I should know better

Life seems quiet without Cupcake, but it was enlivened this week by the front door jamming shut.  Only access was via the side door through a back porch used as a glory hole…not a place for public show.

Most of the dogs adapted.   But we had problems.   Florian, usually out to lunch on the planet Zog.   Shelby, full of strange Chin flights of fancy.   Sonja, rather dim.  Those 3 were Door Refusers.  They would not go through the Bad Door.   Sonja in particular was appalled by it.  She seemed to suspect it opened on to the planet Mars.

Of course I just carried them out in the end.   Then came the fun of getting them in.  Florian was carried in.   Shelby refused totally – till it rained.  (Rain solves a lot of Chin problems, I find…concentrates the Chin mind amazingly, does the threat of being wet.)

And that left Sonja.   She would not even be caught to be taken through the Bad Door.  I left the door open and all the lights on, and went in for a while, sure that she would eventually come in to the house.

"Who knows where that door would take me?"  - Red Sonja

No Sonja.  When I went out looking for her I found her curled up in a large flowerpot.  That was her chosen bed for the night,  sooner than face the terrors of the Bad Door.  I was able to carry her in, and she was amazed to find that her own bed was in there after all.

But eventually the locksmith arrived, very punctually.  “This big guy in a hat at the far end of the road wouldnae let me pass till I showed him the paperwork!” he complained.

I looked at him.  Big and fat with a huge beer belly , inadequately contained by a faded T shirt, long greasy hair, a scruffy white van – he must have ticked all the wrong boxes on my Good Neighbour`s security list.  I wisely said nothing.

But he fixed the lock and at last we could use the normal door again.  

And Sonja looked very smug indeed about it.