Twittering

I’m on dog duty this morning and I set off for a short wander with the boys. We’re hardly out of the front door when we come across a chap and his wife pointing a pair of binoculars at the window of one of the houses at the end of the street. How odd. Particularly as I’m sure there’s nothing worth spying on over there.

‘I’ve never seen one like that before’, the chap says rather loudly as I pass, as if this was an appropriate explanation.

I’m sure you have mate, I think to myself, its age you know, you forget.

‘I’ve never seen a bird like that’ he continues, ‘and I’ve been twittering for thirty years’.

Twittering? Is he sure that’s what he means. Is this the new buzz word for voyeurism?

‘There look’, he says pointing, as a bird flies out of the tree in front of the house he has his binoculars trained on.

I think he means twitching but then again I wouldn’t have wanted someone to come up to me in the street and confess that they’ve been ‘twitching for thirty years’ either. The boys and I cross over to the other side of the street and continue our walk.

Before he can compete in agility, MD need either a microchip, a tattoo or a passport style photo for his agility licence. They don’t encourage the use of photos, it’s not very high tech and I suppose the usual rules apply. You know, look straight at the camera, eyes open, no glasses or hats, no smiling, grinning, frowning or raised eyebrows, with mouth closed etc etc, which is all far too much like hard work for a dog.

I also can’t see MD sporting a tattoo, he’s just not that sort of dog. Although it might be worth it just so that he’s the first one in the house to get one. It might even make Daughter jealous. Perhaps the vet could do them both at the same time... perhaps not. So a chip it is then.

When I get him there, he’s all friends with the vet, in his naivety. That is until the vet gets the big needle out and sticks it in MD's neck. MD promptly tries to leapt into my arms for protection. Bless.

A few seconds later it’s over and no harm down. It will take more than a needle to keep MD's spirits down for long.

That done, I plan a short run, because I ought to do something to loosen up before Sunday’s race. L says she ought to do the gym, so we organise a dog-and-clothes-exchange at the gym.

So after her session, I meet her outside the gym where she takes some clothes and the dogs off me whilst I go off for a dog-free run. Then we meet up again outside the Victoria. It's a bit like a relay with the dogs as the baton and a beer at the end of it.