Lookin' good Gigot

Remember "Gigot"? Poor unfortunate rescue Bedlington who joined choc-labrador "Truffles" and long-haired chihuahua "Storm", in a family we meet regularly walking round the Rec. Poor chap was in a real mess back then, neglected to starving point, dirty, matted, encrusted in who knows what, and very very nervous (abused?), rescued by the RSPCA in Police presence.

You should see the old boy now! Just groomed yesterday, he's a picture of health and condition and is now even starting to romp around with we three, and raced around in silly circles playfully running up to Dad to say Hello, racing away again and bouncing at me. Dad commented to his Mum and Dad that he just looks better and better every time. They agreed - they reckon they see improvements every day, especially now in his social skills and play.

He is a dog to be proud of and a credit to them.

Dad noticed a small container fixed to the lab's collar, and asked about it (secretly worried that it might be one of those electric zappers people use for training). It was, in fact a similar idea, but the little hand held device triggers a release on the collar. The collar box contains a pressurised water cannister, and the release makes a short hissing squirt of water spray.

Truffles is, apparently, an inveterate scavenger, always hunting out discarded food and rubbish, and has it wolfed down before they can stop him, so she was putting on a good deal of weight. Now, when she goes to grab any scavenge, they "Pshhhh!" the sprayer and Truffles is all distracted and misses the food.

Mum and Dad were off for an afternoon's sailing on the sailing barge Greta tomorrow, but a gale is blowing, and Skipper/owner Steve, does not think they'll be going out. Dad is therefore making out like he's a salty sea dog, his life ruled by winds, tides and weather, blown hither and yon by the elements. Daft ha'porth!

Deefski

Between the Hail storms

What a day! Dad's been trying to finish his digging and put the rotovator across the allotments and has been dodging between the hail storms by hiding in a nearby plot holder's shed. The goons apparently run for cover and then spend the next 10 minutes waving and grinning and exchanging banter from inside their various open shed doors.

We get our walk when a particularly big blue patch of sky comes over the horizon, and we decide to "risk it for a biscuit", the Rec, the Parish Church and back down through the boat yard, where we are surprised to see S.B.Greta still moored up. Steve is on deck and Alfie is barking at us from the starboard bulwarks. He didn't want to risk the sail he says, on that dodgy weather yesterday evening, so he sat tight and they'll head for Whitstable Monday or Tuesday.

We meet Molly the beagle on the way home. As I race in circles and Molly shows every sign of wanting to join me, Dad suggetsts she is let off the lead and is amazed to find that the lady has "not yet plucked up courage" to let her off because some helpful soul has said "Oooh - Beagles - they have a reputation for taking off and never being seen again". We've not heard of that at all and don't beleive it but the idea is fixated in the lady's head and the dog is now stuck on the lead. We suggest some places and situations where it could be low risk (out in a "pack" with us, and along the levee where the opportunities to scoot are limited. We'll see

Treat tonight. Mum's cooking duck in Guinness for a posh dinner party, so we get the cooked giblets.

That's the life!

Deefs

Jolly bargin' weather

Brilliant walk tonight. At the weekend, Dad had been down at his labours on sailing barge S.B. Cambria, and in idle moments they had been enjoying the sight of the crew of S.B. Repertor hauling their barge out of the sunken dry-dock. She'd been having her bottom cleaned and anti-fouled, but was now spick and span. These dry docks are converted Thames Lighters, so when they want to release the barge they simply open the cocks as the tide comes in. The dock sinks (or rather stays sitting on the mud) and the barge floats off. They then used one of her own winches to haul her out backwards.

The pic was improved by the falling snow swirling around. Dad decided to print it and give the boys a copy, so tonight we were on a mission to find Repertor and either hail the skipper, or nip on board to plant the (laminated) pic in a suitable position. That also meant we were at the boat yard as our own favourite barge (the one Meg and H have actually sailed on), S.B.Greta was being readied for a sail round to her Summer quarters, the fishing harbour at Whitstable. All her winter maintenance has been completed under her poly tunnel cocoon, so now she's back open to the elements and rigged up for sailing.

Ahhh barges.... Dad's in Heaven. Tonight, it being his birthday weekend he is being taken out for a meal, so we get a consolatory "tripe stick". These dried up leathery chunks of (presumably) gut are black and rough-surfaced, and the humans find them rather gross, but we dogs love 'em and chew and grind and slurp them out of existence. Then we come back for more.

Have a great weekend

Deefer

2008 !

What will the New Year bring. Other than the predicted mass launchings of fireworks, that is. The whole town seemed to be exploding, and there were some big, heavy (expensive) fireworks amongst it, too. We found a fair number of casings on the morning walk.

The walk is great - everybody seems to be out and about, even though some of the humans look a bit jaded. We met the people up the road with Westie Jock (always immaculate and frequently entered in dog photo competitions) and the Cav "Twiggie". We met another westie we'd not seem before, name of Lewie, about Haggis's size but I guess about 4 years old. We met pointers and alsatians, springers and patterdales... everybody!

We walked past Cambria and wished her New Year, and we walked on past Greta and said Hi and Happy New Year to skipper Steve (but barge-dog Alfie was below decks sleeping off his own walk).

Now we're back home, resting (or in Meggie and Mum's case, watching girlie movie "Polly-Anna" from the sofa) . Dad's reading a book he got for Christmas. All is quiet and warm - very mild, although the forecast is for freezing cold weather and snow.

Happy New Year
Deefer

Oh Ellie!

The grapevine has it that my Sis, Ellie is in "twouble" again. Her Mum has grassed her up to Uncle Jim, found guilty of chewing up her glasses. Ellie's Mum says she has 2 pairs - her "spare" pair and her "best" pair. We'll leave you all to guess which pair Ellie has written off......

Dad has a Team Lunch today and skanks off work a bit early, so is home to walk us round the boat yards loop in daylight. We pass the project Sailing Barge "Cambria" in her dry-dock "lighter" and see the guys just finishing off assembling her "polytunnel" of bright white lorry tarpaulins. Dad hails one of the shipwright guys. "She'll start to dry out now", he says, "So we can start doing some proper work on her.

We also pass the barge Greta, as sailed on by Mum and Dad (twice now) under her own transparent plastic polytunnel. We say Hello to skipper Steve and barge-dog Alfie

Meanwhile at home, all is oprepping up for Christmas. Ever more cards are amassing on mantle shelf and window sills, and present wrapping has commenced. There is some stuff being kept out of sight of dogs, which is promising.

Deefs

Sea Dog Alfie

This is Alfie - seasoned sailor sea-dog on board Sailing barge Greta. He gets on really well with the three of us when we meet on the quayside, and said a nice "Hello" to Mum and Dad when they came on board yesterday. The kennel is a new feature on deck, and has now been adopted by Alfie after a long time of ignoring it. Steve-the-Skipper says that the No Smoking sign is because it is Alfie's "place of work", as per the new regs

Poor Meggie, meanwhile, has gone lame, with a pink inflamed middle toe on her front left foot - probably a grass-dart type injury. She is let off the walk today and booked in at the vets. With the "old girl" out of the picture, Haggis and I get treated to a good fast long walk in the forest - lovely and quiet - we didn't see another soul

Poor Meggie gets taken to the vets, where she is given a thorough check up ("For an 11 year old dog with Cushings", he says "She is brilliant"). But there is still the thorny problem of the grass dart / puncture wound. She gets muzzled, grabbed at one end by Dad and wrangled by a blonde Finnish vet nurse at the other (Didn't hear Dad complaining about that one!), while da Boss does his work with local anaesthetic and a lancet. Ouch. Poor old Meggie. Now she's on antibiotics and salty foot baths.

Have a good 'un

Deefs

Happy Birthday Haggis (10) and Dad

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday Dear Haggis

Happy Birthday to you!!

Yes, the "H" is 10 today. Our "birthday cake" is a couple of big meaty raw pork ribs each. Megan and the H set to, to chew theirs to destruction on the terrace. Being a dog of very little brain, I race down the garden with my first one to bury it in secret (In the chicken run under the James Grieves, but don't tell any one!), racing back to be ready in case there is a 2nd one on offer.

I sit and wait while Meg and H eat theirs, looking on longingly, with my stomach rumbling. You'd think I'd learn. the 2nd ones only get given out when M+H have finished their first ones, and again M+H eat them on the terrace while I race off to the chicken run. I am sure Meg will not find mine there. Are you?

Net result is that I've had no pork yet, and have watched, drooling, while M+H have slurped and cruched through 2 bones. Am I doing this right? Dogs bury bones, surely? It's what they do.....

Meanwhile, Dad finally gets to enjoy his 50th birthday present from Mum, a day's sailing on the lovely old Sailing Barge, "Greta". More of this later. M+H were allowed on last year, so they've done the trip all round the wind farm in the Swale and the Redsands WW2 forts. But there is this scurrilous suggestion that I would be over the side in 10 minutes, and every 10 minutes there after, so we all got to stay at home this time. More later, but for now feel free to click on www.thamesbarges.co.uk which will give you some idea

Cheers

Deefer

Alfie - Ship's Dog

We have often mentionned Sailing Barges in this diary, and specifically the ones maintained at the Iron Wharf in town, on our creek. Dad's favourite is almost certainly one called "Greta" on which they (before I was born) went sailing last year. Skipper Steve, invited Mum and Dad to bring Megan and Haggis, because they get on so well with Barge-Dog Alfie. We meet Alfie often, when we walk through (as tonight, in fact), so I thought you'd like a shot of Alfie, on board, on his special bed on the main hatchway, with his life belt. Excellent dog!

Deefer