31 December 2012

I’m telling you it was a woofin disgrace! Lady Doodles here on the dogvine reporting for hivine on the run up to Christmas. Yes, twas an absolute disgrace and I woof you no lies. Legless was the only way to describe her (my drunken Packmistress) after she fell through the door after knocking the vino back with all her ‘positive packmates’ at the ‘Thrivine’ Christmas bash, which took place at some Spanish tapas restaurant in Darwen. Not only was she legless, but downright stroppy to boot.

“I’m not taking my epifrigginvir or my retonofrigginvir or my duronofrigginvir or any frigginvir tonight,” she slurred, pouring herself a large whiskey. “I’m having a night off – Yes I am, and don’t look at me like that,” she shooed me out of the way with her posh going out as opposed to welly boots. “It’s the first night off I’ve had in TEN friggin years.”

I tried to tell her that that wasn’t wise for a woman of her age in her delicate (to put it politely) condition, but she wasn‘t having any of it.

“Mind your orangefrigbum out of my way donkeydoodles,” she cursed as she tripped over me, heading straight for her bed in order to lie down – best place for her. She was a total liability.

“Where’s my frig phone?” she emptied the contents of her bag, her pockets, her bra, on the bed. “OMG it’s not there – I must have left it on the dashboard of the car,” she panicked. She’d left the car parked on the street outside the restaurant in Darwen because she was too drunk to drive. People like her shouldn’t be let out on the razz or even let out unaccompanied alone. Apparently, I heard on the dogvine the next day, she was flinging her arms around in the Spanish restaurant doing her version of the sitting down flamenco and knocked the tray straight out of the waiter’s hands – tapas and meat balls all over the place. The camarero had to clear the whole table in case broken glass had got into anyone’s dinners and they had cause to sue. Shame me and smudgers weren’t there to help lick up the mess. I’m very partial to albondigas – balls to you humans who can’t speak Spanish, made of meat or whatever they put in them. She didn’t even bring me a doggy bag back – how mean can you get.

Anyway I would imagine that things can only go from bad to worse over the festive season judging by the amount of alcohol her and Tio brought back from Aldi. The Spanish do like their vino and so do certain English Packmistresses by the look of it. As long as I get my usual Christmas stocking I’ll let her off. I suppose she’s entitled to a bit of light relief. It’s been a long, hard year, at least that’s what she keeps saying. Hasn’t been so bad as far as I’m concerned. I’ve had a great year and I hope many more doggy years to come. Have a woofin great Christmas and I’ll report back to you in the New Year.

Many licks,

Lady Doodles.


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