While the workmen have been stripping my bay windows at the front of the house the dogs have been pottering around in the back garden and snoozing in the sun.
I got home from the School of Hard Knocks early today. I was looking forward to taking Hetty for a romp in the park, it was such a soft and balmy afternoon. I was met at the door by a sober faced builder. Of course, that is not unexpected. Every day I seem to have been greeted with a mumbled
'we've got a problem luv.'
Which is usually a precursor to extra expense. Today though, it was serious. The retarded fuckwit had forgotten to shut the garden gate and my beautiful Hetty was missing. She'd been gone for hours. Words cannot express how devastated and utterly furious I was. I was sick with worry. The incompetent nincompoop went on to say
'aye luv, your phone has been ringing non-stop all afternoon an' all.'
'Did you not answer it?' I screamed.
'well I was up a ladder pet.' he exasperatingly replied.
I stormed off in floods of tears. My one hope, assuming Hetty was not run over, was that she had a collar with her name and number on. In the house I dialled 1471 and rang the last number. Thankfully it was a lovely lady who had seen Hetty running in the road and had managed to coax her in to her house. The poor mite was terrified. I rushed over to be reunited with the plucky pooch. She bounced 4 feet in the air when she saw me.
So. A happy ending. Hetty is home, safely tucked up on the sofa. How I am going to even look at that builder tomorrow I do not know. I swear, if I see that man up a ladder I am not sure I could resist the temptation to kick it from under him.