Super Pooch

This week has been productive. I got Ziggy's dog licence renewed (that means it's been a year since the Twits complained about Ziggy's early morning barking), oil to heat the house, issues in work sorted and I even had time to squeeze in a coffee date. I also caught up with Gus and we worked on the blues song, which has yet to be named. The course is going great and I've handed in my first bit of homework. I am very much the same kind of student I was 10 years ago, and that is the kind that leaves everything to the last minute. That's ok though because I procrastinate in style and I'm continously doing "research".

Last week went by in a flurry of annoyances at work and catching up with family. I had some class mates round for drinks on Wednesday night and I had pizza and cider with some work mates on Saturday night. When you're young you just have mates. When you get to a certain age you start to define your mates by how you know them. I still long for the day when I can write..."on Tuesday I went to the forest and climbed trees with my soul mates." It'll happen, I know it will.

Ziggy is officially no longer a devil dog. He is a super pooch. He has learned to relax more and he has realised it's nice to cuddle beside me. Our bond grows stronger every day and I no longer feel guilty for leaving the house without him. He is much more accepting than I ever gave him credit for. Also, the flatmate keeps him company a lot of the time. He has become the dog I dreamed of and, despite this, I found myself looking at him the other night and mourning his puppyhood. We humans are very strange indeed.