Monday 31 March 2008

Good guys and villains

We dogs are on a mission today to confuse the humans, inspired by Rags's rescinded "asbo" and angelic behaviour hospital visiting.

First-Dad had been having problems with my Bro (Archie) and real-Dad (Hector) getting a bit difficult with each other - part of the reason why Archie has now been "done". As part of this, First-Dad had been seeking advice from a lady who does dog-training, partly because first-Mum was looking to make sure those boys didn't start to think they were the bosses.

Well, the trainer lady was last Friday and you'll not believe how angelic those boys decided to be. Maybe it was the "op", maybe the dogs were tired from a walk and a visit to the grooming parlour, maybe First-Mum's new get-tough approach has convinced them, but whatever the reason, training lady was both delighted and baffled, wondering why she'd been called out in the first place.....

Meanwhile, at the other end of the family, sis' Ellie is now causing concern for her Mum, Trish, by kicking off at a young Westie we've seen a couple of times, called, I think, Fleur, first shouting from the end of her lead, then growling and snarling. Most unlike her - Ellie's always as good as gold.... I'll let you know how that develops - maybe Trish will need to borrow that trainer-lady!

We know that about Ellie because we all met at the Rec at the end of our walks, along with a lovely soft, fluffy 4 month collie pup called "Molly" - you know that age when collies are still all rounded, and short-faced, without the sharp-pointed snout. Haggis, Ellie and I had a good romp about, chasing in circles.

I get the worst of this, because normally I chase Haggis and give him grief, but when Ellie's about, and I chase Ellie, H takes his chance to ambush me and unbalance my back end. I end up with two attackers on my case - one at each end. Ellie never tries to batter Haggis, nor Haggis to batter Ellie. It's like they're ganging up on me, referee!

Deefer.... from a dodgy family...

Sunday 30 March 2008

Water, Water, everywhere

Look! I didn't mean to take that impromptu swim in the "big pond" this morning. I just kind fell in when trying to harrass the end of the tadpoling net with which Dad was hooking out duckweed. Leant out too far, is all.... splosh! Had to swim across 4 feet of pond to scrabble out across a goose-foot plant in a sturdy pot. Dad raced to house (surpressing laughter) to get dog-towel from Mum, and got rubbed dry on the terrace table. Chilly! Sympathy from Mum? Some comment about "stupid little oicks"

Nice walk though -all round the boat yard and back through town. Across the Rec. Where there were plenty plastic drinks bottles and you'll already know that kill-the-plastic-bottle is a favourite game. I had a carbonated bottled-water bottle well subdued by the time we got to one of the main tarmac paths, where-upon we met a young Mum encouraging her tiny toddlers slowly in the direction of the swings and slides.

Can the children stroke the doggies? Says Mum. We are, of course, very amenable to this ourselves, and allowed these two tots to pet us. Mmm, Joked Dad to the lady - most dogs can put up with ordinary tap-water but this one (indicating me) has to have bottled because she's so posh. Mum laughed. Larger-of-the-two tots looked up at his Mum all big-eyed... "Is that true Mummy, or is this man being silly?"

Nearly choked on my bottle!


Thursday 27 March 2008

Barking Builders

I am known in these circles for being more of a loud, shouty, feisty girl than any previous westies, and it has got me into trouble many times.

Down at the bottom of our garden "they" are building 390 dwellings and a home for the bewildered. "They" in this case are dozens of lads, all of whom park their cars on a bit of short-term hard-standing laid just outside our beech hedge, which is pruned at the bottom to raise its "skirt", which means I can easily see under it.

That means it's great sport to have a shout at the lads each morning as they park up and get their hard hats, hi-viz jackets and boots on. It goes on as long as I can get away with it, before Mum, rousted from her breakfast or shower, or snooze by the racket, races down to grab me and shut me up.

Imagine Mum's surpriase yesterday then when she could hear someone, or something barking back at me. The builders! Having a rare aul' time winding me up by barking back at me!

How come Mum didn't race down the garden in her nightie and grab a few of them to shut them up?


Wednesday 26 March 2008

A shining example

Everyone is completely amazed and delighted by the "revelation" that is Asbo (Rags) as a hospital visitor. Daimond's Dad, Denis is now pretty much confined to hospital and he misses the daily contact he used to have with Rags, so Diamond agreed with the staff of the section where Denis is currently living, to be allowed to bring Rags in on a visit.

Everyone involved was very trepidatious about this - he's not got his Asbo for no reason (all be it , lately the humans have rescinded it). There was no limit to the chaos he could have caused, racing about, doing um... presents, annoying patients, wrecking the place.

He was let in the first time under the strictest controls, on the lead and for a pre-arranged limited time, supervised by the nursing staff.

He was, as I said, a "revelation" ! The perfectly behaved dog! Delighted to see Denis (and vice versa) but in a restrained, non-mad way, and everyone's idea of the best behaved dog you'd want in a hospital wing. Now, a few visits down the line he is let off the lead. He makes a bee-line for Denis and a fuss of him, but then trots obediently towards any of the other patients who call him over, never fussing them too much, never out-staying his welcome, leaving alone the ones who don't want to talk to him, never ever leaving those "gifts".

Everyone's idea, in fact, of the perfect "PAT" (Pets as Therapy) dog. The boy has found his niche, and we're dead proud of him, Denis Healey eyebrows an' all !


Monday 24 March 2008

Walked off our Feet

Bitter North wind today, but where it's been wintry-showering, Dad opts for Reculver rather than the sheltered-from-the-wind Forest because Reculver is not muddy. When we leave it's not showering - in fact it's quite bright and hazy sunny. We clamber over the mound where the church ruin is, then head southeast up behind the oyster farm to the railway tracks, to complete the "full circuit".

That's about Meggie's limit these days. When M+H were young this was about an hour at Dad's route-march pace, but now Meggie rolls along at her rolling gait happliy enough for the inland loop, but starts to slow as we rejoin the concrete sea-wall, breaking now and then into a slow walk, while she recovers. Dad slows down of course, and we amble home, in this case into the teeth of the gale. It's about an hour 45 mins now, which is about Meg's lot.

Well, I say "amble" - Dad and Megan "amble". For me and Haggis it's more of an "average speed = amble" thing. We are actually racing ahead, then behind, then ahead again, then I attack him for a playful bounce every now and then. Later in the walk, Haggis also slows to an actual amble, and I am left racing about, leppin' on and off walls, down onto the beach and back up, orbitting around the slow-moving (ambling) group of old gits.

This way we all get our fill of exercise, and by the time we get back to the car out of the wind, we are all done in. Walked off our feet. We have sufficient energy to make a fuss of very elegant Weimeraner, Arthur , in that beautiful mousey ghost-grey they have ("I didn't name him that", says the man, apologetically, "that was 'the wife' ". We think it's a very good name for a handsome boy), but fall asleep as soon as we hit the car seats. We hope Dad has sufficient energy to drive home without falling asleep.


Sunday 23 March 2008

Snow at Easter

The wind might have dropped a bit, but Kent is still feeling it as Northerly, and today it's laced with flurries of fine snow. That only starts once we're out walking, through the boat yard as it happens, so Dad is cursing not taking his gloves.

Plenty of people and dogs about that early - maybe it's an Easter Sunday thing. First nice meeting is with alsatian Star, now full sized at a year old, who we last met as a young pup. She's nice and quiet and gently greets all three of us, but is nervous with people, so Dad crouches and offers a hand, which she sniffs tentatively. Star's Mum is a top lady, who walks Star armed with little cubes of cheese to give out to randomly met cute westies as treats. We approve.

Next up is Max, bouncy young golden Lab who bounces around the three of us in a bit of an alarming manner and makes me squeak a couple of times. Can't completely lose that "drama queen" tag now, can I ? Finally, back across the Rec and looming out of the flurries of snow, with their humans all wrapped up against the weather, our old friends, Gigot the Bedlington, Truffles (chocolate lab) and Storm (Long haired chihuahua).

Shame about the weather. Dad was hoping to get up that allotment and finish the digging, but the snow makes that a bit unlikely. Might head up there anyway to see if there's any rubbish to burn, or tidying to do. We'll stay here, I think....

Happy Easter

Saturday 22 March 2008

Battle at Kruger

Hi - as a rule we never bother with You-Tube and videos but here's one you just HAVE to watch even if it's the only bit of You-Tube video you watch this year

...or punch "Battle at Kruger" into Google. Featuring a fascinating bit of "interaction" between Buffalo, Lions and Crocodiles. And don't worry - no gore or blood and guts - it's filmed from sufficient distance with hand-held videocam. Also... in case you're of a nervous disposition, don't give up on that baby buffalo.... but I'll say no more. Enjoy 8 minutes of cracking entertainment.

Meanwhile, our threats of wintry showers have so far resulted only in rain, all be it horizontal rain! Strong Northerlies too. Dad got cold enough, he says, playing with the project 2CV car yesterday, that he's foregoing the pleasures of allotmenting today in favour of green-house based wind proof gardening - setting spuds to chit, sowing seeds in trays etc.

That's good because that means we'll be allowed to "help" and mooch around looking for r*ts in the compost heaps etc.

We've already had a nice walk round the cemetery and met lovely young boy-westie Billy, and a very speedy sandy-coloured whippet with a smart red coat. We don't know his name - he joined us at 200mph diagonally across the Rec while his owner remained 3 hundred yards away, mooched around with us for a while, then vanished at 200mph back the way he came. Very sleek and fit!

Have a great Easter


Thursday 20 March 2008

Art Installation

Don't read this just before you eat your tea.... It's about poo. A subject, you'll agree, which fascinates we dogs, and to which we pay great attention, probably from too close a range, with our noses.

Children beware - all the usual warnings about Toxocariosis, worms and other nasties apply!

Megan wins this week's "stylish poo" award having planted a 3 inch one end on in the gravel garden in such a way that it stood, erect, poised, awaiting collection. Dad was amazed. Mum declared it was "practically an Art Installation". You want to be thankful we did not have a camera handy.

Meanwhile, with bad weather and snow forecast, Happy Easter, everyone


Tuesday 18 March 2008

Ecologically Sound

For me, as you know, a yellow, much-chewed, nearly-not-a-complete-ring-any-more frisbee is the toy of choice. Tonight, on the Rec, we met brown and white mongrel "Kit" who goes in for a more ecologically sound brand of toy, a wedge of tree trunk. The wedge, about 6 inches in any long dimension fits neatly in his jaws and he carries it everywhere, retrieves it when it is thrown, and puts it down carefully while talking to other dogs.

Takes all sorts, I guess. green anyway, whereas my Chinese-made, brought half way round the world, plastic, product of the petro-chemical industry has a bigger carbon footprint than .... than.... Haggis, or Dad at their most gaseous...

We also meet one of Dad's allotmenteers out with big black shaggy collie-cross Charlie, and brown terrier Monty. Monty charges around rather alarmingly and, when the yellow frisbee is thrown for me, chases me so closely behind I can hear his breath on my neck and I veer off self-conciously, out-psyched by the level of competition.

Having scared me off the frisbee, of course, he veers away too, more interested in playing with us than chasing stupid, non-green toys, and Dad quickly gets the hump having to walk that far to retrieve it because no-one else will!


Monday 17 March 2008

All Hail!

Beannachtai na Feile Padraig - one for all the Irish readers. And poor aul' Mammy's gotta work late. Yo Silverwoods! Yo Steak lady! Yo Theo!

We're no sooner indoors from our walk, than the heavens open and a hail storm blasts down, turning the terrace white (briefly). Winter has not quite lost its grip on us yet.

The frogs in the pond - after what seemed like a month of messing about and croaking, have finally produced some frog spawn. Just one lump, but it's a start. It seems like a full month since First-Dad announced theirs and Pud-Lady even longer. We may be NE facing on this bit of Kent, but that seems like a very long delay for a distance of 25 or so miles. We have seen toads too, in the pond, but so far none of their long strings of spawn, just a froggy lump.

We like frogs - we patrol round the pond encouraging them to leap in off the sides, with a splash. The we look in wonder and amazement in the direction of the splash, apparently unable to suss where the leaping thing has vanished to.

We have a new tree. Our poor old flowering cherry was struggling the last few years to produce any flowers or leaves, and was a bit of an ugly shape - one huge thick trunk, then a "starburst" of inch-thick mini branches all coming out of one boss 3 feet off the ground in all directions. Mum and Dad decided they'd had enough, so that's been decapitated, and replaced by a 15 foot tall whip of a very white-barked silver birch.

Hope it likes hail!


Saturday 15 March 2008

Parcel of Rogues

Mum and Dad were having a great laugh today about this website - it seems that the proceedings of the Old Bailey are now available on line, for the years 1674 to 1834 ( a bit before my time), so you humans can look up whether any of your predecessors were villains....

Now, I'm not saying I come from dodgy stock, but if First-Mum and First-Dad would just like to punch their surnames into the name search field of this website, there just might be a few returns. My own Dad's family name (including his brothers' given names Mark and Thomas) comes up loads of times but they were always acquitted. Good lawyers, says Mum. Mum's lot are Italian (Catholic) Hugenots (kicked out of more countries than you can shake a stick at!) so presumably their villainy was restricted to Ireland during this Old Bailey date range - either that or they are all shining innocent angels

Worth a laugh, anyway


Friday 14 March 2008

Poor Poor Bunny

My title line comes from a silly bit of video which the boys were watching on You-Tube (sorry, the link has long since escaped us, but you might get somewhere with "Man Flu") about man-flu, which shows paramedics screeching up in the blues and twos ambulance to tend a bloke with man flu, hustling his wife out of the way, then telling her to mop his fevered brow and say "Poor poor bunny" to him. It's become a standing joke at Dad's work.
Well, here's Archie on the day of his op looking for all the world like he'd appreciate a few humans mopping his fevered brow and commiserating with him. We love the pink stuffed-toy hippo, by the way. Every dog should have one.
If I'm not mistaken, that's the same marble hearth and same slice of "vet-bed" fleece that we have pics of showing his (and my) Dad, Hector, lying on when we were all new born pups. I will have to dig out some pics and compare.
Have a great weekend
Thinking of you, Arch'

Thursday 13 March 2008

Archie is Without

Brother Archie is back out of Hospital and recovering from the woozies (anaesthetic). He has been successfully separated from his bits, and by 12:15 was reported to be sitting up and accepting biscuits. Go Arch!

The way it's organised down there, at the vet they use, no operations are done on site - all the patients are transported to the practise in Sevenoaks in the practise Ambulance. Arch has been telling everyone this was an exciting ambulance ride, blue lights and dee-dah horns, crashing red traffic lights and driving on the wrong side of the road. However, we all suspect it was just a white van with "Animal Ambulance" on the side, being driven normally. You can never tell with Archie.

Good to know, anyway, that he's OK, and recovering well. By 6pm, says Steve, he's home and fine but "very quiet".

Good Man, Arch


Wednesday 12 March 2008

Afghan Racing

Not much of Crufts got us animated this year (must be getting blase), but one bit that made us sit up, whistle, jump off the settee and crowd the screen, was some footage of a bit of just-for-fun racing of Afghan Hounds. Fully shampoo'd and groomed out they were all flowing hair and waves of colour as they ran towards the camera, played back in slo-mo.

They looked to be loving it, and the ones whose turn it was just to watch were up on their hind legs at the spectator fence yipping with excitement as first the "hare" and then the dogs shot by. You knew they were having a whale, when the "out-takes" at the end had the dogs leppin' off the track, over the barriers, or turning round in mid race to run the other way

Can we do some of that, Dad?

We were reminded of that when Dad was commenting on how Janie, they brindled greyhound in Dad's 2CV club pub meet last night spent all night flaked out on her side. Not that long ago she was a restless thing , never relaxing, always moving from person to person asking for a fuss, or crisps and peanuts (never getting any - Pete and Josie are very strict about that, but it didn't stop her hoping). Now she's that much more grown up, she's quite the mature, sober-minded lady. No trouble in a pub


Tuesday 11 March 2008

Stormy Weather

Gales and driving rain blast through Kent and we have to sneak walk in between the worst of it. Meg chooses this moment to have a change of heart from a) Not wanting anything to do with the outside world if it is raining, to b) Ahh... come on Dad, it's stopped raining now, I want to zip along to the Rec and scamper about like a young one. There's no accounting for the Megster

The walk we snatch tonight as big black clouds roll in, but before they dump their load on us, is a well-populated one - lots of old chums are out including fast brown and white Jack Russell, Bindy, even faster, be-red-bandana'd brown Lakeland cross Bobby, beautiful goldie Chloe and the black collie cross with white toes and white chest-flash, Ben.

Meanwhile, news comes that it has come time to have bro' Archie "done". His day is Thursday, so good luck Arch - hang in there. Haggis survived - just a bit sore for a few days and licking the site as if licking could restore the former glory..... Won't work, Bro, but it's for the best.

Poor ol' boys. I guess my time will come too in the end, but no-one's talking about that yet.
By the way - latest site meter stats have this having been visited 1244 times and viewed 2180 times, with visits currently running at 14 per day. Nearly a best-seller!


Monday 10 March 2008

Moulin de what?

Ah well - another Crufts with no big prize for westies. Best Westie was, if memory serves, a French dog called "Touch of Class du Moulin de MacGregor" which by our translation means "of MacGregor's windmill". No... I have no idea either, but then who are we to speak when Haggis is actually "Zellick Joshua" by "Zandawn Renewable at Jusbar" out of "Pick'n Mix", and the Megster is "Romjil Star of Wondor" (sic) by "Jusbar Bosun Pickle" out of "Romjil Alexandria".

Anyway, the venerable Touch of Class was not shortlisted in the Terrier Group, so progressed no further, but well done him for getting that far - no mean achievement, obviously, and to all the other Westies who even got there. You have to be pretty good to even be allowed in, so "not winning" is nothing to be ashamed of.


Sunday 9 March 2008

Cat and Mouse

We had to smile at this one - Mississippi getting up close and personal with Mum's "working from home" laptop while she'd nipped off for a quick coffee. Mum had being doing website design, so perhaps Missi felt some feline input was required. I expect the web page is all the better for that, when Mum can find where she's clicked.

Severe weather warning tonight for us - strong winds and heavy rain. We are all home though, safe and warm, and will be glued to the last day (Terrier Day) and evening of Crufts.

It was 1988 the last time a Westie won Best in Show, with Derek Tattersall's "Olac Moonpilot". The only Olac in this family is in Haggis, and it's a good 4 generations ago. He's mainly "Famecheck". Megan is a good bit "Sarmac". Me, I'm not even registered because neither of my parents were.

Enjoy Crufts - see you tomorrow


Saturday 8 March 2008

Ellie and Eric Clapton

One more nice pic of Ellie from that run around on the Rec a yesterday. Very smart she looks too.

Today's walk was another round the boat yard and back through town. Although Dad had already asked the dog-tag man in town to produce mine to replace the ones I lost (I don't know how - a girl has to race through bramble patches occasionally in pursuit of bunnies, and these things are not designed to be body-hugging and thorn proof.....) Dad wanted to retrace our steps of yesterday just in case it was lying there in the grass.

No such luck, so now I am resplendent in shiny new ones hanging from my collar

Us walked, Dad vanishes up to the allotments to get on with some digging and then, later, Mum vanishes shopping with Diamond. But when Dad comes back, we can all collapse across the sofa. This move, which used to be called, jokingly in our house, an "old git's lie down", is now called an "Eric Clapton". This because Dad got Eric's autobiography for Christmas and, although the first 7/8 of it were, as you'd expect, testament to gigs played, drink and drugs taken, financial excess and so on, by the end Eric is sober 20 years, happily remarried with 2 young daughters, and can't wait to get back from gig-tours for a lie down on his comfy sofa at home for an afternoon nap. Rock and Roll!

Go Eric - you've always been a hero of Dad's, and now your name gets used fondly around the house anew


Friday 7 March 2008

Everything's Relative

A day for mixing it with the rels, if only via our sense of smell. Dad was working today, but First-Dad not. However, FD had come into work in the car to do a small job, and still had my Real-Mum, Real-Dad and Bro in the car (Mollie, Hector and Archie), so Dad came home smelling very much of them, where he'd made a fuss of them all through the car window.
Do you mind if we now dispense with all this "first Dad" stuff? From now on I will call First Dad "Steve" and First-Mum "Jean", for no better reason than those are their names (!).
But then on our good walk round the boat yard and back through town, we came upon my Sister Ellie, out with her Mum ('Trish'). Dad had his camera as we'd been out to photo the sailing barge Cambria, so here are some pics of Ellie to enjoy.
Ellie is easy to identify in all these as she is bright white (always!) and long haired, still not having had a Spring cut. She also has a rather smart be-jewelled red collar, but I don'r think my Parisian Emelio Pucci one is that far short, do you?
Pic 1) Me, grubby, tail up, left, Ellie Right
Pic 2) Ellie alone, sniffing ground
Pic 3) Meggie left, Ellie centre, Trish's leg right..... least, that's how I think they'll appear.
Have a great weekend

Thursday 6 March 2008

Sol from Porthcawl

A Welsh connection tonight. the Rec is choca-bloc full tonight with dog walkers - it's like Crufts out there. Definite "new kid" though a very smart, clean, groomed young boy westie called Sol. Originally from Carmarthen, but now living in Porthcawl.....

...he was up with his humans visiting their family here-abouts, and always use the Rec, apparently, to let the dog let off steam before they descend on the relatives. Sol was delighted to meet we three.

But the "choca-bloc" thing - oh we met EVERYONE.....

Ruby the shaggy, tiny black terrier - only 4 months old and full of beans.
Bindy - young Jack Russell who's a regular and we've had many a post about her. She and I have a great run-around, but occasionally a shout at each other when the ol' "green eye" cuts in.
Patch - JR of more autumnal years, rather stout and given to a waddling gait.
Bailey - gorgeous shiny Red Setter who bounces around avoiding Bindy
Hogan - another new one - lovely brown German Short-Haired Pointer who made Megan, normally the stand-offish 'Dowager Duchess', turn into a skittish, bouncy, coquette - all sniffing of undercarriages and batting of eye-lashes - Floozy!
Bugsy - rather yappy Bichon
plus many more dogs we didn't get to know more thoroughly, uincluding a very fast greyhound who dashed through our "mob" at one stage with a rush of wind but didn't stop to introduce himself to anyone, and was gone again in a blur of brindled coat.

And on top of that, Crufts tonight too! My cup runneth over!

Wednesday 5 March 2008

Spoilt for Choice....

A girl should, I suppose, always keep her options open. Hot on the heels of my Leap Year Day proposal of wedlock from Asbo (Rags), I get an email from the direction of Mrs Silverwood in the Irish Midlands. Chance and Sam are also marking my card. They do, though, say keep it quiet from the new pup, Samoyed x Labrador, "Dancer" of whom (hint hint Silverwoods) I do not yet have a picture.

If a Labradoodle is a lab x poodle, then what is a lab x samoyed? Laboyed? Sambrador?

Must rush - I have to hold Mum and Dad's hands in case they get scared watching Torchwood!


Tuesday 4 March 2008

She's Back!

OK, I can hear you asking, why am I looking at a picture of some blurry Iris foetidissima in fruit and some ground? Look more closely - almost central in the frame, just to the right of the Iris is the shoulders and back of head of our female sparrowhawk, leaning down to pluck a freshly killed sparrow.

Mum worked from home today, and about the same time as Dad was texting to say he was on the way, Mum had strolled down to the kitchen to make coffee, and was gazing out of the kitchen window waiting while the kettle boiled. Suddenly she noticed that the brown bird on the ground just down the steps from the bird-feeder was our old friend!

She raced back up stairs, scattering amazed dogs in all directions, and scrabbled in the case for Dad's good camera, feverishly slapping the 300mm lens on the front, then grabbing a chair and dragging it onto the bathroom, the better to get a photo-angle vantage point. She sqeezed off 4 shots before she was busted by the hawk, who shot off nervously, like they do, taking what remained of the prey with her. She left behind, for Dad to find, just the sad spread of feathers. Sometimes they leave you an upper mandible and a bit of forehead-bone too, but not always.

Mum and Dad are thrilled to know that she is still with us, despite all the building works going on behind us and Bruce's merry men in their Hi-Vis jackets. Mum and Dad are mad keen wildlife gardeners, feeding the local birds all year round with a good variety of food - they have been for years - so as a result we have a very healthy population of songbirds around the garden, and the sparrowhawk gets a very good serving off this pub-grub on a regular basis.


Monday 3 March 2008

Sign here

We surprised Mum by getting her a treat on Mothers' Day and by all signing it, as per the picture. Dad had us all queue up by the terrace table so he could "finger print" us one by one with a rubber-stamp pad. Now I guess, if we are bad, he will be able to identify the culprit.

Why the terrace table? Oh, we learned the hard way not to fingerprint an animal and then immediately give them free run of the laminated floors, while the ink was still wet on their paws! That year, Mum nearly got the wrong kind of surprise!


Sunday 2 March 2008

Charlie and Jake

Met 2 superb dogs in the Rec this morning, being walked by an old guy who stopped and talked to us all. Based broadly on Jack Russells, these 2 chaps were covered with wisps of long silky hair, like haloes around them. You saw the Jack Russell "skew-balled" colours through this haze as if through a fog, so they looked like JR's in pastel shades.

One was as big as a springer, so Heaven knows what he was a cross with, the other was just short and stout, and given that he (Jake) was 14, very nippy and agile. We had a good run-around with them.

Also went round to Diamonds so the humans could all eat together and therefore met my "fiancee" Ragworth. Naturally we took to squabbling and arguing "like a proper married couple" but at least now I can hold my own, and give him some back, unlike when I was tiny and he used to over-awe me and reduce me to drama queen sqealing mode.


Saturday 1 March 2008


Ahhhh .... sigh

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Will You Marry Me?": Ragworth says YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Does that mean I'm engaged, or do I still have to ask Mum and Dad if it's alright?

A Westerly gale blasts through this in the early hours of morning bringing some almost-horizontal rain and , scarily, banging the side gate open where it wedged in the fence. We could have run out into the road (admittedly not very busy early on a Saturday morning), but we are sensible dogs, and know that we cannot go out there without leads on, so we stand in a line at the threshold, waiting to be hooked up. Dad is amazed and delighted.....

The wind is still there at walk time and we go for a very windswept one round the boatyard and back through town. The wind is screaming in the rigging of the moored and landed boats and bits of tree are blowing about on the ground. Our game of "thrown away plastic bottle" on the Rec on the way back is extra lively as Dad lobs it with the wind, and the bottle sails away ten times the normal distance. I have to chase after it, nail it, and then scamper back up-wind to Dad.

Off to Hastings today, and the Pud-Lady. Have a great weekend

I love you, my fiancee, Rag-bag