Buzzed

Happy Birthday today , Dad. 50! Officially an old git! Nice cards from lots of people, but mean age-ist ones from his brothers!

He reckons on your 50th birthday you should do lots of things you want to do and nobody should make you do anything you don't want to do. He decides it's warm (hot) enough for us all to need a good ol' buzz over with the clippers, so out comes the wooden board, the patented non-skid sheet of left-over pond liner, and the tupperware box full of clippers, blade oil and bits and pieces.

We are rounded up one by one (I am last) and given the works. In Meg and the H's case, they also get a trim up around the feet, as their pads are so wide with fluff they look like snow shoes. Dad is, by his own admission, no expert, but he's getting neater with the practise and Meg and H say it's nowhere near as embarrassing to go out in public with recent efforts than it was when they were younger.

Anyway, I think I look quite neat and tidy - very smooth around my back, flanks, rump and neck - No 5 with the grain over most of it, against the grain up my neck, No 3 around my bum and a scissor cut round the head and ears and along the tail. I was very brave and did not object to it, except once when Dad disappeared round the back out of sight. I remember when he combed me once as a pup and caught a knot of tangled hair and made me yip. I thought it was going to happen again, so I yipped pre-emptively, but I was told to shoosh, and it went OK after that.

Cooler now in the sun

Look after yourselves. Humans are off to see chum Abdulk for a restaurant meal tonight, so we'll be left to fend, I guess

Deefer