The Dinner Party

It's always a very mixed reaction in our house when I announce that we're having a dinner party - the boys are always immediately very excited about the opportunity to act as chief food tasters and G looks as if he is entering an execution chamber.  This is not because he is unsociable, but rather because of the furore that surrounds having a dinner party in our house.  Not only does the normal mess have to be cleared away, but there suddenly springs up a requirement not only for our house not to look normal, but to look like no-one lives in it at all.  So any clutter gets shoved in boxes, children get scrubbed to within an inch of their lives, everything sparkles and gleams, cushions are plumped and husbands are despatched upstairs to change the trousers they have just donned for the evening... Throw a puppy into the mix and anything could happen...

With this in mind, and knowing that Muttley could not just be filed away in a box for the evening, I decided to warn everyone about attire and then take evasive action and get my guests inebriated, hopefully not before I did and forgot about the food...  All the guests arrived, the ladies in trousers, with the exception of R, who always loves a chance to get glammed up, who turned up in a gold sparkly dress... 'Nice dress,' I said, just before Muttley launched himself at her enthusiastically and she disappeared beneath licks and wags.  A couple of strawberry mojitos for all later, she had totally recovered herself, but the dog had disappeared beneath a torrent of kisses from T who was desparately trying to convince her dog agnostic husband of the benefits of being a dog owner.

For the actual dinner, Muttley lay happily in his bed, as I had cooked a curry, and didn't fancy seeing many happy returns of the spicy food the next day. However, I relented when it came to dessert, as in fact it had turned out a little disastrously, and what was supposed to be a sophisticated cardomom and bitter chocolate torte resembled something more like Angel Delight...  So as a distraction Muttley was allowed to the table to entertain with his newly learned tricks Sit and Paw while I assembled the cheese course, and by this stage even Sit and Paw were greeted with rapturous wine fuelled applause.  It was then that I discovered that  Muttley liked cheddar...  Whilst T was going in for another embrace (her husband was studiously avoiding her pleading eyes) Muttley nicked a piece of cheese from the plate and held it hidden in his mouth until she let him go.  Then he polished it off.  In disgrace, he sat at my feet, where I confess I forgot about him as we had recently bought an electric shock game that the men were playing with immense bravado at the other end of the table. Rather like a TENs machine crossed with Pass the Bomb, the excitement was in who was going to be given the electric shock.  Unfortunately it happened to be G, who leapt up from the table, showering both the man opposite and the dining room wall in red wine.

On seeing that the man of the house was in extreme danger, and having an opportunity to redeem himself, Muttley jumped up barking, hurling himself towards G and the women started throwing napkins helpfully over the wine soaked man.  Chaos ruled...

Now of course in the excitement, I had forgotten about the cheddar... and the puppy rule, that what goes in, comes out.  As I was saying a fond farewell at the door to my guests, one man said to another 'Hey mate, that curry's moving through you fast!'  'Not me' the other man replied... and suddenly we all clicked - our bleary eyes focussing in on two perfectly formed poos...'ARGHHH' shouted R, her fingers clamped over her nose and mouth, another lady guest looking a little faint...

Muttley simply sat there, his head to one side, and yawned.  It had been a long night and he was dog tired....