Dog Day Afternoon
Sonny is our dog. He is 10 weeks old.
It’s time I did a wee Sonny post as he is a bona-fide member of the Flying Martinis . I promise not to do another one any time soon, as there’s nothing as dull as folk going on about pets. Indulge me, this once.
Here’s 10 Sonny-related facts
1. The three cats hold regular conferences about him on the stair landing. I swear I see them congregating far more regularly than they used to. The conference organiser is Harleyboy, the elder statesman (he’s 15, which is old for a cat and like Nelson Mandela he shows no sign of slowing down), Libby is Mary Robinson and Lulu is Condoleeeza Rice. They are proposing sanctions and a trade embargo.
2. I have used more kitchen roll in two weeks than I ever have in my entire life. Toilet training is a tricky business. I am thinking of applying for shares in “Bounty”. That and getting wooden flooring.
3. Dogs prefer cat food to almost anything else. But if they manage to steal and eat any, they will produce twenty turds in half an hour.
4. Puppies are clever little beasts. I taught the boy how to sit in five minutes with some cat munchies and a clicker. Five minutes! Crufts here we come! Get my flat shoes and tartan skirt ready!
5. He is so beautiful – everything about him is beautiful. But I can’t stand to look at his man’s parts. They upset me. I’ll need to come to terms with them, soon. I would like it better if they were pixelated when I looked at them like on censored images.
6. He’s an underwear fetishist. He presented a visiting Sky telly engineer with a bra of mine and I think the bloke thought he was in a “Carry On” movie for a second. Nae luck, mate; I’ve given up sex-blogging.
7. He has eaten his way through a computer mouse cable, the strap of my green wedges shoes, a set of fairy lights and this weeks’ Grazia. He’s nothing if not full of variety.
8. He has been blessed with a bark that isn’t commensurate with his small frame. Surely some mistake in the dog factory. Somewhere there is a Rottweiler who opens his mouth and a little girlie squeak comes out as Sonny has stolen his bark (and probably his pants)
9. Junior Missy is bloody good with dogs. She is particularly good as spraying carpet cleaner and taking Sonny out for a pee whenever I ask. She’s channelling her inner pup and Sonny loves her. She’s the next Barbara Woodhouse, but with better dress sense.
10. The Flying Martinis are definitely dog people.
Last Thai Misssive..for a year anyway…
I’m so glad we came back to Bangkok. I wasn’t looking forward to it as I can’t say I was that enamoured the first time, and it also signifies the end of the trip. The first time, Bangkok seemed hot noisy and stinky, but I realise now that I was freaked out and jet lagged. I can confidently say I now am firmly in the camp of LOVING Bangkok. Can I go back there, please? I apologise for ever speaking badly of the place. I now wish we’d had more time there.
So it’s Saturday and we check out of the Davis Hotel.
John gets his bill for the bottle of wine he orders on Room Service that cost more than our entire food and drinks bill in our WEEK in Koh Lanta. Here’s him signing the visa bill…Old Chinese Proverb says; “Never order Room Service unless other man is paying…”
Today is our last day and we’ve got the whole day to check out more Bangkok. We need presents for our loved ones… So we head for the famed weekend market. I am so excited that I am practically foaming at the mouth. Remember my jewelry prize? Remember I painted a picture, sold it on ebay and John said he would buy me jewelry as a prize? You might have forgotten- I haven’t.
First things first, we need to check the Songkran situation. Remember we fly out tonight, we can’t get covered in flour. The hotel receptionist seems to think we’ll be fine at the market. And she’s mostly right. There’s a bit of water pistolling going on, but nothing we can’t handle. In fact the occasional cold jet of water is quite welcome as we go through the steaming labyrinth of shopping heaven.
In all we spend 5 hours here, and it’s the first time in the whole holiday that Indy complains. He is understandably disturbed by the single-minded rabid shopping psychosis his mother goes into, coupled with the fact that, like every other 8 year old boy he hates shopping. John placates him by taking him to a weaponry stall whilst I look at trinkets and baubles. And when I mean weaponry, I mean medieval type stuff. Look at this!
John buys himself and Louis a penknife as we’re guessing customs aren’t going to let this item through.
Next ,we visit animal aisle and I find this the hardest of all. It’s not that the animals are being cruelly treated; these are pet shops of the types we used to have in the UK years ago where you could buy your dog or cat from them. The animals are being well treated, most of them have fans trained on them to keep them cool and most are in airconditioned shops. When I say it’s hard to take , it’s just that I want to take every puppy home.
I’ve been wanting a dog for some time, particularly a cocker spaniel. I am now confronted with my dream golden cocker spaniel puppy and have to be dragged away from her, practically sobbing and wailing “Did you see how we connected? Did you see that? We had a wee moment!!!”
Then I similarly connect with this beautiful retriever in the next stall. Tooooo difficult! I am led away, with John trying to calm me down by reminding me of the jewelry.
Never mind the dog, look at my Brian May hair!
So here’s me minutes later making the deal of the century on two rings, one swiss blue topaz and the other peridot. I am a happy monkey. And a female stereotype, it would appear.
So fast forward four hours later and the market starts to wind down, the Flying Martinis buy a new case to take their newly acquired booty home in and Songkran madness starts again. But we are ready this time. Check Indy going all Rambo through the market. That’s my boy!
And check Indy’s Mum (unarmed I may add) getting absolutely soaked just in time for boarding the plane home.
See why you’ve got to love this place?
On the way home we plan our return trip.
I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading the Thai Misssives. And I hope even more that I’ve encouraged some of you to buy plane tickets to Thailand.
Last Thai Misssive..for a year anyway…
I’m so glad we came back to Bangkok. I wasn’t looking forward to it as I can’t say I was that enamoured the first time, and it also signifies the end of the trip. The first time, Bangkok seemed hot noisy and stinky, but I realise now that I was freaked out and jet lagged. I can confidently say I now am firmly in the camp of LOVING Bangkok. Can I go back there, please? I apologise for ever speaking badly of the place. I now wish we’d had more time there.
So it’s Saturday and we check out of the Davis Hotel.
John gets his bill for the bottle of wine he orders on Room Service that cost more than our entire food and drinks bill in our WEEK in Koh Lanta. Here’s him signing the visa bill…Old Chinese Proverb says; “Never order Room Service unless other man is paying…”
Today is our last day and we’ve got the whole day to check out more Bangkok. We need presents for our loved ones… So we head for the famed weekend market. I am so excited that I am practically foaming at the mouth. Remember my jewelry prize? Remember I painted a picture, sold it on ebay and John said he would buy me jewelry as a prize? You might have forgotten- I haven’t.
First things first, we need to check the Songkran situation. Remember we fly out tonight, we can’t get covered in flour. The hotel receptionist seems to think we’ll be fine at the market. And she’s mostly right. There’s a bit of water pistolling going on, but nothing we can’t handle. In fact the occasional cold jet of water is quite welcome as we go through the steaming labyrinth of shopping heaven.
In all we spend 5 hours here, and it’s the first time in the whole holiday that Indy complains. He is understandably disturbed by the single-minded rabid shopping psychosis his mother goes into, coupled with the fact that, like every other 8 year old boy he hates shopping. John placates him by taking him to a weaponry stall whilst I look at trinkets and baubles. And when I mean weaponry, I mean medieval type stuff. Look at this!
John buys himself and Louis a penknife as we’re guessing customs aren’t going to let this item through.
Next ,we visit animal aisle and I find this the hardest of all. It’s not that the animals are being cruelly treated; these are pet shops of the types we used to have in the UK years ago where you could buy your dog or cat from them. The animals are being well treated, most of them have fans trained on them to keep them cool and most are in airconditioned shops. When I say it’s hard to take , it’s just that I want to take every puppy home.
I’ve been wanting a dog for some time, particularly a cocker spaniel. I am now confronted with my dream golden cocker spaniel puppy and have to be dragged away from her, practically sobbing and wailing “Did you see how we connected? Did you see that? We had a wee moment!!!”
Then I similarly connect with this beautiful retriever in the next stall. Tooooo difficult! I am led away, with John trying to calm me down by reminding me of the jewelry.
Never mind the dog, look at my Brian May hair!
So here’s me minutes later making the deal of the century on two rings, one swiss blue topaz and the other peridot. I am a happy monkey. And a female stereotype, it would appear.
So fast forward four hours later and the market starts to wind down, the Flying Martinis buy a new case to take their newly acquired booty home in and Songkran madness starts again. But we are ready this time. Check Indy going all Rambo through the market. That’s my boy!
And check Indy’s Mum (unarmed I may add) getting absolutely soaked just in time for boarding the plane home.
See why you’ve got to love this place?
On the way home we plan our return trip.
I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading the Thai Misssives. And I hope even more that I’ve encouraged some of you to buy plane tickets to Thailand.
