There was a few times today that one creature or another was taking flight. Example one. 10am. Hydrobath. The fur friends don't much like the bathing routine where "don't much like" can be interpreted as hate with a burning passion. Rumple shows his distaste by digging his heel in and having to be lifted in. With Winkle, the problem isn't so much getting her in as keeping her there. During the bath she started leaping towards the top. The assisant and I laughed that if we weren't careful she'd be over the top. The assistant told me only a couple of labradors had ever managed to achieve an escape. While we talked, Winkle executed one giant leap and she was in my arms - on the outside of the hydrobath. Once again the leap dog properties of that one are extraordinary. With the dogs washed I headed off to Redcliffe for an amateur production of The Little Mermaid.Example Two. 2pm. The lights went down, the orchestra began to play and the air was filled with the unmistakable stench of vomit. A mother escorted the girl in the seat behind me from the theatre. Intermission revealed the full extent of the "damage". It was impressive. I fled the theatre during 20 minute break, hiding at the nearby lagoon to breathe in fresh air while the seats were cleaned. I must say it smelled a whole lot better in the second act. But before I braved the return to the theatre I couldn't help but notice the seagulls were also just a bit flightly when it came to the penguin sculpture in the middle of the lagoon. At least it wasn't vomit they were depositing ...
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