I am smoking during the day again. This hasn't happened since six builders moved in with us for the best part of a year and turned the house into Fraggle Rock. But the dogs keep escaping through a Tom and Jerry dog-shaped hole in a neighbour's fence and there's not much else to do while supervising them in the garden. As long as I'm standing there they'll pretend to play with a stick or something. As soon as I turn my back they're off through the comedy hole and showing me up all over town.
Yesterday I found one of them sharing a packet of scampi fries with a drunken old codge in the pub, but it's the bins behind the curry house that they love. The black one can get away with it, but the grey one's face is now stained chicken tikka massala orange and he stinks like the messy end of a friday night.
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