What does she expect? Takes me down to the beach in the car then gets mad because I don’t want to get in it again to go home. Tells me I was naughty, willful and an embarrassment, that I didn’t deserve to go swimming and would forfeit my biscuits when she got me home.
She says it was lucky the nice man got out of the car I was circling and offered her a half choke collar to try. I’d really dug my heels in, slipped my head out of my collar when she tried to pull me and, of course, I’m too heavy for her to pick up, being a sizeable 22 kilos of pure muscle.
With the borrowed collar I couldn’t get my head free so she and her rescuer were able to drag and shove me towards the car where I gave in and got in. Yesterday she bought one of those collars…
Her attention was distracted for a while when we got home as she found Marley on the doorstep with a teensy weensy mouse. He put it down, she shuffled him inside but later I saw him follow the trail it must have left scurrying out of the garden.
He was in trouble again later for trying to scratch his way into a new, unopened bag of cat food so I didn’t feel too bad at the end of the day cos it was one point against me but two against the cat. I call that a win-win.
Marley is getting it in the neck again. Been a really bad boy, double bad boy.
Last night mum was chopping raw chicken for risotto (she makes a lovely risotto) when the house phone rang. When she went back to the kitchen after only five minutes, the big grey beast was on the counter top, front paws on the chopping board, helping himself to the chicken! He got down pretty sharpish when she yelled. I just watched, horrified that any pet in this house would steal food. After all, we’re very well fed. (Please don’t look at the Oops! page; that was a very long time ago.*)
He already drinks water from any glass or vase he can find (and the bathroom taps) and, a few days ago, was caught sneaking milk out of my mum’s coffee mug.
Then this morning mum discovers a mangled pack of wet cat food – not an empty pack dragged out of a bin but an unopened pack, all teeth marks and oozing bits of ‘Select Fisherman’s Choice in Gravy’.
The Irish Aunt once had a cat who helped himself to unopened packs, even stealing them from other people’s houses. Helping himself in the house is one thing but I hope Marley doesn’t turn into a cat burglar. We would never live down the shame!
As a very good dog, I was allowed the leftover risotto in with my dinner. Yum, yum.
* Oops, how did this get here?
February 1 2015
I am six or, in human years, 42, which my mum says is HIGHLY significant. It is, apparently the answer to ‘life, the universe and everything’. Wow, I’m the answer to life, the universe and everything? Well, I think it’s well deserved.
I’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick, says mum. Stick, stick, there’s no stick in here! Not a real stick, a figurative stick. Eh? There’s a real stick in the yard; I know nothing about figurative sticks.
No she says (getting impatient now), 42 is the accepted answer to life, the universe and everything as discovered by author Douglas Adams. Hmm, so I’m not going to be a famous philosopher. In that case I think I prefer a real stick.
It’s kinda frosty here just now but that’s no problem to a tough dude like me. It’s been around -5c on the beach but the sun has been shining and it feels much warmer, especially as there’s no wind. If there’s wind my mum hates it because it blows her about and she gets sand in her contact lenses which is a nightmare for her.
She told me not to go in the water but there was lovely creamy foam so what’s a surf dog like me to do but have a splash and throw up the froth?
My mum had thoughtfully taken my new wrap down to the beach so that I could be cosy and drying off on the way home. When you’re drenched you don’t mind your tail being manhandled through the back end at all. Mmm, I love my surf wrap.
What a wonderful Christmas Day we all had – long lie-in, goose liver for breakfast (had to share with felines, unfortunately), doggy treats throughout the day and guests to fuss me. Then there was the fabulous present from the Irish Aunt and sprog – a doggy wrap for drying me off after the beach. My mum, who didn’t buy me anything, laughed and said I looked like a boxer! I’m not a boxer, I told her, I’m a springer spaniel (English)! A boxer – a fighter – about to go in the ring, wrapped in a personalised robe. Oh, I understand now…Surf Dog it says – yep, that’s me right enough, surfing spaniel superieur.
I had to model it yesterday, of course, but today we used it for real. I got really muddy on the playing fields with IA and sprog so it was a hose-down in the yard before I was allowed in the house. Not just in the house but in the sitting room where I’m usually dog non grata while wet.
It was very cosy and I had a fabulous sleep while it absorbed the water. Then my mum unwrapped me and hung it to dry for tomorrow.
I’m sure those cats are real jealous, not that you can tell from the disdainful looks on their faces – or is that cos they’re wearing bows?
You might think I’m daft, but I’m one of those dogs who is happy that Christmas only comes once a year. Yes, there’s a big day with lots of treats not normally allowed, but it’s torture being dressed up in reindeer antlers and asked to pose. I wrecked one pair but my mum bought new ones and continues to humiliate me. The cats, of course, will have none of it. Marley shrugged them off in a trice and Cleo made herself scarce. So it was muggins, as usual, who faced the camera. Next thing she’ll be hiring me out to Santa and I’ll have to pull that great heavy sleigh. At least I don’t have a red nose!
Marley (above) Cleo (left); far left – me trashing the antlers!
Back from a lovely trip to Scotland to see my Aunty Avril and my four-legged relatives again. I get to ride in the back seat of the car – fastened down, mind – when we go on a longer trip so I can see everything as we drive.
I had a wonderful time – three walks one day! – and my mum says I was thoroughly spoilt.
This is me in the car with my mum then out and about in the woodlands. My Aunty Avril believes in dogs getting lots of treats and I was allowed to sleep in my mum’s bedroom – no way is this tolerated at home! – so I could sneak up and snuggle in to her while she was asleep. And all thw while those pesky cats were home alone!
This is me having a happy time with Ben, and treat-time!
We didn’t get home without trauma, however. My mum took a detour to have the car washed and I was petrified – jumped right over into the passenger seat even though I was fastened to the seatbelt in the back! My mum said I was a wuss. That’s not fair – she knows I don’t like water from a hose!