I take my duties as a senior mentor to the younger posse members very seriously so I was pleased to make the acquaintance, in the fur rather than virtually, of Bramble Coleman and young Parker from BT HQ. I have a suspicion Sir Clapton has been trying to keep me away from his youngster, I can't think why, but I managed a few words in his shell-like, whilst TT was getting the bacon rolls - it's not just BTs who can be distracted by food.
And talking of which, thanks to everyone who gave me a treat. I think I had one from pretty much everyone but if I didn't get to you, it wasn't through lack of trying. An honourable mention in dispatches must got to Mabel and Achie's humum, for baking delicious cakes for the hupeeps, and, even more importantly, delicious dog treats for the BTs. I even took some home with me for later - now that's what I call a doggy bag. Mabel is supposed to be on a special diet so she was wearing a 'do not feed me' harness which is a particular kind of torture for a BT. Anyway, Whilst her humum was busy sorting treats for everyone else, she managed to get into a lidded Tupperware box, no mean feet, if you'll excuse the pun, when you've only got paws, and did a bit of help yourself nomming! It does my senior heart good to see such promise in younger BTs.
Oh and Alfie, if you're reading this, I know I still cut an attractive figure, and you're a nice enough chap too, but I don't love you in that kind of way.......!
|Me, Barney and Bramble practising our hungry eyes|
|Age before beauty young Parker!|
|Where's the noms?|