That's not to say I don't enjoy an outing to some new place, especially if it involves lots of off-lead running over the hills or through the woods of course.
Ever since I was a wee puppy I have been visiting Nottingham, which is where I am now. I soon learned there was a different routine here with the Human Grandparents, but it was a nice one, involving walks by the River Trent and afternoon tea and cakes in front of the telly (BBC News Channel).
It has been over a year now since Human Grandad lived here. When I last saw him he was in a different home, and then I had to get used to not seeing him at all.
The house has felt a bit empty, but there was still Human Granny. I got into the habit of resting my head against her arthritic foot every evening as she ate her dinner very very slowly.
But last week, everything seemed to change again. I noticed HGY needed help walking, and then couldn't walk at all. Doctors came and went. On Sunday I overheard Gail, sounding very anxious, saying again and again: "No Mother, I'm not Peggy I'm GAIL. Your daughter Gail, remember".
Then on Sunday night, in the middle of the night, my beauty sleep was disturbed when a big van with flashing lights arrived in the driveway and next thing I knew two burly gentlemen were carrying HGY down the stairs and into the van.
I haven't seen HGY since, but Gail tells me she is in hospital, very ill. The doctors seem flummoxed and the earlier diagnosis of Parkinsonism is now in doubt.
Oh I do hope Human Granny is going to be OK. I am missing her ever so.
This afternoon I am going to tell Gail to make a proper cup of tea, in a warmed tea pot covered by a tea cosy, then to drink it from a nice china cup with a saucer, sat in front of the TV tuned to the BBC News Channel, and we can pretend everything is just the same.
I don't like change.
|When is Human Granny coming home?