Only a Channel away...and yet, and yet.......

‘Hello guv!’

‘Ah young Bing there you are.’

‘Yes, I most definitely am aged poop.’

I’m being regarded by the lad.

‘And may I add O wrinkled one, you only look slightly more aged than when I last saw you.’

‘Well thank you for that I’m sure.’

‘Not at all old poop.’

There he is. The lad himself, looking full of beans and trundling around the house, checking out various ‘important’ places, to ensure that nosh is on the correct shelves, and comfy places are as they should be.

Alison and I have been away for a couple of weeks, and on our return it’s imperative, that all should be just so. The Boy Bing is, if nothing else, a dog of tremendous convention. Thus he is at his most relaxed and chatty, when all is well with his surrounds.

I’m chatting away to him, ten to the dozen, when I realize he’s gone, and is now making a full sweep of the back garden. Boundaries are being investigated, making sure all is as it should be. A couple of pigeons get a deep woof, just so they know he’s about, they seem to shrug and continue to trundle along the top of a fence, heads bobbing like a couple Egyptian sand dancers. 

 

Bing is not impressed, he stands on his hind legs and delivers a ‘Baskerville’ hound like sound, and the fence dancers decide to investigate next door.

‘Anyway guv, as I was saying….’

‘Oh were you Bing?’

‘Certainly oh great wheezer, certainly.’

He peers at me, and decides I’m giving him my full attention.

‘France guv, was it nice?’

‘Nice? Well I guess it was. We tend to take things pretty easy over there.

‘Nothing new there then guv?’

‘M’mmm.’

‘So, have the aged French relatives got any other chaps and such trundling around?’

‘As it happens, they have. There are two dogs called Remus and Petra and…………..four cats.’

A look of horror appears on the noble visage.

‘Blimey, cats guv? Are you having a laugh?’

‘I’m afraid they rule the roost Bing. They take priority over the

dog’s I’m afraid.’

‘Crumbs, how big are they?’

‘Size has nothing to do with it Bing, Remus and Petra just know their place and put up with the pecking order.’

‘Well swipe me guv, I’m amazed.’

‘At food time the cats eat first, and then when they’ve finally decided they have eaten enough, the dogs receive their meal.

‘Cor you’re having a blooming laugh guv.’

‘Afraid not, it’s just the way it is.’

‘Well I’m amazed, in fact my thing-me-bob has never been so flabbergasted and such.

‘What can I say?’

‘There’s nothing you can say guv, in short the answer is in one word.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’

His hooter of renown, wrinkles and eyes are rolled.

‘France.’

A low growl is given.

‘I’m afraid, it’s blooming France old puffer.’

He’s right of course, it’s all rather different over the channel.