The Great Escape!

I think the whole world knows by now that Austin was missing for 13 hours this week!

Talk about overreacting! I was beside myself - which is actually very difficult to do in reality.  It all happened like this: Sitting comfortably?

For the benefit of non UK readers of this blog, I'd better explain the tradition of Guy Fawkes Night. Way back in 1605 some Catholic malcontents who were fed up with the Protestant King James I, decided to blow up Parliament in this thing called "The Gunpowder Plot".  You can read about it in Wiki, but that's about the crux of it.  Oh except they failed and were caught! Guy Fawkes was one of them and because he had the right name, it was decided that henceforth there would be celebrations in the form of fireworks and the ritual burning of an effigy on Guy Fawkes night. Spooky isn't it! You would think that Mr and Mrs Fawkes when coming to name their precious child, would twig that he might get up to no good at a later date! 


Anyway, being the peace loving, forgiving nation that we are, we have of course celebrated this avidly, religiously and with great gusto every year since, on November 5th.

However, the lame brain element within British society do seem to have a problem with dates i.e. successfully managing to organise a conflagration on a specific day is beyond them. This year November 5th came and went and November 6th arrived when one would think it was safe to let the cat out in the evening .... Well? No! Actually! Both Austin and I forgot. He went out at about 4.30 pm and before it got dark just before 5, all hell was let loose in a neighbour's garden. So much so that I, who had actually been in a war zone, thought we were being bombed! Of course, Austin, not being up on his history and politics, also thought we were being bombed and decided this was his opportunity to make a run for it. 

This was a rather silly thing to do, as the temperature that night went below freezing and even though he has a nice thick fur coat, I haven't, so it got a bit drafty trailing up and down the road in my winceyette clutching a flickering torch shouting "Here boy! Austin! Poo!". If nothing else the dog walkers and drunks passing by were highly amused!

To cut a long story shorter, he finally appeared the following morning at 6 with his fur all ruffed and a stary look in his eyes. Since then he's been doing his loaf impression a lot!

His bid for freedom was unwise, even if he does feel he was driven to it. It's cold out there! 


Austin's educational timetable now includes a couple of hours a week studying British history. Oh, and we've also agreed that he will no longer go outside at all between the months of October and December, just to be on the safe side!