Stay Fudges, she tells me.
I am just nipping upstairs to fetch the washing.
Then I’m coming back.
Stay.
So like the good obedient Fudges that I am… I stay.
And I stay and I stay.
Eventually I give up staying and I plod my weary way up the stairs.
Those suckers exhaust me.
Gone are the days that I would spring up the stairs – two at a time.
It’s a real effort to drag my erm… not so skinny bod up to the top.
Although I do try to tippy toe down the passage to sneak up on mom, my toenails go clickty clack clicky clack on the tiles.
What do I find?
Mom sitting at her laptop thingy and there is no washing in sight.
Oh sorry my Fudgiewena, she says and gives me a smooch.
I just sat down quickly to answer an email and got caught up with something else.
Ghah!
I stand by the bed and roll my eyes in its direction.
Right! Well! Give us a lift then.
She hefts me onto the bed.
Sometime later she gets up and foofles in the washing basket.
She hauls out stuff and tells me…
Stay here Fudge.
I’m just going downstairs to put this in the washing machine.
She tootles off.
Much much later I hear her in the garden – chatting to my Em.
Hroofhrooof.
Oi! Hullo! You’ve forgotten your little doglet up here.
Stay Fudges – she yells up through the balcony door.
I’m coming now.
Right. Sure.
I roll around on the bed and emit several thousand of my magical fibers of joy all over their duvet.
I slobber on it too for good measure.
Chat chat chat.
I try to lean over the bed and peer into the garden.
Not so easy without getting off.
Eventually I give up and slide off the bed.
I sneak quietly onto the stoep.
Chunky chop bones!
She’s hula hooping.
Coming back soon my furry backside!
She looks up at me and waves.
I’m coming now Fudges.
Stay there.
I don’t think so!
You’re not having fun without me.
Down the stairs I charge, round the corner, just to find that she really is about to come back up.
Silly billy – she says.
I told you to stay!
Eish!
