A couple of years ago I had mono. It was pretty harsh, I couldn't swallow without whimpering, the medication I was on made me hear a choir in my garden and a baby in my room. Since then, neither of these symptoms has returned but I do feel really fucking tired some of the time. I am aware how lame this sounds to most people, but there you go, I really crave sleep some of the time when before I could take it or leave it.
Anywho, this weekend past, I was enjoying a lie in when my mum woke me up...."Ben,
who forgot to put the dog in her crate? She's chewed up my camera and crapped all over the place?!?!?!?"
Shit, I thought, it was me. Then through the haze of Friday's excess of 4 cans of beer and a crappy dvd I remembered seeing Bella, the dog in question, asleep in her crate and the house as still as treacle. I went into the living room; crap, LOTS of crap. Shortbread biscuits my mum bought for Christmas and was hoping would help me through the January blues; gone. Mum's new digital camera case; in tatters. New camera, left for dead but mercifully untouched. Leather hand bag; chewed to buggery. Piss; quite a bit.
My brother was questioned; he had gone straight to bed. What then, WHAT happened in those precious few hours that I got my precious sleep. Maybe the crate wasn't shut properly, but what about the TV? The remote we have doesn't turn it on and it would take a very purposeful push to turn it on manually. Now, I don't want to harp on about the old wig/head episode
or demon mouse horror
, but something about this does not sit right and I fear our mischievious pup may well be a patsy for more sinister forces who do not wish to show their faces.
I am certainly not foolish enough to believe that this happened the morning after I watched a film about the Jersey Devil can be put down to mere coincidence.
If it is the ghost of Lassie talking to my dog, could she/he at least have the decency clean up the crap?
Labels: Dog, Mystery, TV