Curly ends

Tonight the boot is on the other foot and it's me that's 'in the poo'. Dad is glued at present to the TV series "Spring Watch" and that means we are too, as we get a chance to curl up on the sofa 'en famille'. Last night we learned that fox poo can be identified by the fact that it has long tapered curly ends.

Tonight I learned that if you roll in it at the roadside you end up being double-hit shampoo'd in the shower before supper while Boris looks on all smug, amused and superior. No matter, we all got a chunk of the roast lamb bone, Dad hack-sawing the long shank bit in half to make 3 bits for three dogs.

Sorry about the photo, if it is showing as on its side. I have tried over and over to flip it round and it looks OK on the computer but then displays on here at 90 degrees. I will come in again and try to edit it tomorrow unless it sorts itslef out.

Deefs

Slum-dog

You know that scene early in Slumdog Millionaire where our hero jumps into the farting swamp of bubbling poo?

We were being walked through the allotments this morning and Dad stopped to chat to a couple of blokes. Seemed like a good opportunity to me to nip off and find a particularly rancid smear of fox poo in which to roll my chest (both sides), collar and rump (both sides).

Dad says he can remember clearly being bathed as a small boy in the kitchen sink, sitting on the draining board. You had to watch your back because behind you was the "Geyser" hot water generator thingy.

Meanwhile, all hail to the weather. It's hailing.

How we laughed.

Deefer

Singing Dogs

You must know it - it's been played on the radio every Christmas since about 1971. I can't find a link to the original on Google, although there are a million and one imitations or you-tube videos of peoples' dogs leppin around with the song playing in the background to wind them up.

It's that sampler-style version of Jingle Bells with all the dog yaps and woofs representing the notes of all the different pitches - Yip yip yap, yip yip yap, yip yip yap yap woof ! etc. Drives us all barmy, so we have to race out into the garden to find out where all these dogs have suddenly come from, even though Mum and Dad are insisting we "Chill! It's on the radio!"

Nice long walk in the afternoon today for Haggis and I, where I find some superbly sticky fox poo to roll around in. There is a party tonight - Mum entertaining her team, and for some reason I was not, with my fox poo adornments, felt suitably attired to meet the guests in their posh frocks. I have therefore been showered and am now the whitest, cleanest, fluffiest westie in the world.

Meanwhile preparations continue. Trees for us and Diamond have been bought and brought home today, although, what with the party needing all the space, our tree is still in its net tube out on the terrace table till tomorrow.

Deefer

Even older than Megan

I have no idea what order these 4 pics will come out on the blog - have to "publish" and then go back in and edit if I've said anything that doesn't fit with the pics!

Anyway, dad has day off work today so, other that when he is, yet again, trying to capture a good deer photo in Challock Forest, we have his undivided attention. We get a lovely walk round the fields and the boatyard. Housed there now is the old Sailing barge "Cambria" - poor old girl is in rather grim condition. More on her soon, but suffice to say now she was the last barge still in trade round these parts, eventually being pensionned off in the 60's, and is now in dry-dock at our boatyard pending (we hope) restoration. She's even older than Megan!

Out on that walk, I managed to find some ripe fox poo to roll in. The pic with my head in the shade shows well the amount I managed to get on my rump and right shoulder. Megan was looking on with murder in her heart, remebering, as she did, the mention of shampoo and "minging" at the weekend, and thinking we'd got away with it.

Well, my attempt to improve the doggie fragrance put the tin hat on that, and Dad wrangled us all through the shower, one after the other. Hence my pic of me looking all white and fluffy, completely devoid of fox poo (and street-cred!). The final pic, of all three of us, is just the three of us basking in the warm october sunshine at the back door, all damp from the shower. Megan is at front (out on the step), I'm centre and Haggis is at the back.

Deefer - West Highland WHITE terrier!! :-))

For more info in Cambria, try http://www.thamesbarge.org.uk/barges/charter/cambriadetails.html#done

Sump Oil and Fox Poo

"What are you guys doing home?" I hear you ask. "Left the Building" wasn't it? Ah well. Let's just say that within minutes of arriving at the camping field (which had been up till the day before had been grazing for horses) I had found some horse poo to roll in. 15-love. Not too noxious. Then within an hour we'd found the long-grass next door, and in it some seriously sticky wet fox poo. Ahhhhh all up me back. 30-love. And now the fellow campers are starting to make comments like "Very sweet dog, son, but it don't half whiff!"

Totally hot day, so I then took shelter under an ancient Citroen Ami 6, little knowing (or caring) that it had a leaky sump, so I came out with gobs of black sump oil on my back. Advantage Deefer. Now nobody will let me near their tent, or even their scuzzy camping jeans.

I asked Meggie why she's not joining me in the farmyard frolic. Lady Megan puts on her hoity toity voice and says "My Dear.... One does not stroll through the perfume store trying on all these samplers willy-nilly (do we Diamond?). One ends up smelling like a tart's boudoir" One of the campers actually said "Turkish wrestlers armpit" which sounds even more exotic. Megan goes on... "One is selctive, and chooses just the right scent for the occasion. I found Fox 2005 to be a very good year". I prefer ASBO 2007. Reminds me of that jollop the Sailing Barge boys use to protect their sails. Was probably even better when it had horse-pee in it.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I am driven home this morning (45:15), dumped in the sink (45:30), shampoo'd to within an inch of my life (Deuce), towelled down (Advantage Dad), and presented back to the camp white and fluffy (Game to Dad). This is considered cheating by the camping afficionadoes - you're meant to tough it out, skanky dogs in the tent an' all

As for horses. Aren't they a gas! Like big shuffly, snorting dogs. Great to race up and down the next field to and shout at (till you get recalled and told to shut up). Other fun featues of this farm. Chooks in a big fox proof run (great to run up and down the next ...etc). The farm's cavalier spaniels (Great to race up and ...etc). An old scuzzy sheeps fleece chucked onto a compost heap.

Westie Bliss

Right. Never mind Game to Dad. Now to plan my revenge. White fluffy pup plus farm.... What say you?

Deefs