And so the dance begins.

And so the dance begins. She got the dog, that's the first thing.
She rolled in at about half four looking pleased with herself with three more bags of Christmas shopping.
"Where you been?" I asked. Not unreasonably I thought considering she finished work at two fifteen.
"Shopping with our Vicci. You not dressed yet?"
"Dressed!" I tell her. "I wouldn't even be awake if you left me alone."
"Come on," says she. "We will have a cuppa then go to our Olwyn's to get the dog."
"What happens if Khan kills it?" I ask, knowing he won't, he only defends himself.
"Well," says she. "If they don't get on we will take her back."
"What about my tea?"
"You are having silverside, now get dressed." I am told.
Well, we went over, stopped at Aldi on the way because she hadn't wasted her daily quota of shekels.
There were a few tears from Olwyn because she wanted to keep the little dog but her other little dog was trying to kill it. That's the thing with bitches, they never get on.
Came back home, the little dog being nosey all the way, looking out of the car window.
I came in first and put the muzzle on Khan, £6.99 from Jackie White's, and as soon as Herself came in with the little dog in her arms Khan jumped up to greet her and the little dog bit Shirley Temple's hand in fear.
Since then the little dog has been running away from the idiot who wants to play with her. At the minute the three of them are up in the bedroom, and so the dance begins.