All the servants were up early this morning, including man servant’s father who, because he has looked after me and the chavs a couple of times will now be classified as ‘senior man servant’.
After they had breakfast they all went out AGAIN! and left me at home with the two chavs. The servants said they were looking forward to seeing the Boxing Day Hunt especially as senior man servant had not seen one for a very long time.
While they were out I slept on my old bed where senior man servant is sleeping. I occasionally woke up to hear light drops of rain hit the window. Thought of the servants being outside for a moment and went back to sleep. I will still not honour senior man servant by sharing my bed with him.
The servants returned after three hours looking very cold.
‘We were lucky to see them where we did’ lady servant said as she huddled next to a radiator.
‘Yes’ said man servant ‘it was just a question of following a convoy of muddy four by fours down side roads’.
‘A case of hunting the hunt’ senior man servant chipped in over his mug of coffee.
Over lunch they mentioned that there must have been twenty hounds. The hunting fraternity do not call them dogs, they call them hounds. And if there were twenty hounds that, again what the hunting fraternity refer to as , ten couples. Riders or mounted followers were estimated to be about twenty but they are not referred to as couples apparently.
They recounted how one young lady made an involuntary dismount. Luckily she was uninjured but her horse had a marvellous time running free for a few minutes. Lady servant reminded man servant that he would be going out on his new horse this time next year. I hope she checks his insurance policies as he really is not getting any younger.
It sounds like the servants had fun and got home just before the heavy rain set in for the rest of the day.
Senior man servant was reading his paper. He mentioned an article reporting that because so many people had been shopping on line, whatever that is, on Christmas Day that the shops had run out of some stock for their Christmas sales. He suggested that customers who do this must have some sort of illness.
Personally I cannot see the point of putting all that effort into shopping except for food. Even more so when you get something new from the shop, open it on Christmas Day, play with it and break it by Christmas Night. Yes, the brown cigar shaped thing the servants gave me has broken open. Its contents started to spill on to the carpet, that catnip is really gooood stuff this time, which the lady servant had to clear up, Toys are really not made to last like they used.
Boxing Day finished with all the servants going to bed early with their Christmas books. Man servant is always last to bed. My favourite sport with him is placing myself dead centre of the bed near his pillows. Then I listen and watch him try to negotiate vocally and with body language for five minutes to get me to move so he can get into bed. After five minutes I move just enough to allow him some space under the covers but not in comfort. After another five minutes I then move again so he can finally get comfortable and go to sleep.
You see Omar, does not have to go outside on cold winter days to have some sport, unlike the servants when it can all be done indoors in the warm.