off his supper and producing quite a resounding line in "Symphonia Gastrica" gurgles and ...um.... emanations. We don't know what's upset him but he was trying to eat grass while out on the walk, didn't touch his supper, and is now looking all "wounded soldier" at passing humans.

Worse thing is, Dad won't give out the dried tripe-strips to Meg and I while H is incapacitated, as it wouldn't be fair. We have to wait till he's better. Spoilsport!

The ever-sympathetic
Deefer