The Vanishing

The other morning I let Penny out for a pee.

She's a strange dog in that pissing seems to be very low on her list of priorities.  Personally I like a good flow, first thing – it's all part of the wake-up ritual.

After a while I realised there was no sign of her.

One thing I like about that dog is that she seems to lack any interest in anything outside the garden, so I don't have to spend my time blocking holes in hedges and fences. That morning though she didn't do her usual act of throwing herself bodily at the glass door to try to get back in.

I went out into the garden to see if there was any sign.  There wasn't.

There was a strange bloke up on my garage roof so I asked him if he had seen a white dog.  He hadn't.

I asked the strange bloke if he might have let the dog out when he came in the gate.  He said he didn't.

I went out onto the lane, but still no sign.  I decided to go back and get my coat as it was chilly.  There was the fucking dog sitting on the back step waiting to get in.  Where the fuck does she go?  How can a dog completely vanish and then reappear again?

Later on that day the phone rang.

That startled me a little as the phone has been broken for ages.

Then it dawned on me.

That's what the strange bloke was doing on my garage roof.  He was fixing the phone.  I did wonder at the time what the fuck he was doing there.

I'm glad that's settled.

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Comments

The Vanishing — 17 Comments

  1. You mean you didn't ask the strange man what he was doing on your garage roof?

     

    I sometimes think your a bit odd.

     

    But in a nice way of course.

    How was the "screw" yesterday/ Satisfyingly slow I trust!!

  2. You think that's bad – we had a cat years ago called Caesar, a black tabby who slept in the back kitchen at night. We let him out one morning as usual, in 1971, and we have not seen him since. Mind you, around the same time, I had a date with a girl called Mary, and she excused herself during the second drink, to go to the loo, and I have not seen her since either.

    Maybe she settled down with Caesar ?

    • With all due respects, I hope Caesar doesn't come back.  Thirty two year old cats tend not to smell very nice.  Maybe the same could be said for Mary too?

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