There we were, tired out from a good old session of chasing the yellow frisbee tonight and just on our way home, when we came upon my sister, Ellie, whose Mum is just back from Mexico. Exciting enough, but they'd just met up with "Mum's" daughter-in-law and grandson, who were out with 6 month old Rottie, Molly.
What a soppy dog! Only half grown and all soft and gangly, unco-ordinated and clumsy, like all young dogs are when their limbs are growing faster than their sense of how big they are. This called for an all in chase about and "give-as-good-as-you-get" bundle. Dad was delighted. Sometimes, he says, when we sisters get together, Ellie tends to do the submissive and lets me get away with beating the living daylights out of her, and sometimes (he also alleges) I have been bounced at by an unco-ordinated pup and have run off squealing like a stuck pig, doing my "drama queen" bit. It's gonna KILL me!!!!
Not this time. Balance seems to have been suddenly restored (maybe I've been practising on Rags). Ellie, Molly and I (plus Haggis while his tired old-boy strength holds out) run and chase and bark and wrestle as equals, no-one getting the better of any other, and no-one allowing anyone the peace to lie down and rest, racing in big figure-of-eight patterns, barging occasionally into human legs (mainly Molly there!), and carrying on when joined by Dad's allotment chum Stephanie, and her black collie cross Monty, and brown non-descript terrier Charlie. That just seemed to give us a new lease of life.
Tired? We've all collapsed back here after our supper, and we are rather hoping Dad will settle down with the TV and not move all evening.
Deefski
Monday, 15 September 2008
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Kes comes a-visiting
Dad must work today so he's out early for a while - long enough that the Angel B spots the missing car and volunteers to let us out for a chase about. It's a beautiful warm day, so we can stretch out on the terrace and watch the world come and go. The Geordie roofers working on the "Home-for-the-Bewildered" behind us shout to each other and sing along to the reggae music on the radio. Very surreal - No Woman No Cry in an "Auf Wiedersehen" accent.
We get a nice walk round the allotment, and Dad spots that the new French beans are pick-able, so returns with hoe to do a bit of hoeing, and bags to harvest into - beans, chard, toms, courgettes, salad potatoes, raspberries and a carrier bag of perpetual spinach. So much in fact that he can pass a bit to the neighbours
He heads for the SB Cambria (barge) hoping to deliver a saved newspaper to da boss (Basil), but Basil has swapped his volunteer shift out with friends Mark and Cath, and the Jack Russell, "Kes". Dad invites these guys back to the terrace for tea after their stint, and we get to "welcome" Kes into our abode. Welcome? Meg and Haggis, quick sniff, decide it's Kes and are immediately chilled out to the idea of this "invasion" (especially when Mark and Cath make a fuss of them).
Me? I'm not so sure and I have a few gruffs and growls along the way, not sure if this interloper should be here, or be borrowing my stuffed robin toy, or getting on my Dad's lap. I settle down soon enough though, and we wander round each other being polite, but keeping a wary eye.
And then there's the rock! Kes has a thing about rocks. When she gets bored she attacks them. She chooses a likely one, about fist sized and starts paw-ing at it with her front feet, the pouncing on it, dragging it towards her using her paws, and scratching all around it vigorously, as if there might be a mouse under it. Kes and the rock are soon zooming across the ground in a bewildering battle.
On this occasion, I'm on Dad's lap, looking down at her warily, when she suddenly starts poking at a suitable pebble, in the pebble-gutter at the edge of the terrace, then pulls it out onto the terrace. I am outraged, leap onto the patio table and shout loudly at her "Yaff!". She stops, taken by surprise at my shout, but then starts on the rock again, dragging it across the terrace, and reversing herself in front of it. I try a few more shouts, but she keeps going, so I have to lep' down off the table and check this out. She won't listen to me and I shout at her to stop till the humans, looking on in bewilderment and confused amusement, shut me up.
The nerve! Moving Mummy's rock like that!
Deefer
We get a nice walk round the allotment, and Dad spots that the new French beans are pick-able, so returns with hoe to do a bit of hoeing, and bags to harvest into - beans, chard, toms, courgettes, salad potatoes, raspberries and a carrier bag of perpetual spinach. So much in fact that he can pass a bit to the neighbours
He heads for the SB Cambria (barge) hoping to deliver a saved newspaper to da boss (Basil), but Basil has swapped his volunteer shift out with friends Mark and Cath, and the Jack Russell, "Kes". Dad invites these guys back to the terrace for tea after their stint, and we get to "welcome" Kes into our abode. Welcome? Meg and Haggis, quick sniff, decide it's Kes and are immediately chilled out to the idea of this "invasion" (especially when Mark and Cath make a fuss of them).
Me? I'm not so sure and I have a few gruffs and growls along the way, not sure if this interloper should be here, or be borrowing my stuffed robin toy, or getting on my Dad's lap. I settle down soon enough though, and we wander round each other being polite, but keeping a wary eye.
And then there's the rock! Kes has a thing about rocks. When she gets bored she attacks them. She chooses a likely one, about fist sized and starts paw-ing at it with her front feet, the pouncing on it, dragging it towards her using her paws, and scratching all around it vigorously, as if there might be a mouse under it. Kes and the rock are soon zooming across the ground in a bewildering battle.
On this occasion, I'm on Dad's lap, looking down at her warily, when she suddenly starts poking at a suitable pebble, in the pebble-gutter at the edge of the terrace, then pulls it out onto the terrace. I am outraged, leap onto the patio table and shout loudly at her "Yaff!". She stops, taken by surprise at my shout, but then starts on the rock again, dragging it across the terrace, and reversing herself in front of it. I try a few more shouts, but she keeps going, so I have to lep' down off the table and check this out. She won't listen to me and I shout at her to stop till the humans, looking on in bewilderment and confused amusement, shut me up.
The nerve! Moving Mummy's rock like that!
Deefer
Friday, 12 September 2008
Something borrowed
The big black and white Great Dane we'd seen out with Gigot and family turns ourt to be a "borrow" with Gigot's owner looking after him for her own Father. He is, apparently, very "naughty" and had to be kept on the lead. That reminds me, "Long John" with the two Danes, "Rudolph" and "Valentine" which Haggis knew from pup-dom, has not been seen out in ages. We knew they were getting on a bit, and Danes never live to a great age, so with Haggis now 12, we all assume they have gone the way....
Yesterday we are given a treat - a walk at Reculver
http://www.bestloved.com/attractions/reculver-towers-and-roman-fort-in-reculver-kent-the-south-england-uk.php
The towers at Reculver were, as "any fule know" used for practise line-ups in bombing runs by the Dambuster squadrons when the Barnes Wallis bouncing bombs were being developed in the war (cue theme music). There are now interpretive signs in the carpark, to prove it !
Tonight we are on "soul food" - bangers, bacon, eggs and beans. Dad has allegedly had a bitch of a week, which is now shaping up to be a doozie of a weekend as he's on call. There's been a fire in the Channel Tunnel, "Operation Stack" has been invoked and traffic chaos in Kent is the order of the day. Basically, no-one can get across the channel using that route, so all the backed up HGV's are stacked in the lanes of the M20. We're all used to it - it's probably a monthly occurrence at least, at this stage - if it's not fierce storms, or French customs men, it's French farmers blockading the ports or something like this fire.
Deep joy
Deefski
Yesterday we are given a treat - a walk at Reculver
http://www.bestloved.com/attractions/reculver-towers-and-roman-fort-in-reculver-kent-the-south-england-uk.php
The towers at Reculver were, as "any fule know" used for practise line-ups in bombing runs by the Dambuster squadrons when the Barnes Wallis bouncing bombs were being developed in the war (cue theme music). There are now interpretive signs in the carpark, to prove it !
Tonight we are on "soul food" - bangers, bacon, eggs and beans. Dad has allegedly had a bitch of a week, which is now shaping up to be a doozie of a weekend as he's on call. There's been a fire in the Channel Tunnel, "Operation Stack" has been invoked and traffic chaos in Kent is the order of the day. Basically, no-one can get across the channel using that route, so all the backed up HGV's are stacked in the lanes of the M20. We're all used to it - it's probably a monthly occurrence at least, at this stage - if it's not fierce storms, or French customs men, it's French farmers blockading the ports or something like this fire.
Deep joy
Deefski
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Poppy's in da House
little brindly girl! I suppose the face does look a bit westie-pup shaped, but then I've never seen a Sheltie pup so only time, I guess, will tell what the final dog looks like. She is still enjoying herself and settling in well, and reportedly "too active to photograph well".
You go girl!
Deefski
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
4000 views!
Can I just say here that we've now passed 4000 views - famous or what? Thank you all for your interest. We are, though, beginning to think that maybe as my 2nd birthday approaches, enough is enough. Been here before, I know (about a year ago in fact!), but watch this space. My birthday is 17th Sept.
Meanwhile in "new-kids-on-the-block" dept, we have regularly now seen Gigot's family out with a black and white Great Dane. We have yet to cross paths and ask whether this is a new recruit, or a borrow. Also, Dad's friend Shirley has now taken delivery of the sheltie x westie "Poppy" (also known as "chav-dog"). We've seen mobile-phone pics but not in any format I can pass on yet, but as soon as I do, I will.
She looks a darling little thing with a westie-pup shaped head, but only her feet are white. Her body is like a brindled or tortoise-shell cat. Apparently she's really good, already "asking" (little cries) to be let out of the house to poo, on account of being allowed in and out all the time with her Mum. A feisty little thing too by all accounts, so proud of having wee'd on the special sanitary mat, that she then showed off by savaging (and ripping up) the said mat!
The humans are currently weaning her onto the idea that some of her time she will be left in the house alone, starting off with half hours and building up, and she seems quite cool with that. Good at night too, apparently - nice and quiet.
Good luck Poppy - you've landed on your feet this time!
Deefski
Meanwhile in "new-kids-on-the-block" dept, we have regularly now seen Gigot's family out with a black and white Great Dane. We have yet to cross paths and ask whether this is a new recruit, or a borrow. Also, Dad's friend Shirley has now taken delivery of the sheltie x westie "Poppy" (also known as "chav-dog"). We've seen mobile-phone pics but not in any format I can pass on yet, but as soon as I do, I will.
She looks a darling little thing with a westie-pup shaped head, but only her feet are white. Her body is like a brindled or tortoise-shell cat. Apparently she's really good, already "asking" (little cries) to be let out of the house to poo, on account of being allowed in and out all the time with her Mum. A feisty little thing too by all accounts, so proud of having wee'd on the special sanitary mat, that she then showed off by savaging (and ripping up) the said mat!
The humans are currently weaning her onto the idea that some of her time she will be left in the house alone, starting off with half hours and building up, and she seems quite cool with that. Good at night too, apparently - nice and quiet.
Good luck Poppy - you've landed on your feet this time!
Deefski
Thursday, 4 September 2008
Madge is a bloke
We've mentionned before, I'm sure, a westie we met in the Rec, who was, then quite a young pup. We met again the other day, and had quite a nice run around. The owner was slightly anxious in case "Madge" got a bit too excited and killed us three, but there was no danger and we charged about giving as good as we were getting. Dad spotted that "Madge" appeared to have bits undernieth not appropriate to a dog named "Madge". "Madge?" he quizzed the owner. "Umm.... it's short for 'Majic' but it does confuse people!" she said
The Kentish Hoppers 2CV group are back up to their camping tricks, but it's windy and showery and not at all good camping weather. Dad (and Megan), still a bit fed up with wet windy camping after Yorkshire, is not at all sure we will pitch this time - we may wuss out and just do day-visit.
Today, anyway, we had to get the 2CV round to 2CV-Llew's to drop the fuel tank out and cure the sucking-air leak. Excellent opportunity for we dogs to meet up with tea-drinking, beer-slurping Jack Russell, "Rosie", and to chase about Llew's out-buildings and old abandonned commercial greenhouses looking for rats
From there we headed for the camp site, there to help the guys erect the big party-tent marquee, rig up power cabling and set out safety notices and what not. Excellent opportunity for me, as usual, to get sump oil all up my back, horse poo well smeared into my chin, cheeks, neck and chest, and that general camping-westie grubbiness. Unfortunately, because we are not pitching tonight, when Dad comes home for supper, I get bathed back to innocent whiteness. Mum will never know!
...and Dad's friend Shirley, who sadly lost her Westie "Penny" a good year ago now, is getting a new pup - picked it up last night. Always intending this to be another westie, they fell in love with a cute westie x sheltie cross, which "looks a bit like a chav westie, in a pale biscuitty brown". (So says Shirley). We have yet to see any pics of this dog, which is named "Poppy", but Poppy, if you're collected yet and now "with us" we look forward to meeting you.
There's always tomorrow
Deefski.
The Kentish Hoppers 2CV group are back up to their camping tricks, but it's windy and showery and not at all good camping weather. Dad (and Megan), still a bit fed up with wet windy camping after Yorkshire, is not at all sure we will pitch this time - we may wuss out and just do day-visit.
Today, anyway, we had to get the 2CV round to 2CV-Llew's to drop the fuel tank out and cure the sucking-air leak. Excellent opportunity for we dogs to meet up with tea-drinking, beer-slurping Jack Russell, "Rosie", and to chase about Llew's out-buildings and old abandonned commercial greenhouses looking for rats
From there we headed for the camp site, there to help the guys erect the big party-tent marquee, rig up power cabling and set out safety notices and what not. Excellent opportunity for me, as usual, to get sump oil all up my back, horse poo well smeared into my chin, cheeks, neck and chest, and that general camping-westie grubbiness. Unfortunately, because we are not pitching tonight, when Dad comes home for supper, I get bathed back to innocent whiteness. Mum will never know!
...and Dad's friend Shirley, who sadly lost her Westie "Penny" a good year ago now, is getting a new pup - picked it up last night. Always intending this to be another westie, they fell in love with a cute westie x sheltie cross, which "looks a bit like a chav westie, in a pale biscuitty brown". (So says Shirley). We have yet to see any pics of this dog, which is named "Poppy", but Poppy, if you're collected yet and now "with us" we look forward to meeting you.
There's always tomorrow
Deefski.
Monday, 1 September 2008
More Mayors than you can shake a stick at
It's Hop Festival weekend this weekend and the town is choc-a-block with people and crawling with Morris Dancers. They seem to descend on the place as if it's some kind of Morris-ing convention, with several "sides" performing at once up and down the main thoroughfares; blackened faces, bells, staffs clashing, decorated wes'c'ts twirling in the breeze. The "people" themselves all seem to be wandering around with pints of Shep's various products in plastic take-away "skiff" type "glasses", a cause of much anguish to thirsty, glued-to-his-post Dad on such a hot day.
Dad's own part in this is to avoid Morris dancers and head for the Standard Quay, where-at the Visitor Centre for the Sailing Barge Cambria. It's being opened officially (although it's been open all Summer really) by the Mayor of Swale, cutting the ribbon, hacking chunks out of the cake etc. In fact, the M-of-S is actually wandering about in a gaggle of other Cinque Port Mayors. I gather they each try to support each others' functions when possible, and I'm guessing a beer-rich Hop Festival is a prime attraction. So we have 9 dignitaries in fact opening the Centre. How posh are we?
We also have our own folk band, who one of our lot borrows from Deal on a reciprocal basis - the Deal Hoodeners, who perform a variety of Sea Shanties before also retreating for a well earned beer.
Too hot for dogs, really, though, and we head for the shade.
Deefski
By the way, traffic on this site seems to have suddenly picked up. We have approaching 4000 views and we are getting visited 60-70 times a week. Thank you all for your interest.
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