Sue Cross

Sue Cross


Try this delicious home made sauce

May Day

We had found a way to raise money for the PDSA....


Was I liberated? I think so, thanks to the suffragettes

From the Convent to the Cavern Club

I escaped the confines of the convent to cross the Mersey to visit the Cavern Club

Mother's Words of Wisdom

My mother was a wise woman in my eyes...

Stuffed Mushrooms

Here's a little recipe that I tried earlier

The Acquisition

There it stood in all its glory...

An Ode to Calm

Keep calm and carry on breathing. I'm no poet but here's a little ditty...

Meandering Through Mauritius

It was on a hot summer night when it landed on me

The Happiest Days of Our Lives?

One of my earliest memories is my first day at school...

Paws for Thought

July 12, 2012 at 10:04 AM

This is a day in the life of a workingwoman. It’s true – it happened to me.

I felt that I was racing against the clock.  So, what’s new!  My life was a whirlwind.

I felt frustrated that I could not find a cleaner to help with the housework.  Running a business, though rewarding, was often exhausting.

I felt a sense of achievement as I pushed the ‘START’ switch on the washing machine.  Routine, though often boring, offered a sense of repetitive comfort.

I felt efficient as I pegged the clothes on the washing line.  The breakfast dishes were in the dishwasher.  How I loved that machine!

I felt pre-occupied as I made my way to the office.  A myriad of tasks awaited me there.  Each day offered new challenges, decisions and prioritizing.  The hours whipped by and, before I knew it, I was back in the car, heading for home.

I felt exhausted; a familiar feeling as I juggled business with running a home.  I knew that it would be fatal to sit down before starting to prepare the meal, as I would not want to get up again.

I felt hungry as I put the meat in the oven and prepared the vegetables.  I savoured a glass of Rioja as the meal progressed.

I felt a sense of mild foreboding as I brought the washing in from the garden.  Where was George?  He was getting older and lazier as the years went by, but by now he would have greeted us upon our return home from work.

I felt panic as I called out his name, “George, George, where are you?”  There was no response.  I went from room to room, looking for him.  He was nowhere to be found.  It was 7 o’clock on a Friday evening and the animal shelters would be closed for the night.

I felt drained the following morning after a restless night’s sleep.  Husband was going to a car show and his parting words before he left were, “Please try and find George for me.”

I felt a sense of responsibility as he drove away.  Recalling the previous day’s routine, I was aware that I had left the back door open as I pegged out the washing.  George must have followed me into the garden, and I had inadvertently locked him out for the whole day while I was at work.  He must have somehow escaped, and being a dog of very little brain, got lost.

I felt guilty, as it was my fault that our beloved pet had gone missing.  I started to phone the various animal shelters.  “Has anyone brought a Miniature Schnauzer in - he went missing yesterday and he was not wearing his collar and address tag?”  Our son called him a designer dog but George was really a scruffy mutt.

I felt a sense of relief as, on the third attempt, the reply was in the affirmative.  Apparently someone had reported a miniature schnauzer wandering around the road just behind ours and phoned the dog warden who had duly impounded George.

I felt irritation replace relief.  This road was just behind our back garden.  George must have got under the hedge and escaped.  He could have got back again if some well-meaning busy body had not reported him.  I was told that I could collect him that morning and would have to pay £30 to cover expenses.

I felt uncharitable as I begrudgingly handed over the money to the person in charge of George.  However, when I was greeted with yelps of joy and a wagging tail I would have paid almost anything to have him back. 

I felt excited as I heard car tyres on the gravel drive.  Husband was home and would soon be reunited with his faithful companion.  Naturally both parties were pleased to see each other again.

I felt cautious the following Monday as I pegged the clothes on the washing line after putting the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher.  This time, and each time after that, I firmly closed the back door after me.  I did not want a repeat performance of the previous week’s events.  The ironical thing about all this is that a year later the same scenario was to be repeated.  Our cat, Josie, was ‘rescued’ outside our house and taken to the cat shelter.

I felt like laughing this time.  It was such a bizarre thing to happen.  Resigned to the inevitability of this, I wrote a cheque to the animal shelter before retrieving a rather aloof cat of very little brain.

I felt relieved after having the animals microchipped. Now it is the law but it was not then.

I felt like getting a hamster or perhaps a canary - something I could keep in a cage.


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