….yes she is and I am hugely embarrassed. As you know, I got clipped when I was away. Well, Claire gave me the same clip as she gives me in the summer (i.e. SERIOUSLY short) because mum thought it would be ok. Our house is snug and when we go out for a walk I can run around and keep warm because mum always takes me where I can go ‘off lead’. The trouble is, on Friday the under-floor heating in the kitchen stopped working.
When things stop working in France it is a BIG thing for mum. In France, things tend to stop working either for good or for a VERY long time. Mum’s experience with French tradesmen is this i) find one who wants to actually do some work (will take at least three weeks), ii) persuade said tradesman to come to house to look at problem (usually takes at least six telephone calls), iii) French tradesman cancels first three appointments, iv) when said tradesman finally turns up he is late, v) French tradesman huffs and puffs, looks very serious and says it is a very difficult job, vi) French tradesman can’t fit job in for another six weeks, vii) when French tradesman finally does the job it takes all of two minutes and as she hands over €1000 mum realises that she’s been seriously fleeced and for a fleeting second wishes that she still lived in the UK where she would never have allowed any tradesmen to fleece her but in the UK she didn’t have what she calls “…the language barrier…”. The trouble is, mum is crap at DIY and Uncle Hugh is even worse. Mum can change a light bulb; Uncle Hugh can if he’s supervised.
Anyway, I’m digressing. So, the under-floor heating conks out and in this part of France, we are experiencing a seriously cold snap. And I mean seriously cold. Uncle Hugh had told mum his car had registered minus 10 on Thursday morning and Friday wasn’t much warmer. Yesterday morning as mum and Uncle Hugh were having breakfast mum looked at me and said, as if she were REALLY surprised, “…Oh my God, he’s shivering...” I’m thinking ‘...yes I fooking am, it’s bloody freezing.You two are rugged up to the eyeballs and I’ve only got two millimeters of fur between the freezing air and my skin, why are you so surprised?” But obviously I couldn’t say that so she kept saying, “Oh my God, he’s shivering. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have told her to clip him so close. Oh, I’m so STUPID. What can I do?” I’m thinking “...you can feed me some of that croissant and butter that you’re eating, that’d put some fuel in my belly…” but no, I got my usual meagre portion of Royal Canin – I put weight on last Summer and for some reason mum still thinks I need to watch what I eat. Does she not realise that one needs to increase one’s calorie intake in the winter months? In the Arctic, the scientists there have to eat 9000 calories a day just to maintain their weight. I’m digressing again.
Well, to cut a very long story short we went shopping (I’ll not bother telling you about going to see Uncle Hugh’s new flying bus and mum’s hair setting on fire when a burning ember from the open fire at the Aeroclub flew out and landed on her head). Mum and Uncle Hugh took me with them in the car because they thought it might be a bit cold for me if they left me in the house. When we got back home, she presented me with what she called a ‘baby-gro’. “Sorry Henry,” she said, “...it was all I could find at short notice, the pet place didn’t have anything your size...” and she proceeded to dress me in this PINK monstrosity complete with butterfly and teddy-bear motifs on the front of it and she had the cheek to say “That’s better. Isn’t it lovely? Doesn’t he look cute? I wish I had a camera.”
I WISH I HAD A CAMERA? SHE MUST BE KIDDING! I am SERIOUSLY embarrassed and am praying to God Rex that this cold snap goes very quickly. Why couldn’t she have got me something ‘designer’? Something chic? Something cool? I found these on the internet Dog Designer Gear – you must check it out – they’re even being modelled by a Schnauzer like me.
But no – I have to wear a ‘baby-gro’. Will I ever live this down?
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