Wednesday 13 May 2015

Twiglet and a Relaxing Bath...

What can a Twiglet possibly have to do with a relaxing bath, you may well wonder to yourselves. Well let me explain that the Twiglet in question is, in fact, a border terrier dog. She, for she is most assuredly female as the logic that she employs during her antic will attest, was just a pup at the time of the tale that I bring for your amusement today. Border terriers, or Border 'Terrors' as their owners often refer to them affectionately as, are loyal, affectionate and downright scampish in character, for the uninitiated amongst you. They are brave, wise, kind and have a stubborn streak like not other breed of dog that I have ever encountered. Twiglet, like any puppy, had an enquiring mind and always wanted company, to be part of the pack, if you will. 

So what does this have to do with a relaxing bath you may well wonder?

Allow me to set the scene…

A Sunday afternoon in late January, I was preparing a roast dinner as is usual and timing is everything with a roast dinner. I have a routine whereby I like to get it to a stage where the potatoes go in, a timer is set, I slip into a hot bath and the other half takes on 'potato duty' which basically just involves basting the spuds and popping them back into the oven and resetting the timer by which time I'm finished in the bathroom and ready for kitchen duty once more. It makes him feel as if he has helped me cook the Sunday roast (he hasn't) but more importantly, it gives me time for a bath. On the Sunday I am describing, I had pushed the boat out bath wise. It was not long after christmas and I had received some Jo Malone smellies which needed my full attention. I also had a beautiful and expensive scented candle that I thought that I would light for the first time.  So here was my haven, heavenly scented water, flickering candlelight, a mug of herbal tea (yes I'm a lightweight, it should have been wine) and Paul O' Grady on the radio (guilty pleasure revealed). I slid into the bath, it was hot hot hot and I felt the aches and pains just fall away, bliss. I lay back in the water and dunked a new fluffy flannel and put the steaming cloth across my face and allowed myself to relax completely.

Have you ever listened to Paul O' Grady on a Sunday?  His show is very formulaic and all the more comforting for it. Every week there are certain things like 'lost theme tunes', 'classic triples' and at the time he also did a slot where listeners wrote in to ask him to remember their dead pets. It was a real tear jerker and always guaranteed to make his voice crack a little. He doesn't seem to do it so much these days. I refreshed my face cloth with more steaming water and settled back as Paul launched into this particular week's 'Dead Pet' slot. It was the usual mix of dogs and cats and his voice cracking when all of a sudden Sploomp!!!  The wind was knocked out of me and as I inhaled my own flannel, I made an extraordinary noise of shock and disbelief. I snatched the flannel away from my face to find Twiglet sitting neatly on my rather wobbly stomach and realising her predicament and the large volume of water that she now found herself sitting in, with typical female logic she set about trying to drink her way out of it. Whatever strangulated noise that I had made when inhaling my flannel as the air had been rudely pushed out of me by trajectory of a flying puppy landing on my flabby belly. had elicited the response of my family invading my sanctuary and they were now in the bathroom hooting with laughter at the scene before them. Twiglet, god love her, must have drunk her own body weight in bathwater in an attempt to make it go away.  She was duly removed, and I was left to continue my now wet dog scented bath in peace. I didn't enjoy it very much...

Twiglet

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