Socks….

It’s possible by now, you will have realised my time spent with the Grand Basset Griffon Vendeen, known as Bingo, has probably been beneficial to us both. It has to be said, his questions about all that is new to him, have made me reassess what I actually know about, whatever it is he’s questioning.

This may of course be (as the Bible states) falling upon stony ground, if so – say no more. However, if like me, you're amazed at how much you take for granted until questioned on a subject – I’m delighted not to be on my own!

For instance, the other day I was ruminating on the fact that, not for the first time, I was wearing different coloured socks, and whether anyone had or would notice – when the boy wandered into the study.

 

‘What’s up Bing?’

He looked at the ceiling.

‘The light guv.’

‘No, I mean what’s going on?’

‘The light if it gets dark.’

‘Sorry, what I meant was, what’s on your mind?’

‘I’ve been thinking….’

‘Ah right, thinking eh?’

‘M’mmm.’

‘Is it a matter I can help you with old fruit?’

‘M’mmm.’

I must say I was a tad taken aback, Bing generally gets straight to the point. For once he seemed lost for words. In the ensuing silence I shuffled some papers on my desk, sharpened a pencil and generally tried to look unconcerned.

‘That’s a funny business guv.’

‘What is?’

‘Well you stick quite a long bit of twig in that machine, turn the handle, and each time you pull it out you grumble, tut and put it back in again turn the handle…and it gets smaller and smaller. What’s all that about and such?’

‘It’s called a pencil sharpener Bing, it sharpens the lead in the twig er…pencil, so that I can write things, and rub them out if it’s not right.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep, it’s pretty clever.’

‘M’mmm’

‘You don’t seem too impressed?’

‘Hey I’m a hound, twigs are for chewing, chasing and such business, not writing with.’

It was my turn to ‘M’mmm.’

Moments passed…..

‘The thing is old poop.’

Ah, now we were getting down to the real question.

‘The thing is, while I was in the garden, I noticed a squirrel digging in a large flowerpot, so when he bounced off, I popped over to see what it was he was up to.’

‘I see,’

‘You’ll never guess what he was doing?’

‘Well….’

‘He buried a sort of nutty thing.’

‘Probably an acorn.’

‘Really?  I rolled it around my mouth and gave it a bite…..it didn’t appeal.’

‘Quite, it is an acquired taste I believe.’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘Well squirrels like to get ready for winter, and so they spend some time each year, storing tit-bits to nosh during the cold months.’

‘Well that’s mighty clever of ‘em.’

‘Yes Bing - but, their memories can be a bit faulty, and so they bury loads of things for the winter. Then the chances are, they’ll at least find some food, as and when required.’

‘Ah…..so they’re forgetful like you eh?

‘What?’

‘Well old wheezer, judging by your socks, you forgot which colour you were going to wear today!’

‘Ah.’

‘Time for coffee and things guv?’

‘Things?’

‘I’ll show you were my biscuits are…….just in case your memory’s a bit faulty!’

With one bound I leapt from my chair in hot pursuit……..


………he beat me to the kitchen….

…….but only by a long nose!