Be the Woman You were Born to Be with Guru Kaur

It Wasn't In The Contract

Thursday, 23 August 2007 by Millie-Pup

Dear God

When you asked me to come and be an angel for Guru Kaur and her household, I jumped at the chance.  I mean who wouldn’t?  And as the prettiest little doggie on Planet Earth, what joy!  But, listen here, will you.  You said that I could arrive at the beginning of summer so I could enjoy playing outside, see some of the beautiful English countryside bathed in that Edwardian sun from those Vaseline lensed photos you enticed me with, have balmy picnics in the twilight till late at night, and generally have a proper holiday before the hard work of the winter sets in loving Guru Kaur as we start to go out and about.  Well, it’s not like that is it?  My definition, which obviously comes from my noble Italian breeding, of summer is hot, sultry, sunny, blue skies wrapped around floating clouds of dresses billowing in the warm breeze.  I imagined my coat fluttering in tune with Guru Kaur’s chiffon as we lazily meandered around the ecological park as if it were the depths of Wessex.  I heard the sound of laughter and bare feet, shoes kicked aside (so I could chew on them), and the flapping of sails as the children capsized on Greenland Dock just delighted to cool off.  I smelt the heady heights of jasmine, roses and freshly mown lawns.   I felt the softness of Guru Kaur’s warm body without woolly jumpers.  I could even taste the freshness of the early morning dew when we went out to enjoy our own company in the stillness of the dawn.

What happened?  Because what’s happening outside this window wasn’t in the contract.  I’ve looked in the small print and it’s not even there as a disclaimer.  Quite honestly, it’s not on, it simply isn’t done to pull the wool over an innocent angel’s eyes with all this grey raincloud.  I’d even got used to the idea of going for a walk.  Then this…

Guru Kaur says that the sun is still shining, it’s constant, it never stops, it’s just sometimes we can’t see it.  Yeah, right.  Because you’ve gone and parked this wet stuff in the way, that’s why.  Guru Kaur told me to meditate and see the sun.  OK.  But it doesn’t make it any nicer to go out and come back with a damp blanket stuck round me that I can’t shake off, instead of my rather beautiful locks.  Then she said there’s no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.  It’s all right for her to say that, she’s got pink gum boots, a Mac and a brolly.  I don’t.  What are you going to do about it, God?  Please make it better out there.  I want to practise my bathroom skills and there is no way that I’m going out in this.

Love From


PS a raincoat won’t do, I’ve got one but it’s too big and I refuse to wear galoshes



Millie-Pup lives at Club 15CC wtih Guru Kaur, Nick Fleming and Hari Karam Singh in one of London's best kept secrets.  Her desert island luxury would be an endless supply of homemade apple and cinnamon biscuits, her book the Physiology of Taste, and her one record Albatross by the Fleetwood Mac.  She likes a gentle summer breeze, wild flowers and Bougainvillea, prefers window seats with a sunny aspect and anything in a tasteful shade of pink.

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