Poor Spud the dog, his creature comforts are all awry, the side board, the sofa and the armchair are all squeezed into the kitchen.
With a sigh Spud retreated to the kitchen window sill, rested his chin on the dust cloth covered sideboard and shot me his most doleful look.
‘When did you say the carpet fitters are coming?’ he asked.
Tomorrow Spud, tomorrow; woohoooooooo. Tomorrow evening Spud, we can stick the house back together and put the paint pots away. Project ‘new lounge carpet’ will be over. Plastered, painted and paid for.
You’ll have to wipe your paws mind. No grubby or flea ridden dogs will be admitted to the lounge… Do you understand Spud?