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Saturday, March 28, 2009

Calling Dr. Doolittle!

Does anyone have Dr. Doolittle's phone number? I need his help. I need someone to talk to my animals and explain to them, better than I can, why mischief, mayhem and theft are all VERY BAD.

I decided to have a clear-out of my cupboards, with the impending arrival of my cousin, who is now arriving on Monday, not Tuesday. You know the kind of thing I mean. I bagged up herbs bearing the use-by date June 2005, five year old fish stock cubes that were horrid, but kept 'just in case' and so-called healthy cereal bought on special offer, but hardly touched due to its being indistinguishable from gerbil food. I also realised I'd forgotten to clean the bath out after bathing Jake, so I poured a few inches of water and a few capfuls of disinfectant into the bath, and decided to let it soak for a few minutes. I must add, at this point, that housework is not my forte.

I then decided to take the bin to the top of the garden, ready to put out for the bin men (garbage collectors). At that moment, the phone rang. It was a friend, with some tasty gossip. She was on the phone for about forty minutes. When she hung up, I realised Jake was nowhere to be seen. Then, I heard the ominous shuffling of plastic, as I headed back to the kitchen. That varmint of a dog had emptied out the contents of the bin bag all over the kitchen. He'd chewed a couple of cereal packets open, along with a quarter of a bag of out of date wholemeal flour, and strewn the contents everywhere. Bits of soggy paper and cardboard also littered the floor, as well as shredded camomile tea bags, which I'd bought a couple of years ago, and found to be utterly vile.

Not only did my kitchen and dining room look like a landfill site, but my newly shampooed and fluffed up little dog looked like he'd had a food fight with Windy Miller. He was caked in flour and cereal grains. 'You bad dog', I scolded. 'Get out of my kitchen. NOW!' He went, and I got on with cleaning up his mess. When all was restored to respectability, I realised Jake was missing again.

I found him sloshing around in the disinfectant solution in the bath. I think he realised he was due for another shower. I got rid of the disinfectant - luckily, it was of the antiseptic kind, so not too harsh. I re-bathed the dog, and as he raced around like a mad fool, I decided to make a sandwich. I'd just buttered the bread, when the damn phone went again. It was only a quick call this time, and I returned to the kitchen, to continue making my sandwich. To my horror, my cat, Liberty, was up on the kitchen work surface, licking the soya spread off my bread. Arrrrrgggghhhh! So if anyone has Dr. Doolittle's number - I really need his help.

4 comments:

Aileni said...

Don't let George and Jake get together.

jams o donnell said...

Hold on... where's the blue meanie in all of this?

LadyBanana said...

Haha, that made me really laugh out loud, especially the food fight with Windy Miller.. lol

They are definitely giving you the run-around!

Siani said...

Aileni - I suspect Jake and George are secretly in touch, exchanging tips on how to create domestic mayhem.

Jams - mercifully, the blue meanie was out somewhere, no doubt killing or maiming some small mammal.

Lady B - they're driving me insane - or insaner, as some would insist!

 
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