Well, little miss furry chops Scrumpy Dog made it to the grand old age of Five yesterday.
Having been to the dog salon this week, to get her pre-birthday ear trim and tail tuck, she was looking particularly tidy for the present gifting – the squeaky dog and chewy half ball went down particularly well at this point.
Mojo remained somewhat unimpressed, making the most of the early summer sunshine, basking on the patio and ignoring her studiously.
Cathy was also out in full sunbathing mode, tipped up in one of the loungers that were bought last year, but languished in the shed the whole summer, due to the bastard builders. Admire the new white smock top thingy, fresh from one of the many Wimbledon charity shops that afternoon…
Even Mum came down for lunch and dinner – and the pulled pork roast was a magnificent accompaniment to the first logs-stolen-off-the-common-fuelled christening of the new chiminea too. Amazing what you can fit into a garden the size of a large hanky… x
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Happy Birthday, Scrumpy! Love, Patrick (your biggest admirer)