Monday, September 19, 2011
A squiffy PON .
As I come down the stairs Wilf sits bolt upright . He's spent the night curled up asleep in the office . The sound of my footsteps waking him from a deep , untroubled, sleep. By the lopsided look of him he must have been happily dreaming of chasing squirrels. One decidedly squiffy PON .
A few moments to stretch out , collect his thoughts and work out where he is. Then it's onto his back for an early morning tickle. Much yawning and swallowing as all the built up stress melts away .
To town for croissants, the newspapers and our ritual visit to the cafe . The waitress sees us park the car . By the time we've sauntered across from the bakers to the arcades the coffee is already on the table and Wilfs water is ready in a white porcelain bowl under it . '' Bonjour M'Ongoose. Bonjour Wilfee " chorus the beer and absinthe crowd .
Wilf returns home and immediately settles down in exactly the same spot in the office . Time to catch up on a few zzz's after an exciting excursion with his flock . Old PON's know that you live longer once you realize that any time spent being unhappy is wasted .