Horace, Doris and Boris had taken to their wheels again.
There was a time when Horace pushed Doris and Boris faithfully trotted alongside. Then the tables turned. Doris’s hip op meant better mobility for her, but Horace suffered a minor stroke and took to Doris’s chair. While Doris pushed Horace, Boris became confused and persisted in clenching his jaws around Horace’s shirt sleeve and dragging him to the floor.
Doris became irritated with Boris’s behaviour and in a fit of pique, ran the wheels over his foot. Poor Boris then suffered the indignity of a visit to the vetinary surgeon and a pot on his back leg. Now he had to ride on Horace’s knee and Doris pushed Horace and Boris.
Rightfully ashamed of her tantrum, Doris laid the blame on her cataracts, so the doctor deemed her an unsuitable candidate for the responsibility of navigating a wheelchair carrying such a peculiar cargo; and told her to stop.
Horace partially recovered from his minor stroke and took to using a Zimmer frame. Doris had cataract surgery and was able to see Horace much more clearly now. She wasn’t sure that she liked what she saw.
“Horace, you’re not the man I married,” she said.
“Right! I’ll be off then,” replied Horace. Pulling on his flat hat he zimmered off into the sunset. Five minutes later he was back. He’d forgotten Boris.
“Horace you’re losing your marbles!” said Doris.
“Doris you’re losing your dentures!” said Horace. Doris visited the dental surgeon.
“You’re getting long in the tooth,” he told her.
“Have they grown?” she asked. “They’re the only two of me own left.”
Now Doris had clocked up a hip op, plastic lenses and a pearly white top set of choppers. Horace fully recovered from his stroke and Boris wore a yellow bucket on his head to detract him from chewing his foot pot.
Next door’s ginger pussycat freaked at the sight of Boris’s bucket and arched her back and hissed. Boris was offended so called round to pee on their doorstep!
A woman from Social Care called.
“Your neighbours are complaining,” she said. “You’re living in a muddle. You need to prioritise.”
Horace glared, Doris stared and Boris cocked his bucketed head to one side to sus the situation.
“We’re busy in the middle of our muddle,” said Doris indignantly.
“You need to plan the use your time more effectively,” said the woman.
“What’s she on about Doris?” asked Horace.
“Be blessed if I know Horace,” said Doris. Both looked at Boris who pricked up an ear and picked up the vibes. He lured the woman with his happy tail and toothy grin, then sneaked around the back and bit her bottom.
Social woman screamed, Horace startled, Doris panicked and Boris licked his lips. The paramedics were called. They wanted to know where the missing piece of bottom was so Boris slunk off under the bed and hid from them.
“Interfering busybody,” said Horace. “Coming here and wasting our precious time.”
“And muddling in our meddle,” said Doris. “Serves her right!”
Boris sniffed approval in the air so crawled out of hiding and strutted his stuff around the yard all day long.
The woman from Social Care sent a man from Animal Welfare.
“The dog needs to get out more,” he said. “You need a strategy. It’s all about time management.” Horace handed him first a length of string, and then the dog.
“I can’t take him!” snorted Animal man. “I haven’t got the time.” Horace glanced at his watch.
“It’s eleven ‘o’ clock. Have him back for his afternoon nap.” Doris threw back her head and guffawed like an old fish wife.
“Tell him he needs a strategy,” she said.
Boris joined in the fun and put two huge front paws on the man’s chest, looked him in the eye and did a big, wide, woofy smile revealing his admirable canines. Animal man began to sweat profusely while Horace and Doris looked on with interest.
Fearing for his life, and his bottom, he turned tail and bolted for the door but not before Boris had removed a sizeable piece of trouser revealing boxer shorts with pink spots.
Horace, Doris and Boris stood at the window and watched bemused as Animal man screeched off leaving nothing but the smell of burning rubber and a trail of dust.
“So what’s his problem?” asked Horace.
“He’s in a muddle,” said Doris. “He needs to learn to use his time more effectively!”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.