Paddy got so excited about the newly installed wi-fi that he insisted on doing a guest post. He does so little these days, how could I refuse him. This is what Paddy's got to say for himself:
I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever live a peaceful life. I try so hard to get my recommended 22 hours sleep a day but everyone's so demanding of me. When the Bitcher (God rest her scunge-dog soul) was alive she'd have me out all hours scunging the country. I quit all that nonsense though. Was a bit worried I'd get lost on my own and never come home again. Or get my head stuck in a bucket.
But, y'see, in this house as soon as one animal passes away they seem to think there's room for another and take in any oul' stray. Like that fecking ginger hoor-cat. If it's not harassing Hannah to the point where she's screaming blue murder at it, it's harassing the Good Cat (formerly known as Holly). There's no crueler sound to the dog's sensitive ear than the wailing of an irate woman and an upset she-cat. Maybe the clarinet.
So what with Bonnie Dog's constant blethering on about what a good time she had at the Mourne Mountains with Moms and Dawds, Hannah's scrawking at the ginger hoor-cat from Hell and Bert's incessant peep-peeping on the clarinet, how is a dog ever meant to get his 22 hours sleep a day?
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Poor Paddy Dog. I think he just needed to get that off his chest.
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