Up At The Crack

Dear O'H dear and Lovely Tea Jenny,

Murphy sleeps in our room when we stay with Penny and Albert. The only drawback is that Murphy’s idea of playtime and getting up time differs slightly from mine. By several hours. One of us thinks that 4:57 am is a great time for face licks. The other is Murphy.

Ok, that last bit might not be true but it was the start of a loop...

1. Me starting to wake up, realising that there is hot breathing on my face
2. Opening my eyes, prompting a “thud, thud, thud” of enthusiastic tail wagging against the wall.
3. Mumbling “Murphy. Bed!”
4. A big doggy sigh followed by Murphy padding back to his bed, circling round several times, flopping down, giving another big sigh and the immediate commencement of very loud snoring*.
5. Me, lying awake for at least 20 mins before dozing off again.
6. Wait five more mins.
7. Repeat 1-6.

Eventually I realised that resistance was futile.

Despite my reluctance to get up, I am always fine the minute I get out of the door. It’s just the thought of actually getting out of bed and getting clothes on** that I hate.

We couldn’t go into the forest as IT WAS STILL PITCH BLACK so we wandered into Banchory to the park and threw the ball***.

The five of us headed back home and had a lovely chilled afternoon. We all watched The Death Of Stalin in the evening which we thought was pretty good.

I love coming home.

C

*Murphy, not me. I still think he was awake and faking it - “That’ll teach you for not getting up.”

**Important not to miss out this step

***Me, not Murphy!