No good can come of trying to be healthy, I know that now. Last weekend my sister and I decided we would try and stick together and fight the usual weekend temptations. Safety in numbers, right? So on the Saturday I packed an overnight bag for me and the Bons and we headed over to her flat in the city centre for a girls night in. A really safe, sensible girls night in. The plan was to snuggle on the sofa in our PJs, watch some awful, girl friendly comedies on Netflix and NOT drink any alcohol or eat any crap, and for the most part, that is exactly what we did. It didn’t go as smoothly as planned though.
We wanted to treat ourselves, so decided to order ourselves some of the less sinful veggie sides and some tandoori chicken from the local Indian while cooking our own brown rice as a compromise. Now, we decided to kill two birds with one stone and take the pup for a walk, picking up the food en route, which seemed like the cleverest idea in the world. Until, that is, we remembered what a nightmare Bonnie is on the lead. Bon’s is an absolute treasure off the lead – mud rolling and snack stealing aside – but on the lead? I think she knows she now wouldn’t be able to get away from any rogue children or strangers if they try to, shock horror, stop and give her a stroke, so she responds by basically freaking out at EVERYTHING. I can’t say I really blame her, I wouldn’t like THE PUBLIC deciding it’s ok to touch me uninvited either. But here is where Bonnie’s clever logic ends. Because if she had any common sense at all, if she did manage to somehow wriggle free from her harness (hey, it has happened before) she would dart off into the shadows where she could cower reasonably safely, wouldn’t she? Oh no. Bonnie instead thinks the safest place to run is DIRECTLY INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC. Yes, my little Beagle, who, in case you didn’t know, are supposed to be one of the most intelligent breeds, would prefer to seek solace in the one thing that is most likely to kill her. Go figure.
So, we attempted for a few minutes to stand still and read the menu outside the restaurant and decide what we wanted, but with Bonnie intent on dragging me under the wheels of an articulated lorry it just became too much of a chore, so we gave up and decided to order a takeaway. That couldn’t be the only thing to go wrong though, could it? Because it’s me. So no sooner had we begun the home stretch back to the flat, the heavens opened. It wasn’t just a bit of a downpour. It was apocalyptic, the world is about to end kind of rain and it was paired with gale force winds, the kind that blow the rain directly into your freaking eyes. Obviously we picked up the pace, but by the time we got back we were soaked through. My sister and I had little choice but to peel off our wet clothes and get into our PJs at the early hour of 7pm. Bons didn’t have that option of course, so spent the night wrapped in a snuggly blanket to get warm. I’m pretty sure she was just milking it after the first hour, but hey, she had just had a traumatic evening, so we let her off.
And do you know what was going through my mind as we ran for our lives (Ok, maybe not our lives. But ‘we ran for our comfort’ just doesn’t sound as dramatic does it?) I thought, “If we weren’t being healthy this wouldn’t have happened. If we weren’t being healthy, we’d be in the pub right now.”
So there you have it. Just drink, people. It’s way better for you!
Love,
Picking the Day 