Our humble abode will be graced by a special guest today when a beguiling little lady comes to stay. A visitor who exudes the elegance of Grace Kelly, has the captivating eyes of Elizabeth Taylor, along with the elfin face of Audrey Hepburn.
A consummate beauty whose ventures outdoors stops passers-by in their tracks, as they stand agog at her alluring charm and winsome gait. Unfazed by the attention, she remains calm and collected while covertly lapping up every second of the adoration.
She is only here for one night, but in that time this low maintenance lady will be a constant centre of attention in chez Strachan, being excessively pampered by my brood.
I’ve probably given the game away in the previous paragraph when I said this lady was low of maintenance that it was a dog, not a woman. After all, low maintenance behaviour and ladies of the human genus are ordinarily not natural bed-fellows.Our little guest, Sophie, is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.
I apologise for the uncharacteristically misogynistic paragraph above. It was written with tongue very firmly in cheek for a reaction, not to mirror any genuine feelings or generalisations I have about the fairer sex.
The easy on the eye Sophie has now arrived. After a walk with my wife Karen and I, she has acquired two of the three sofa seats (perhaps she is more of diva than I thought) and is watching the Disney animation Aladdin. She doesn’t look over enamoured with the movie; maybe Lady and the Tramp would have been more to our guests liking.
Stay with it Soph, the movie develops musically and comedically when Robin Williams’ genie turns up. You won’t get three wishes granted, unless they are a walk at Temple Newsam, chicken for tea and a night at chez Strachan, but trust me it’s a superior watch to Lady and the Tramp.
Talking about our furry friends, I couldn’t help but wonder during Donald Trump’s inauguration whether his hair piece was house broken. Or is it the case the White House in for a few accidents from DJT’s untrained head attire? A cheap and not overly funny epiphany of mine, but I thought I’d share it anyway.
Of course the toupee will be housetrained and, although not aesthetically pleasing as Sophie, it’ll probably appreciate watching Aladdin more than our furry little house guest. It’s also got more chance of three decent wishes from its billionaire owner, than Soph has from Karen and I.
Well I need to bring this narrative to a close as I’ve got to go carve the Sunday roast. I’m not sure if I’ll escape without a sad eyed little lady sitting at my feet guilt tripping me into feeding them from the dinner table …… I wish Karen would just eat it at the table like the rest of us!