Diary of an Edinburgher

By LadyMarchmont

Archie Olympics

Well, the Games are over. And what a spectacle they were. How am I going to cope while doing my stretching exercises on the sofa? I may need to read a book...

JR and Rufus's mum went to a Fringe show this afternoon and declared it to be superb. Edith Piaf. Rufus did not come to cry here this time, but stayed at home to look out the window for two hours - he hasn't been well, so it was best he stayed home.

We took Archie up the hill this afternoon. Well, I staggered up to the nearest bench and sat in the sun, while the others did the circuit. Again, when they came over the horizon, miles away, I used my whistle to call Archie. He ran the whole way, easier this time because he knew exactly where I was, even though he couldn't see me, and he only came into view when he was nearly there. Good boy.

He knows I'm very sad to see the end of the Olympics, so he has been amusing me with his own doggie Olympics, and he wins gold every time!

The sports are top left, clockwise:

Tug of war (with an illicit face cloth)
Burst the Ball (though he prefers his old ball
Kill the Washing Line (his favourite)
Catch the Carrot (also, Grab the Pea)

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