Bambino Bobble Wilson is eight years old today! After his illness just over a year ago, when I genuinely thought we were losing him, I didn’t think he’d make middle-aged bones, but here he is all big, bold, furry and full of renewed cattitude.
He has taken to going outside now and it enrages Nell that he does so because this is HER house and HER garden and SHE tells EVERYONE what to do, right? However, as you can probably see from the above photo, Bambino has a way of narrowing his eyes at her, daring her to stop him doing exactly what HE wants because ACTUALLY this is HIS house and HIS garden and HE tells EVERYONE what to do, right? RIGHT???
Ye gods, it’s like living with jealous toddlers.
Anyway, mostly they reach some sort of entente cordiale about the matter and have done so in a relatively short space of two of three months’ time which makes them both way more intelligent than certain human warring factions in the world at the moment. No wilful destruction of our beautiful planet Earth, either, because they settle their differences in ways that don’t involve guns, tanks, rockets, missiles, drones or general murderous intent. And if they DID use any of the above, then the Head Gardener a.k.a moi, Lady Malarkey, might have some VERY strong words to say about it.
Bambino likes to perambulate and inspect the borders of the middle garden. Occasionally, he will venture into the top garden and then RUN at full pelt down the entire length of the Damson Cottage estate and into the kitchen where he sits looking very pleased with himself. Nell does not understand this behaviour. She just runs at full pelt all over the place, completely cutting out the perambulation element. Often, Bambino will sit beneath a garden chair, or amongst the rose bushes and Nell has NO idea he is there. I swear I hear him sniggering when he does this.
And sometimes he will stretch himself out on the steps leading from the courtyard to the middle garden. He did this on Friday when I was up and down the steps A LOT, so his mission to kill me on stairs by causing a trip hazard continues into the outdoors. Nice, eh?
He seems to like going outside as dusk falls. I don’t know if this is because there are bats around and he is mystified by ‘flying mice’ or whether he is a closet astronomer and enjoys a meteor shower or unusual alignment of planets, but he always strolls in at 9.30 p.m to use the toilet facilities and have some supper. Occasionally, Nell will go outside and round him up, barking at him until he capitulates, and then he swaggers in as if to say, ‘I was coming inside ANYWAY, you moronic canine.’
Happy Birthday, Bambino! You’re a grand chap!
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KJ