Sick as a Dog

Poor Moll. She wasn’t herself last night.

We walked out over Trefusis Point yesterday afternoon, a headland now mostly covered in mud, but you walk along looking out over Falmouth Docks, round to the castle, then as you round the point, you see St Mawes and the corresponding castle. Further round is Millionaire’s Row, then St Just, and in between the sea was a painter’s dream of colours – the palest green, a bold royal blue, inky black and jade. Wind scuffed the top of the water, ruffling it into small, bad tempered waves.

Moll and I walked and I talked, as I do about whatever. Nothing of consequence, though sometimes I ask her opinion. She doesn’t deign to reply, but that doesn’t matter.

She got home and wolfed her tea down but somewhere along the line she must have eaten something that disagreed with her. Something nice and tasty like fox or badger poo probably.

She went rather quiet after that, but the fire was lit and it was a cold day so we snuggled down to read the paper and watch the news. She slunk off, a bit later, returned and regurgitated a large amount of whatever it was on the carpet.

We cleaned it up and she drank some water, eventually returned to the sofa to crash out. It wasn’t until we were going to bed that I noticed a similar deposit under the bed. Right in the middle, so I had to lie on my belly and crawl under the bed to reach it.

Moll lay in her bed looking embarrassed. As in, “sorry Mum. I didn’t mean to.”

I forgive her of course. But I’m not very hungry today. Just shows, I’d make a lowsy nurse.

PS - Just had a phone call from mum. She has finally got Broadband package and is having it installed today. Only took Tiscali three months. More on that later.