It's a chap thing...

Here he is again, handsome if slightly melancholy Jake. Sorry to post yet another portrait of my hoodied little friend in the back of the car but he does look cute and my one and only trip outside the house today was a brief (as brief as I could make it) dash to the corner shop to get the minimal essentials needed to get us through to tomorrow's grocery delivery. The streets traversed in this expedition were not only devoid of activity but they are located in Didcot and furthermore they are the sort of streets that are unphotogenic even for this town. I wasn't even vaguely in the mood for grim, realistic photo essays on barren urban environments or badly lit images of the view from my sofa, so I took a picture of the nicest thing I saw today ...well actually the nicest thing I saw that wouldn't throw something at me for taking her picture (sorry Catie).

Jake and I were of one mind about today - we didn't like it. It was one of those extra painful, extra shaky days for me. A day to take my pills like a good little junkie and then some more pills because the first lot didn't numb me enough. Jake wasn't quite that bad but he's not feeling great either and he is rattling with antibiotics and painkillers for his back. He wont admit it but hes also getting over the somewhat exciting visit to the vet yesterday. So I propped myself into the least uncomfortable position I could find on the couch and Jake stretched out on his new comfy mattress drawn in as close to me as possible. We exchanged a look of understanding and agreement - no mad social whirl for us today...just for a change. I distracted myself during my more conscious moments with a bizarre mix of Wagner, John Lennon, Tom Lehrer, Saint-Saens, Flanders & Swann , the original cast of Hair!, Amanda F. Palmer and (how did that get there?!) Tommy Steel (?)....and Frank Crummit singing Abdul Abulbul, although that might have been the morphine. Actually the whole playlist might have been the morphine, either that or I was smoking something really good when I put such an eclectic mismatch together...or maybe iTunes is just fu... erm... messing with my head. All things are possible. In his less complicated way Jake just went to sleep and snored loudly, with an elderly groan every time Wagner came on.

After procrastinating for as long as possible I levered myself to my feet, stepped over the Jake (who rolled an appraising eye at me then closed it again and sighed meaningfully when he decided I didn't look like a man on his way to the Magic Cupboard of Biscuits) and made my way to the front door and the robing area for clambering into enough protective survival gear to brave the streets of Didcot. While struggling into my shoes in my most crouched as possible stance I was interrupted by the half hearted arrival of 30 Kg of dog with a cold wet nose at one end and a tail on slow wag setting at the other. Once eye contact was established (through judicious and experienced use of the cold nose) I was treated to a minimum effort version of his tried and tested "Walkies?" expression. It was of course fully mutually understood that this was a ritual enquiry and in no way to be taken as a suggestion. I selected my most genial kindly Dad face and reinforced by a manly hug and chest rub assured him that I wasn't going anywhere interesting or that he could accompany me and that he would be doing me a great service if he would save himself the trouble and stay here to look after the house and Catie - he could be in charge. A quick glance at the weather, the racking of my indoor sticks and selection of a number 9 walking out pair of street crutches and I opened the door. It moved a couple of inches (technically a "crack") and stopped. Looking down I rapidly established the difficulty: Jake had moved quietly forward, placed his head flat against the door and dug in his heels. He proceeded to push the door completely closed and maintained pressure holding it there with a head renowned for muscular power if not rapid intellectual ability. In short no matter how much he clearly wanted to go back to his bed, no matter how trivial and un interesting the errand, where I went he went. I know when I'm beaten. The lead was snapped into place, the door released and out we went side by side, a dog and his man....not that there's any funny business you understand, purely manly bonding and not in any way an affection that dare not speak its name.....although we do like to whisper it fairly quietly...it's complicated.

And so to this blip, taken as I struggled out of the car to go and buy "stuff", leaving a resigned little chap behind.