Last week we went on another foray down south to my cousin’s funeral. I’m going to leave that one right there and move on….
Since the funeral was in Swindon and that meant we were most of the way to Devon we decided to spend a few days there, in Torquay of course, where else?
Travelling and being away from home has got trickier and trickier as time has gone on. What to do with poor Douggie? If we take him the stress of the journey can bring on a seizure. If we leave him the stress of us not being there can bring on a seizure. We decided to take him.
Armed with his pills, a DAP diffuser, a DAP spray, Bach flower remedies and all his toys and bed we set off. In the hours before we set off and were packing and generally getting prepared for the journey Douggie paced the floor whining and unsettled. Every time we went outside he stuck to us like glue, terrified we’d leave him behind. How on earth does he know we’re going even before we have started to pack?
We made it to Torquay with no dramas you’ll be glad to hear. The DAP spray and diffuser worked like magic. I’m sure it’s anaesthetic. One whiff and he nods off. Very handy for when we were at the funeral. He just sat in the back of the car snoring and whistling till we came back. It was expensive but worth every penny.
We arrived in Torquay at the same time as the BIG storm. Wild? It was incredible. Wet and windy, we didn’t care though, we were just glad to be back. Douggie certainly didn’t care, the wetter the better for him. I of course got soaked to the skin when my waterproofs though ‘oh sod it, it’s too hard, this’ and gave up the ghost. I was sodden. getting wet clothes and a wet dog dried off in a small, cramped hotel room was tricky, not to mention smelly. Poo-wee, that dog stinks when he’s wet.
On our last evening we met up with our sister in law and nephew for a few hours. Time for a catch up now that it’s been a couple of weeks since Boofuls’ brother’s funeral. Our nephew kept us all amused with tales of his teenage escapades, he’s only just turned eighteen and thinks he’s over the hill. Bless him, he’s got a lot to learn.
One of his tales involved a nearby place called Goodrington. It hasn’t got a lot except a fantastic all year round beach for dogs but his story kept us highly amused, once we worked out what he was actually saying. I heard him say Gu’ru’u at least three times before I realised what he was saying. “Gu’ru’u? I’ve never heard of that, Where did you say? Oh! Goodrington!”
It seems that Devonian young people have decided to drop as many consonants as possible while speaking
I think it might catch on, who needs consonants anyway?