Archie saves us from an alien
Last night Archie kept barking periodically. Most unusual. On inspection, nothing seemed untoward. And the oft-times screeching students upstairs were all fast asleep. This morning we saw why - a little portable greenhouse thingie belonging to the neighbour had blown across the grass to near Archie's fence and part of it was flapping menacingly. Obviously an alien had landed and he had to protect us. Good boy.
A dreich day, so I put off going for a walk, thinking it might clear up. We played games, Archie helped to hang the washing up (not) and practised his new trick of waiting with the treats on his paws. But I need to get him to look at me, not the treats. Maybe a step too far for a food obsessive. He sort of is in this shot, but only because I'm holding another treat.
Eventually I thought the weather had cleared, and mentioned the magic word - 'walkies' but then I looked out properly and it was persisting down, but I couldn't back out of it - a wee expectant face kept following me, and I could not escape the accusing eyes boring into me.
'But you SAID walkies!!'
And so we had the whole putting green to ourselves, funnily enough. Archie chased seagulls and ran far and wide to favourite lampposts. I more or less stood in the middle and walked a hundred metres either way, flapping my arms to summon him. I hope nobody was watching.
We're back home, and it evidently wasn't a big enough walk - he's charging round the hall and outside like a demented wet rat. Just as well I took this photo before we went out. He's not so endearing when he's drookit. None of us are.
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