Let sleeping dogs........

After lots of years of trying, Dad and his allotments gang have finally obtained grants to fence in the public foot path. The work will be done by proper contractors, but the ground works and clearing up of old fencing will be done by Dad and his merry men. When we say "old fencing", this is, of course an allotment site where the spirit of recycling and "make-do-and-mend" is ingrained in the culture. Old fencing is pallets, bed frames, brambles, sheets of corrugated iron and so on.

So it is that we have been up there today with loppers, pruning saws and forks but also wire cutters and crow-bars.

With Mum away with Diamond in Glasgow, Dad's been seeing to it that we don't feel hard done by, so a treat today of raw pork ribs saw us OK, and Dad has been coming out in solidarity with Glasgow, with a supper of haggis, neeps and tatties. At one point a glass of Glenmorangie was calling loudly to him, but he's pleased to say he resisted, and stuck to traditional Scots Rioja (!)

Now, as you can see, we are all watching West Wing. Glued to it we are. That's "H" on the leather sofa, me up on the back of the sofa against the wall, and Meggie on the dark blue arm chair. You can tell it's a gripping political drama, and just up a westie's alley.

Deefski

Acts and Omissions

2 days ago I gave kill scores for all three of us.

How your sins will find you out - I am shamefully reminded that that score card is not complete.

Look back far enough in this blog (April 2007 should do it, or just look for the posting called "What a difference a day makes") and you'll find reference to a completely unfounded allegation that I once killed a robin. Worse, It is said that it was one of the breeding pair setting up to breed that year in Dad's new nest box among the clematis tangle. Me? I don't remember that at all, so "they" must be making it up.

We are also reminded that Megan's score should include a certain Irish (Silverwood) Hamster. There on a visit before I was born, Megan locked onto watching the family hamster in one of those modern cages made of transparent plastic tubes. Trans-fixed, she would not be distracted at any price, her little brain slowly sussing out that if she were to nip the tea-towel between her teeth on which the cage rested on the coffee table, and lean backwards with enough force..... she might just pull the cage down on top of herself with enough force that the plastic tubes would burst open and........

Ah dear.

Deefski

PS - and yes, Mr Silverwood. The "half a squirrel" kills were just a team effort with H and M grabbing either end of the same squirrel. It was still one body when it expired, just doubly chewed.

Gimme a break! I'm a Terrier!

Dodger

With everywhere in the UK except here apparently blanketed in snow, it seems like a good idea to stay put. Diamond and Mum though, decide to jet off to Glasgow to meet a gang of chums for some socialising over the weekend. Look out Glasgow. While they're still in the air it comes on "Sally Traffic" that Aberdeen airport is closed with all flights being diverted, so we are waiting to hear whether the Dynamic Duo are down safely.

Here, as I said, just rain, all be it very cold rain with a definite nip in the air. Won't take much to turn it into wintry showers. On the Rec we meet another new kid - 3 month old red and white staffie, Dodger. Very sweet. He's quite timid but we seem to bring him out of himself and he's soon chasing about. Megan (tart) as usual changes from stately Dowager Duchess to coy young thing bouncing around and flashing her eyes at the "young man". Cradle-snatcher, I say.

Have a great weekend

Deefski

Killer Queen

The dog-owners have reclaimed the Rec after the snow-man builders retreated in the thaw, so we've had a good walk tonight in which we meet old friends Alfie the young Cav, and Patch, the rather portly JR. I also run away screaming from bouncy young new-kid-on-the-block brown-bear of a Newfoundland "Ava". She may not have got within 4 feet of me but I was outta there screaming like a stuck pig.

But the fun started when we got home and I dive straight under the kitchen sink and start squeaking like I'm in prey mode. I never go under there, so Dad suspects we either have a mouse or a rat. He starts removing cleaning materials and searches with a torch but to no avail. Eventually it all goes quiet, we all relax and off he goes to chop wood.

This is my cunning plan! If he'd known there was a squirrel there and what I was about to do to it, he'd have spoiled my fun - all that nonsense about humane traps and re-releasing them.... pah! While he's down the shed chopping the kindling I drag the little varmint out and by the time he gets back I have it despatched and on display on the hall floor.

Our running scores are now

Haggis: 1 slug and half a squirrel (joint kill with Meggie)

Megan: 40-odd rats during the chicken residence plus half a squirrel

Deefer: 2 squirrels

I may not yet be in the premiership, but Meg's hunting days are over and I am still a young dog....... Bring it on

Deefer

Coincidental Shar-Pei

What a co-incidence. We only know of one Shar Pei among our friends, and that's 8 year old "Summer", a rescue bitch, who belongs to a colleague of Dad's, and he was only commenting this week to her that we've never seen a Shar pei around these parts.

So tonight we come across in the snowy Rec, a yound lady out walking a 12 week old, dark furred Shar pei called Arnie, along with an older, scruffy mongrel terrier, Tyson. Yeah, we know - normally the names that, according to the cliché go with pit bulls, studded leather collars and tattoo'd skin-head owners. Not this time - sweet little lady owner in her 20's. we guess, and two very calm lovely dogs. We had a nice chat.

Just goes to show

Deefer

Tortoise-shell Shih Tzu

Well, the snow fell, such as it was, and has now largely gone again. We never get that lucky, so a couple of inches is all we've come to expect, and no photo's were taken - Dad has albums worths of "westies in mediocre snow" shots. He's holding out for a decent dump. Just a few miles away, in Rainham, they tell of 6-10 inches, but not here. Still, Dad had the fun of a snow-bound 2CV ride to work, as Mum wanted the "normal" car for a run to Ashford.

The kids must also have a day off school, because there are dozens of them on "our" Rec. The snow, although only shallow, is that good, wet ball-able texture, and the kids are struggling to roll up bigger and bigger balls, some to make snowmen, others just to push the ball till even 8 or 9 of them can push it no more, so they leave it there.

Toboggans are a new one to me, and definitely need shouting at. I am eventually put back on the lead when Dad gets fed up with this, and also worried that the kids around the sleds think it is them I am barking at and get scared. Fun though, while it lasts.

We meet a striking, almost tortoise-shell coloured Shih-Tzu called Seamus. We didn't know they came in those colours - mixed white, greys and browns, but apparently so. He's a nice chap and we have a good run around with him.

But that was yesterday. Today drizzle has pretty much washed away the snow and the thaw has rendered the surface of the Rec very sloppy and greasy. We meet Diamond out walking with Rags, so the humans amble round at Meggie speed (she's OK on dry tarmac, but slows down over frozen snow or mud) while Rags, Haggis and I have a scamper about. At one point Rags races off to greet, rather boisterously, a terrier about half a mile away across the Rec, and in another we get Mollie the Greyhound doing one of her "fly-pasts" .... Voooooosh!

Deefski

DEFCON 3

That Cyril will be the death of us all. He's back this morning and a-scampering around above our heads as we lie reading the papers (well the humans are anyway). There must me more than one hole.... take us to Def-Con 3 !!!

The humans have got hold of a boxed set of West Wing DVDs and have definitely been overdosing on the White House and all things politically American.

I am taken up into the loft to explore, and Dad checks the trap to find it empty but un-sprung. Cyril has had the peanut butter-smeared walnut off the spike without springing the trap, and the evidence (clean, neatly halved walnut shell a couple of yards away) has Mum saying "Clever little devil, isn't he...." Too clever for his own good if you ask me. Dad, I was enjoying that scurry around in the loft and just because I wouldn't come back for an hour, there was no need to grab me by the scruff and haul me out of there!

So, as the wind started to blow and the snow started to fall, Dad had the extension ladder out front and a can of "No More Big Gaps" (it's an aerosol can of expanding foam which sets hard in the cavity) in one hand. He was up at gutter level filling all the visible holes with the stuff.

The trap is re-set with cheese and peanut butter, and we await developments.

Pictures of pretty snow soon, all being well. It's coming down impressively at this stage. We still won't beleive it till we see it, though, lying on the ground several inches thick.

Look after yourselves

Deefski