OVERHEARD. . .

Now I really wouldn't want you to think that I go around eavesdropping, because really I don't.  Although ... there is a lot to be said for being 'aware', I always say.
(It comes from reading so many books about WWII Resistance and the S.O.E - but more on that later). 

It's just sometimes you don't so much 'overhear' things, as have them thrust upon you. . .


I was recently in a Hospital Waiting Room...waiting for The Husband.(Sometimes known as BB, but am currently auditioning different titles for him).

- I seem to start a lot of posts with Hospital Waiting Rooms.  Anyway....

There I was, minding my own business, deep in the pages of my current book about WWII when in came a couple (a man and a woman) who were really rather pleased with themselves. 
Lots of hair-flicking and teeth flashing and effortlessly shabby-chic clothing.

DOG DAY AFTERNOON (must look up what that means...)

A post about the Dog after whom this Blog is named. 
I know.  Wild.

The casual passer-by might well wonder why the blazes this blog is called 'Do Not Break the Dog' -  since it doesn't seem to be about dogs at all, apart from my shamefully neglected 'The Dog' page. 

Well today all that changes. 
For one day, at least.

Just a brief bit of background to get you up to speed:

Our dog, Witch,  was diagnosed with IMPA (Immune-Mediated Poly-Arthritis) when she was just about 1 year old.  She has been having treatment ever since - LOADS of drugs - and is so far not responding as well as we all might have hoped.  She is a lot better than she was, thankfully, but she certainly doesn't move in the way you'd expect for a dog of her age, and she tends to react badly when her drug dosage is decreased. 
Her condition, and the treatment for it, have led to muscle wastage - and exercise can cause her pain and discomfort.

A-n-y-w-a-y...that's enough background, on to the . . . front ground?

OOH I SAY...GET ME!

I am feeling a little nerve-wracked because I have just published my FIRST EVER Guest Post on another Blog.  Ooooooooeerrrrrrr.

Tree with Bunting.
(For no particular reason)

My dear friend, Weezafish, was CRUELLY burgled last week and asked me to explain her subsequent Radio Silence on her Blog - and also bung a post of my own up there too. 

How very kind of her to think me fit, eh?

So, if you are intrigued, do go take a look.
If you are not, then I shall simply wish you a very happy day.

In fact - what the hey! To one and all, a Happy Day!
(I am getting quite prolific with these poems).

IF THIS IS WRONG . . .

On the subject of 'If This is Wrong - I Don't Want to be Right', I offer my method of

Eating A 'Tunnock's Tea Cake'.

After the careful removal of a section of the chocolate shell, use a Gentle Hooking Action with the finger of your choice (preferably one of your own) to remove (and eat) all of the sticky sweet innards.

Ta da!

Cup of tea in Union Jack mug is entirely optional.  Although it does, in my opinion, enhance the whole experience.

But - hold the phone - what is this?!  Has the entire universe shifted on its axis? 

SHE'S A DIAMOND...

Bunting Fever!  I've totally got it.  Actually, I have always had it -  but I have well and truly taken advantage of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations this (long holiday) weekend and bedecked the homestead with  small pennants of red, white and blue.


I got really caught up in the celebrations too.  Not as in dressing as a Pearly Queen, hauling my derriere to London and declaring a lifetime's devotion to the Crown - but in a quiet appreciation (which I suppose is quite British in itself). 
Not just of HM the Q, but of Britain too (ooh, a poem!)

We were lucky enough, where I live at least, to have a couple of weeks of gorgeous weather in the run up to the Jubilee Loooooong Weekend.   Union Jack bunting flapping against bright blue skies would surely put anyone in a jubilant mood?

And that's not all.