Not Covering Yourself in Glory

Sometimes a dog seems to need to go into self-destruct mode and get everything wrong. Pancake Day and we are having, as every year, Diamond and John round for pancakes, accompanied by Ragworth. Ragworth is, as ever perfectly friendly and not at all a dangerous or antisocial dog. He looks for all the world, perplexed that Haggis and (especially) I, do not love him as we should.

He trit-trots around restlessly and I seek high ground (lap or chair) from which I crane my nexk this way and that trying to keep him in sight, curling my lip as he passes close, growling if he gets even closer and shouting "RAFFF!" at him if he pushes his luck. With all this going on the humans find it hard to relax into the pancake making and eating, so when Dad jumps up to go to 2CV club in The Haywain, the other side of Canterbury, Mum suggests they take me. 2CV Llew always takes JR "Rosie" (Beer and tea-drinking dog) and 'Enthusiastic' Pete always brings brindled greyhound 'Janie' so the pub is well used to dogs. I should fit in well (it says here).

I like Rosie, so no problems all piled into the car. Arriving at the pub Rosie and I trot in on our leads and Dad and Llew step the 2 paces over the threshold to the bar and then hovver to order drinks before heading deeper into the pub to sit. After a few minutes there is a bit of commotion at the bar as 'someone' has done a poo on the wooden floor. Llew volunteers that it might be Rosie but Dad has other suspicions. Worse, a lady customer has stepped in it. There is much muttering and comment although no-one says anything direct to Llew and Dad (the only dog-owners in the pub!)

Soon enough Pete and Josie turn up with Janie with whom I normally have no issues. However, it seems I still have one on me about Rags, so I growl and create about Janie's approach and that sets Rosie off too. Soon all dogs are being held by the muzzle and told to calm down. Peace returns and Llew and Dad notice that all the tables in 'our' immediate vicinity have been vacated - everyone has relocated, even mid meal, to other parts of the pub.

Dad suggests we quietly slink out with our tails between our legs but Llew jokes that we should do no such thing. He has a 'blaze of glory' more in mind but this is a family blog so I cannot tell you what he suggested.

Then, to just about put a tin hat on it, we are back home in bed with Dad and we dogs having collapsed of exhaustion at 10 pm, so I decide to do a big pee on Mum's side of the bed. She is too tired to be angry, thankfully, and retreats to the spare room for the quietest, most delicious sleep, she says, of recent years!

It was not a good day to be a female westie.

May take some time to live it down

Meanwhile, if anyone had picked up on the lost local dog (Springer LB) who was AWOL for 48 hours he has now been found, 5 miles away in Graveley village and re-united, covered in burrs, mud and plant material, with very relieved owners Paul and Michelle

Deefs

Betty Skoggs

Tuesday night we are abandoned by Dad (admittedly after a goodly walk round the boatyard) who is off to 2CV Club at the Haywain in Bramling. He will return smelling of Rosie the beer drinking dog and the marvellously named Cornish ale, Betty Stog. Our Betty is a buxom wench according to her picture on the beer tap, all be it drawn in that crude 'crayons' stylee that kiddies use, her face round with a curved-upwards smile and her hair sticking out in all directions in coiled ringlets like bed springs.

Dad's driving, so he only gets a taste of 2CV Llew's pint (yeah, lightweight allegedly sticks to alcohol free Becks) but the rest of the evening is given to crude barracking between the club members, especially 'Enthusiastic Pete' who is actually Cornish, along the lines of whether he knew her in his youth; and a raft of made up stories of her exploits.

Deserted again last night too, as Dad is off again to do "Hon Treasurer" at the Hort Soc speaker's night. Remember that scene in 'Calendar Girls' where they are talking about a talk on propogating broccoli? Well this was almost as gripping as that, apparently, the 'speaker' being 2 guys who put together a slide show using a double barrelled projector with a fade between each slide alternating the lenses, and accompanied by gently plinking pastoral music in the 'Greensleeves' and 'English Country Garden' stylee. Zzzzzzzzz, says Dad, Where's that Stog woman when you need her?

Deefs