My friend Fletch

So the other week my friend Fletch finally convinced his waitress to take him for a visit. We’d been meaning to discuss the finer points of food bowl size and the benefits of lawns for some time, but he literally had to drag her over here, as it were.

I suppose bribing her with a pub lunch sealed the deal (note to self: waitresses respond well to food-based rewards).

Fletch and Bouffe meet

I had not realised Fletch is not exactly French Lop sized, what with being a Golden Retriever/Labrador cross, but then again, canine geometry is one subject I failed way back when while at the lycée technique. I felt somewhat embarrassed my rug didn’t prove big enough for the two of us.

Fletch and Bouffe nose-to-nose

Then again Fletch curls up pretty compactly because he’s considerate and kind like that and we were able to have a nice catch-up in reasonable comfort after all.

Lovely chap, is Fletch. He has to suffer the indignities of bathing at times, being being a dog he has developed an ingenious way of discouraging his staff from doing it all too frequently. Pop over to his blog to marvel at his ingenious Eau de Woof method. I think you’ll be impressed…

 

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