The truth about those Thursday mornings...

Did you already know that, every Thursday morning for about as long as I've lived with Gail, she's abandoned me for several hours on the pretext of getting some exercise with her friends? 

After a too brief walk in the park with me, she wheels her bicycle to the front door then off she pedals, claiming it's all in the cause of leg muscle strength and cardiovascular fitness.

I wait patiently for her return. 

Sometimes I check her phone after she's arrived back. (No I'm not snooping. It's because I care.)

This week, I noticed on her cycling WhatsApp group, there was just one photo of the 'ride'.

I was not amused.

Thursday is Abandon Your Dog Day?

Today we're again doing a combined post for YAM-aunty's 'FFF (Final Friday Feature)' and for our friends the LLB Gang's 'Nature Friday' blog hop. 

A Story of Dog versus Bicycle

This is a tale about what happens most Thursday mornings in a certain household in Aberdeen, Scotland. The particular details relate to this week, but the basic pattern of events could be pretty much any Thursday in any year...

The dog wakes up when his human comes downstairs shortly after 6 a.m. He notes she is wearing clothes which are brighter and more close fitting than her usual garments, and this, together with the fact that the next thing she does is check her bicycle tyre pressures, tells him he will shortly be abandoned for several hours while his human goes off to meet her friends for their regular Thursday bike ride.

But wait. All is not lost, perhaps? He can hear rain on the roof of the conservatory, above the noise of his human chomping through her big bowl of muesli and Nick Robinson on Radio 4 talking about the fate of Yevgeny Prigozhin. 

It is still raining quite hard when she takes him for his morning walk around the park, and for a few hopeful minutes he can dream that the wet weather will prompt her to stay indoors, with him, after all.

Fat chance of that. As her friend Anne is fond of saying: "Why did they invent Gore-Tex?" At 8:45 am sharp she pats him on the head and, despite deploying a plaintive look in his eyes together with his adorable - so he's told - head tilt, she wheels her 'wet weather bicycle' (the one with the mudguards) out into the road, and there he is, left all alone. Abandoned once again.

It is six hours later when she returns, all rosy cheeked and happy, knees creaking a bit. She tells him five of them were out today, Anne, Sonia, Sheila, Margaret and herself, they rode out to Monymusk for coffee and delicious scones and plenty of lively chat. The sun came out, the wind blew them home and all in all they'd had a fine time.

But there's more disappointment for the dog, who has to wait a while longer for his afternoon outing. His human claims that having cycled over fifty miles she needs not only a shower but also more food - the yummy cheese scone was insufficient fuel. 

After what feels to him like for ever, she finally puts on his lead and they go out. By now his expectations are low and he is unsurprised to find out this is to be a boring urban walk, less than two miles, and even on the path by the River Dee he is not allowed to roam free, apparently in case he decides to chase any of the baby bunnies hopping about on the river bank. As if there would be anything wrong in that. 

Towards the end of the walk he is made to pose in front of one of the prettier front gardens just a short distance from his house. His human takes a close up of one of her favourite dahlias, saying if he includes this in his post it will definitely qualify for the Nature Friday blog hop.

When the cat's away...

On Thursday mornings, when Gail wheels her bicycle out of the porch...

...I wait for the front door to slam shut then jump on to the back of the sofa, my favourite vantage point, from where I can see her ride away up the road.

Secure in the knowledge that Gail won't be back for a few hours, I get to work.  

First I double check the kitchen floor, just in case I missed any food dropped earlier. 

If it's a bright day, I pause for a just moment to soak up the rays in my favourite sun puddle.

Then comes the serious business of the morning, the search for chewable items that Gail might have inadvertently left within reach. 

On one paw, this is getting easier as my always impressive jumping muscles strengthen further.

On the other paw, Gail's vigilance at trying to keep stuff hidden is improving. 

Normally, I can find at least a pen or pencil left lying around, and this provides excellent jaw exercise for up to half an hour.

This agreeable activity might be interrupted when I hear the one of my neighbours barking and I feel compelled to run out into the garden through my doggy door. Although I can't see my neighbours as the garden is surrounded by a granite wall, I can still enjoy a conversation with them - often quite lengthy. 

I might then satisfy a terrier urge to progress my 'tunnel to Australia' excavation project.

Next, paws all muddy,  it's back inside to look for another item to chew, or if that fails, perhaps a wee nap (and happy dreams of future mischief).

When the time comes for Gail to return from her bike ride, I take up position again on the sofa, and keep watch, remembering to put on my best guilt inducing 'sad abandoned dog' expression with which to greet Gail as she approaches the front door.