I should know better

I have kept off the matter of the referendum.  My vote is already in, and those who know me will know what it is.  I am trying to avoid the endless media coverage, and in particular the Beeb`s relentless NO campaign.

However, I have the habit, last thing at night, of checking the next day`s headlines on my phone, and last night was amazed to find that Milliband, a man who has as much authority in this matter as Donald Duck (and a lot less charisma) was threatening an independent Scotland with armed forces at the border.  I thought little of it and fell asleep….

And then I dreamed I was wakened by a hammering on the door.  There stood a soldier, who demanded to know if I had a gun, as I was registered as having one.  I said that I had. 

“Well, pack a small bag and come with me.  We are organising a militia to defend the border  against the English army.”

In vain I protested that I was ancient, and so was the gun.  And I was about to be taken off to war…..when the dream was penetrated by a loud honking.

"Honk, honk, honk!" - Florian

I woke and recognised the sound.  “Honk, honk honk!”   Pause.  “Honk, honk honk!”.  Florian`s deep, resonant,  desolate bark.  Prudence is in season, and he was lamenting his sadly deficient sex life.   I know he would go on for hours, telling the world about the unfairness and misery of it all.

I looked at the clock.  3am.  You will gather that sympathy was the last thing on my mind.  I got up and gave him a piece of the said mind, threatening  to take him to the vet and sort out his problem for once and for all.   He wisely shut up.

And I went back to bed and wondered how that border war would have gone, in the dream world I had left….

Maybe just as well Florian chose to honk.