Chez Strachan has a special guest this weekend. Our domain is being graced by a beautiful lady called Sophie. She boasts captivating dark eyes, lithe limbs, not to mention a charming amalgam of glossy auburn and fair locks.
Like all women, she’s high maintenance and a tad dizzy, but you soon forget that with one look of her dark melancholic eyes.
A lady of few words, she remains a bit of an enigma to my wife Karen and I. As I write she is sat on the sofa, occasionally looking over and no doubt thinking what a rude host I am. When not staring at me, she watches Saturday Kitchen intently on TV. No doubt thinking she has a better recipe than Tom Kitchin for mongoose stew.
Earlier, when we had a stroll out, her looks certainly turned a few heads. “Isn’t she lovely!”, “Isn’t wonderful!” and “Isn’t she lovely, made from love!” were just a few comments being banded about…….. I’m not sure what Stevie Wonder was doing in our housing estate!
Sophie knew it as well. Lapping up the attention, the plaudits and wolf whistles from her numerous admirers. Egging them on further with her sad eyes, rhythmic gait and impeccable grooming.
People were falling in love at first sight, but they always do. However, although engaging with everyone affably, she maintains a degree of aloofness to preserve her mystique.
We have a lot of pressure to provide Sophie with the lifestyle of which she has become accustomed. Her strict dietary requirements meant she arrived with a selection of fine food including chicken and ham.
Nothing over flash about chicken and ham I hear you cry, which ordinarily would be a valid comment. However, as Sophie is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel not a human lady, it’s a tad posh. Her loving owner Jean’s treat to satisfy the lady’s discerning palate.
Not that Karen and I are complaining. As a result of our enchanting canine visitors stay, we are having ham sandwiches for lunch and a chicken dinner.
Dog sitting is a bit of a learning curve for my wee spouse and I. Neither of us have ever had a dog or been really bothered about owning one. Although I have to say, if I knew some were fed as well as Sophie I’d have volunteered to dog sit more often!
It’s not that I particularly dislike dogs, in fact the older I get the more inclined I feel to introduce one into our small but amiable family group. Karen definitely doesn’t want one full time, though, and I’m not overly fussed so I don’t dwell on it.
I’m not sure why my missus is so adverse to us increasing the family unit with a canine. I’m not an expert on our four legged friends, but to me she seems a natural with woofers. We’ve only had Sophie three hours and already Karen has taught her how to say “Polly wants a cracker!”
I need to close this narrative now as my diminutive wife and I are going to take our little houseguest for a walk. Seeing as Karen and I are going to eat Sophie’s chicken and ham, the route of our sedate amble is going to have to include a visit to Sainsburys for dog food.
