I heard a Rumour

Heavy rain precludes any walks tonight but we have it on good authority that Dad has tomorrow off work and may take us for a Bluebell Walk in Challock Forest. No Friends of Kingswood "members of the public" to shepherd about this time, so he can give us his undivided and we will therefore be going with Meggie (I'm almost 12 you know), and I guess a camera. Let's pray for sunshine!

Meanwhile, Dad's chum from work, Shirley, is all excited to be moving house soon but when she describes it you'd think that the new house is just an accessory to the fact that once she's in there and set up she can get the NEW PUPPY! She was the owner of the westie Penny mentioned in earlier posts, and is now looking to get back into pup-ownership. Dad keeps threatening to descend upon her with we three (the old house, not the new!) dogs but she is beating us off with a sharp stick at the monent saying "Mmmmm.... maybe we'll come to you???"

Scared-y cat!

Deefer

Fabergé Egg

Ooops. After my conviction for the hair dryer job, was trying to keep a low profile. Duck a bit, dive a bit, be a little bit who-aooo. It all went terribly wrong tonight and I was back on the naughty step.

Many moons ago, Dad had seen something about a Fabergé egg (coo, look at me with my e-acute! No sweat - just hold down the Alt key and while you're still holding it, type 130, then let it all go) being given to some highbrow lady as a gift. Next time he was in the farm shop he bought a huge goose egg, "blew" it (as in a hole in either end and blow on one end to force the white and yolk out the other. Use for delicious omelettes) and decorated it with multi coloured felt pens. He then presented it to Mum with much ceremony (I'm told the reply was "You ******* eejit!").

Since then it has been rattled around in the stationery basket, along with the highlighters and staplers, but has survived many years, and has (um.... "had") become known as the Fabergé egg. A family heirloom. Part of the family jewels, yet. Priceless. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever...

Till tonight

It wasn't my fault - Mississippi the cat tossed it down to me. What was I to do. I am a toothing puppy. I chew. It's what I do. It's amazing how many acres of hall carpet you can cover with one goose egg shell !

I am forgiven now though, and am chewing on a more appropriate ox-tail bone out of tonight's stew

Grind grind... slurp slurp, gnaw gnaw

Had any pancakes yet, Old-Dad? :-))

Deefer

...has those teeth, Dear, and he keeps them..

...Pearly White.

In the first picture, fallow deer prints - a common sight in Challock Forest, and it's when you see a good few fresh ones on a path we all slow down and go very quiet, because as sure as eggs is eggs, there will be a small herd of the deer in the immediate vicinity. In this pic you can see the hind foot has slotted in practically on top of the fore-foot print. We are even told that if you know what you are doing you can easily tell the sex of the deer in question. The women are (ahem) slightly pear-shaped ( you just know this is gonna be a MAN tracker don't you!), so that the track of the hind feet is slightly wider than the track of the front feet, more so when the doe is pregnant. But we'll leave that to the experts.

My second photo is a macro-shot of my shiny new fangs. Scary, aren't they? In case you don't know what you're looking at, the long tooth in the right hand side of the shot is my upper left puppy milk-tooth (canine). Just to the left of this is the grown-up canine just coming through. Middle tooth showing is the lower left canine pointing upwards away from the camera, and the other two are grown-up upper left incisors. Won't be long before I lose the pup-fangs, I guess. We were cunningly designed to never be completely toothless.

Had a great weekend - more Forest today, nice and early but didn't see any deer.

Look after yourselves

Deefer

Allotment Widow, Goodbye Sam

Dad is really really happy today. The weather has been dry a week now and it is all warm and mild, so he's finally been able to head up to the alloment with his trusty spade. We got left behind and walked later, but I understand from M+H that we do get to spend quite a lot of the summer mooching about up there. Much nuzzling and rootling in the compost heaps, says Meggie, for mice, rats and hedgehogs (If you're lucky!)

But Dad didn't want me up there because of my current yen to "help" dig the holes. He is well behind, he says, on his digging, because it's basically rained solidly since November (well, OK, slight exaggeration, but he's not been able to get the Autumn digging done because the soil is too wet, and every time it's not he's held up on something else.). "We" still have spuds in the ground and quite a few plots still have the old trash and weeds left on them from the last year crop

But now he's happy. He can get up there and start turning areas over and making it all look tidy, sweet and productive again

Then (and only then) did we all get a lovely walk round through the boat yard and back in through town. So many people.

Sadly we learned today that old collie Sam, Meg's forst ever boyfriend and whom she used to play with on the Rec when she was a pup, had to be put down recently. We had wondered - we'd seen him in the vet's looking very old and grey around the muzzle, and not seen him at all in the Rec. Now the windowsill overlooking the road, where he used to lie and look out, and Meggie couldn't pass the house without looking up at the window to see if her friend was there (be still, my beating heart), sports a very smart big pot plant.

So we had wondered, and today in town we met Sam's "Mum" and she told us, and made a big fuss of Meggie. Meggie was sniffing all around wondering where the Sam smells had gone. Sam apparently had a huge stroke and was beyond cure. Poor Sam (Poor family too) - Bless Him. We'll all miss him and Meggie will probably wonder where he is for the rest of her natural.

Have a greta weekend
Deefer

Ellie-Bezel

I am one seriously grubby puppy! Have just had the time of my life romping around on the Rec' with my sister Ellie (that's her real name - but she was Beryl-the-Barrel when she was a pup, due to her (um...) plumpness, and has since been Ellie-the-Belly, but get's nicknamed Ellie Bezel, as a sort of half-way house. Anyway - last time we met we were all younger and I'd played (rough) with Haggis, so I kinda overwhelmed poor Ellie.

Now things are different. We're still the same size, but now we're equal in energy, playfulness and confidence. Ellie gets let off the lead, too, which means the that the lead-trailing circles we run in don't end up garrotting Megan or bolas-ing the humans. We ran and ran and ran - round trees, in and out of the kiddies play-furniture and their bike assault course, under hedges and nosing through the tennis court gate

I say the same size - I guess we're the same weight, but what with me having an inch and a half of fluffy scrag all around me, and Ellie being smoothe coated and slightly whispy, her legs and tail end up looking longer and her ears taller. I guess we'd look the same if we were sopping wet!

She, though, has now got all her new front teeth and lost 3 canines. I have 4 new front, but I've still got all my needle-sharp baby-fangs (All the better for grabbing you with, Haggis!)

Ah but one thing about Ellie. She hates being groomed but is a self-cleaning dog. Apparently, an hour in her own bed, all the mud's dried and fallen off her. Um... can't say that works for me. Still she'll need it. The Angel-Betty's hubby, calls her the Daz-Dog and swears her Mum puts her in the washing machine; she's always so pristine dazzling white. Not now! A hour of running around with me on the soggy Rec and she's got that "proper-dog", soiled grubby West Highland Brown look!

Go Ellie!

Deefs

Back Seat Driver

Ooops - got scolded for this little stunt. Lots of stuff about maybe getting me a harness - free floating ballistic westies in the back of your head, even at 2CV speeds. Gotta give you a crick! I was only up there a couple of seconds, honest. Something about "You might be only a pup, but you're blocking my entire rear view!"

Hasn't it turned cold! Frost on the cars in the morning and frost bite of the fingers for humans who walk us with no gloves on, - hands out of pockets when we are on the leads. Nice walk though in the clear bright evening - up across the Rec, down through town and past the Sailing Barges (old "Greta", who Meg and H went sailing on last year, all de-rigged and parcelled up in her polytunnel, sitting in a dry dock for her winter maintenance), and back across the fields. Perishing cold! We are glad Dad has left us all shaggy for the moment, and not listened too hard to the talk of Global warming and an early Spring. Snowdrops might be out under the James Grieves, but it sure looks like snow to me!

Keep warm

Deefer

Challock Forest (at last)

We got there at last! Dog Heaven. Challock Forest - about 5 square kms of English broad leaved forest. Historically a Royal deer-hunting forest and now owned by the Forestry Commission, it's mainly down to sweet chestnut coppice, although there are big tracts too of beech, larch, corsican pine and other stuff. There are ggod hard tracks all around and narrower muddier footpaths too. There are squirrels, pheasants and we reckon about 200 very dark-phase fallow deer.

Dad had the day off and, amazingkly after the gales and rain last night, the morning was sunny, warm and almost windless, certainly windless under the trees anyway. So we dropped Mum off at work (Poor Mum!) and headed for Challock. You can see from the pics , it was very sloppy underfoot, so we rapidly became "West Highland Black-Bellied Terriers", with our little majorette boots of shiny black. We are all let straight off the lead in Challock, so we can race about like lunatics.

We even saw some of the fallow deer - a small group of does, and led by Meggie, we tried to give chase, but deer are fast and long legged, and built for spronging through knee high brambles and bracken. Westies (especially pups) are only 4 inches long in the leg dept and built more for your mown lawns and shagpile carpet, so "gave chase" is a rather humorous optimistic description! Dad soon called us back

Fantastic place! We all love it, and it's Dad's absolute favourite dogwalk place. We'd reccommend it to anyone who lives in the Ashford / Sittingbourne / Charing area

Exhausted

Deefer

German Bight, Humber, Thames

GERMAN BIGHT HUMBER THAMES DOVER WIGHT WESTERLY BACKING SOUTHWESTERLY VIOLENT STORM 11 DECREASING 5 OR 6. ROUGH OR VERY ROUGH OCCASIONALLY HIGH. SQUALLY SHOWERS. MODERATE OR POOR BECOMING GOOD

Coo! There are whole big limbs of trees coming down on the Rec. Bigger than a pup can pee against. We went for a walk but we came back very "windswept and interesting". Dad has the day off tomorrow, so we are promised a walk, finally in "the forest" - Kings Wood in Challock, near Ashford, in Kent. 6 or so square miles of Chestnut coppice (well coppice up to 2006, but now the paper recycling has been so successful that the last remaining pulp mill taking chestnut (in Wales) has now shut, so Kingswood no longer has an outlet for it's chestnut, and the poor old coppicers have all been laid off. One man's green success story, is another man's unemployment)

More tomorrow, when I've been to this mythical wonderland. Dad promises to take the camera

Deefer

Blackcurrant Fields

The weekend! Up nice and early (that is, "we got Dad up nice and early") for a nice long walk - dry but breezy. We headed south across the Rec and through the grounds of Macknade Farm shop, ending up on what they've all called "the blackcurrant fields" till now. Megan had told me in excited tones about 300 yard row upon row of blackcurrant bushes, with eager rabbits dashing up between the rows and sneaking through gaps into the next row.

She and Haggis could lose themeselves for hours racing up one row, nipping through gaps and down another row, with Dad charging up and down the head-land, trying to guess which row they'd emerge from. Sometimes they'd get so disorientated they'd go to the wrong end of the field trying to find Dad (which was a bit anxious for him, as the "other end" was yards from the M2 motorway)

But no more. All the bushes have been grubbed up over winter, along with the apple trees in a neighbouring orchard, the whole lot (25 acres?) fenced in as one field and ploughed. Neat, tidy, boring. I guess it's the economics of fruit growing in Kent. A man at the allotments this afternoon said that most local growers had their fruit, which is grown under contract, rejected anyway by Ribena after the hot dry summer, as being not fit for purpose, so I don't suppose that helped the economics

I've spent the day "helping" Mum and Dad who have been going crazy working thier way through a list of jobs. I've "helped" pull up the hall carpet (some say I'm the reason it has been pulled up, but that's another story!), "helped" wash the floor, "helped" with the laundry, "helped" dig the bed in the greenhouse, "helped" laying out spuds for chitting, "helped" lay a fire - ahh I'm so helpful I wonder how they ever did without me!

Deefer

Cromarty, Forth, Tyne, Dogger

Cyclonic 7 to severe gale 8, occasionally Storm 10. It's sooooo windy! The rain is not so much "falling" as travelling horizontally and occasionally hitting the ground - more often hitting the sides of westies, who are ruffty tuffty Scottish dogs and can handle it. Unlike their Mum who is a wuss and tends to hide indoors. A couple of very recent photo's for you. Remember those earlier photo's of me beating up the H-man ? Look how big I am now! More like a 1/2 scale model of a westie, than a pup. The face-on pic gives you a little inkling of the Hercule Poirot moustache, but Mum had just brushed me so I'm not as scruffy as usual

Off to the vets yesterday, but just along for the ride, accompanying Meg and Haggis (and the c*t Mississippi) who were up for their annual jabs, in case they needed their hands holding. Spent the entire visit standing on the floor looking up at the succession of bro's and sis's being poked and prodded on the table, whimpering for when it would be my turn. Did get a turn on the weighing machine though, so can tell you I'm 4.08 kgs

Dad turned quite pale writing the cheque afterwards - as well as all the jabs, Meggie has something called Cushings, which means a pill a day for the rest of her life. (Dad got a bit stressed one morning, when he dropped that day;s pill and I grabbed it and ran off with it. Didn't need to scruff me quite so hard to get it back. I'm sure I would not have choked on it!). He says - God bless Pet-Plan

It's the weekend

Deefer

In the Doghouse for Cat-Based Crimes

Look at these two smug beggars! Felix on the left, Mississippi on the right. They are the cause of my current misfortune! Yes, the honeymoon period is over and I am in the doghouse again

I protest, Members of the Jury! It does not seem such a crime to chase Felix around and it really was great fun when he sprayed all over me and the .. um... main human bed. Not so much fun when I was discovered , but beautifully fragrant meantime.

Nor, indeed, to have a go at tidying up Mississippi's poo from the cat litter. I was only trying to be helpful, yer 'Onour, when I was seen scurrying down the hall with a great big hard "Richard the Third" in my mouth, heading for my bed

And that's another thing. I am, allegedly joint-owned by Mum and Dad, so why did Mum yell through to Dad "Your bl***y dog has git a lump of cat sh** in her mouth"

I hear on the grapevine that bro' Archie is recovering well from his leg injury and is back to all 4 cylinders. Also that, just like me, he loves to pester his Dad when same is sitting on the "throne" in the morning. Only unlike me, who tries to climb into the throne bowl - Archie's thing is apparently the bath. Dad has to lift him into the bath where he either attacks the dripping water, or curls up happily in the bottom of the bath and goes to sleep while his Dad concentrates. Also, allegedly LOVES being bathed - the water, the shower head, the splashing, the shampoo...... Are you SURE he's my brother?

Deefs

It's a cold night, Dear

Don't you just love that (probably apocryphal) story, that the Inuit (story probably dates from when they were called eskimoes!) judge the coldness of the night by how many dogs they need to add to the bed. It's a cold night, Dear... chuck another dog on the bed! Well it's so mild here at the moment that these must be zero dog nights, but we are still allowed to sneak on board. It's a big bed!

Mum was joking with Dad that she'd be surprised if I didn't grow up thinking my name was 'K'off Deefer. The amount of times she shoo's me away with a choice expletive or two, and Dad, who likes a nice quiet sit on the "throne" in the morning (where-as I just have to try to get on his lap, or look over the side of the throne bowl to see where all the fascinating splashy noises and gorgeous (to a dog) smells are coming from) knows exactly where she's coming from.

Ah well - 'tis the weekend and I am promised a lovely walk in somewhere new, called King's Wood, if it's not tipping down tomorrow. Might even get my first ride in the 2CV

Deefer

House Arrest

Brother Archie progress report.... The vet has allowed him home today without his restricting leg bandage, but he is reported to be under "house arrest", and only allowed out into the garden for a wee on the lead! Poor little divvil. Must be driving him crazy, and probably everyone else.

We managed to persuded Dad to take us out the minute he got home from work, while there was still some daylight, so we went on a good hour's worth of off-the-lead rabbit snuffling. From our house you can be in open fields in minutes, and there's a lovely walk along the creek bank, part of the Sustrans bike-ride route, before we turn back south (inland) across more fields and through dad's allotment site back to our road. It was a bit sticky underfoot, so we're a bit grubby, and I managed to collect some huge burr-dock burrs under my chin, but we made it. I'm sooooo tired now though, I can barely beat up Haggis

:-)) - whoosh!
Deefer

Lost down the back of the sofa

At home there's a superb long sofa, which I like to jump up onto the back of and then sleep between the back-cushion and the house-wall, basically stretched out along the hard back-plank of the sofa frame. Here is a pic of what happens when you try this at Silverwood's house, where the sofa has a big gap between the cushion and the back - no "plank". I was tired, so i was fast asleep, and the rotters got a pic of me disappearing out of sight as the evening went on. I think that's my ear at the top of the picture

Meanwhile, a progress report on Archie, who is still strapped up but now apparently feeling a lot better, so has now to be limitted on his desire to charge about on 3 good legs and a strapped-rigid one, still trying to fight his Dad (Hector). His human parents can't wait till he's let out again! Driving them crazy. other sister, Ellie is off to pup-classes tonight. Her Mum and Dad are worried that without a Hector/Mollie or Megan/Haggis to play with, she'll not get properly socialised. maybe she'd like a go with ASBO ?

Deefer

B-B-Blustery Day

Yoiks - what happened to the weather? Dad had to work this morning (but I'm told it's just a ploy to get out of having to work tomorrow morning!), but once he was home he loaded us all into the car and we headed for Reculver. What a great place that is for dogs! A quick grassy hill with an old church ruin on top, then miles and miles of sea wall and beach.

Dad decided I was ready for a longer walk now, so we did what he calls the inland-railway circuit. From the towers, head East, but before the oyster farm, head inland and follow the bank to the railway line. then east along the path parallel to the railway for half a mile or so, before cutting north up a hard track to the beach. back along the beach. Takes about an hour and a half allowing for Meggie's slightly more stately pace these days. The railway bit gives Haggis a chance to indulge his "racing alongside the train" stuff. Train usually wins on speed but H is magnificent, and sees it off with a finishing barking/bouncing session at the end of the sprint!

But what a wind! Howling across from the southwest (inland) and blowing out to sea, it had all us westies looking like we were wearing ruffs if we ran with the wind, and looking like jack russells if we faced into it! We met 2 dogs definitely dressed for it though - genuine Huskies, blue eyes an' all. Loping along with a guy on a push bike. Dad joked with the guy that he needed snow and a sledge, and the guy only turned out to be a keen husky racer, land sleds mainly (due to lack of snow), but hoping to try these 2 dogs out with a real sled weather permitting!

Happy New Year
Mum and Dad off out tonight but promised to return before all the fireworks kick off. We need to get out there and SHOUT at those beggars! The nerve! In OUR air-space, too!

Deefer

Tammy the Chow??

This is "that dog" - just an overgrown puppy really. Still young but lots bigger than me. Dad thinks she's a Chow, but is more than willing to be out-voted on this one. As you can see she towers over me and was so bouncy in the forest near Silverwood's house, that I was glad she was kept on the lead. Still - all the humans think it's only that she doesn't get enough exercise and given enough practise she'd be grand and calm. Mr-Em is quite taken with her. She's called Tammy, and I think he has visions of donning a black balaclava and smuggling her out under cover of darkness!

By the way - I should have said, the Guinea Pigs all survived but have not, to my knowledge, produced their babies (kittens? Guinea piglets?) yet

Ah well, from wet, rain swept, soggy. gale-blown Kent, chewing a bit of goose-neck (the hard life).......

Deefer

A long long way from there to here

Wow! Home again after the biggest adventure ever, and back on my own PC. We left the Steak Lady's place (in passable condition!) early Thursday morning for another millpond smooth Irish Sea crossing, coming off the ferry at Holyhead by midday. We are glad we slipped out when we did - the weather ever since has been gales and "severe weather warnings", and Mum does not go too much on the rough stuff.

The run home was OK - but plenty of broken down cars and lorries, roadworks and diversions round accidents, meant that we were not indoors till 7pm. I have added 3 more to the list of Motorway services I have peed in the carpark of and been walked round. Scent-marking the UK!

I was so delighted to be home I had to have a mad half hour racing round checking all my beds were still here, toys had not gone astray and cats needed bouncing at just in case they'd forgotten me. Evereyone is asking how did Deefer get on - and Mum and Dad have been singing my praises for being so well socialised and not having indoor accidents in other peoples' houses all the time we were abroad (maybe just one or two...). So, just to make sure no-one was getting compacent, I had a good one to make up for it in the Hall here.

News comes on the grapevine that brother Archie has broken the ligaments in his knee, so he is under the vet, x-rayed up and now suffering 2 weeks of being strapped up to stop him moving his leg, and crated to minimised his movement and exercise. Poor feller! I know from Dad that he loves a run-around and a scrap with Mollie and Hector, just the same as I do with Haggis and Megan. I shall have to take care not to end up in the same boat. Mind you they all say I'm such a screaming drama-queen, I'm shrieking "with pain" before the thing actually touches me! Maybe that'll protect me from real impacts! Get well soon, Arch'

Ah well, back at home now and getting back into the old routine. Growing all the time, and with it, a curious new power over the humans. A week ago, I couldn't leap off the bed, so I woke up, dying for a pee, but had to wake up Dad, who'd then lift me down stairs and lob me out the back door before I could do one. Now (heh heh!) I can leap off the bed and pee where I like, so Dad has to wake up really quick to stop me. Alpha-female, or what?

More soon
Deefer

Look what they DID to me!

Oh dear, Oh Dear. Look what they did to me! That Angel-Betty who is normally on my side! Doesn't she realise I have to face my gang on the Rec and beat them up occasionally. All my street cred will be gone! I can just hear that Ellie now, and Archie.... "They did WHAT to you?" I am meant to be a ruffty-tuffty Scottish Highland dog, out in all weathers, tirelessly pursuing vermin across the heather and bracken, fur full of burrs and wildlife, feet muddy from peat bogs, nose bloodied and eyes gimlet thin, the steely-eyed killer look.

Ah well - thanks for the photo's Angel-B. They are great!

Meanwhile, today finds us back in Portmarnock, at the Steak Lady's house, but the Steak Lady is away on hols, so the house, which is a B+B, is immaculate and quiet, with even the crackin' little Yorkie, Cracker, being dog-sat next door. I've been used to the Silverwood house, baby-M trying out his 1 year old vocals, J-M and Em-J racing about excited by all the Santa provisions, piles of toys and games and wrappings, toys that make tunes and noise electronically, like trains and planes, dog/child-friendly furnishings, dogs Chance and Sam periodically taking us on for bouts of play-fighting, comings and goings, and the voices of Silverwood and Mr-Em, plus our own Mum and Dad rising above it all. Mayhem, but Puppy-heaven.

I am afraid, I'm suited more to that than the peace, quiet and "keep off the furniture" of Mum (nursing, it has to be said, a minor hang-over) and Dad (scared stiff we'll break something or I might leave a small curl of poo somewhere bad). I have already been shoo-ed out of the "best room" when I was caught lifting every thing one-by-one out of a pot-pourri, so now I'm confined to the more dog friendly kitchen area, where there are at least dog toys. One (rather alarmingly) looks like a pink ghost and laughs like the Laughing Policeman when you chew it's arm

Never will suss humans. Why can't we just stay in Silverwood?

Deefer

So far so good for the Piggies

Still Silverwood-ing, so some of each day spent sifting through the wreckage of human discarded "stuff"; new piles of packaging to pull out of bags and redistribute (re-use, reduce, recycle?), bits to chew. Plenty of play-time too,with extra friends, Sam and Chance. Doesn't always work. Chance is an old boy, and Sam sometimes has eyes only for Megan (I think it's lurve)

Went for a lovely walk in the local forest. Silverwood and Mr-Em have been left with a lovely dog next door to dog sit for a few days. Name of Tammy, she's a big fluffy wolf type thing, a bit Husky, maybe. Not sure of the breed but she may be a white Chow. Young and scatty and full of bounce,plus not reliable off the lead, so she had to stay on, but the humans used Megan's extendy one, so Tammy got a good run around (bounce around) with us.

Megan made every one laugh. She's a very plain-speaking dog, and can make humans understand most things. Stand by door pawing it or barking for "let me out", nudging shins with nose for "give me a fuss",woofing then looking pointedly at the waterbowl, for "fill my bowl" - same for food. Other demands are made with gruffing noises and teeth clashing. If what she wants is not totally clear, Mum and Dad have a way of saying "Show me then" and she will trot off and they follow her to where ever she leads them, and it all becomes clear what she wants. So yesterday the humans were teaching the children Cluedo, and Megan started all this "I want" stuff. They tried fussing, water etc, but eventually came to "Show me then". Megan promptly trotted over to the Guinea Pig cage and chuffed at it as if to say,"Gissa Guinea pig to play with then"

Nice try Megs!

Deefer

Paper Storm

Before I start, one quick thing I didn't mention yesterday; there is another member of the Silverwood family,the current foster-baby, Baby-M (yes, another M)

Well - I've had an exciting day, that's for sure. I have never seen the likes. You would not beleive the frenzied activity this morning, as 3 small humans unwrapped a small mountain of gifts in record time, the paper ripping and flying about like leaves in a hurricane.

I can now list for yousome good things to eat on Christmas Day,

Custard cream biscuit dropped by baby

Football

Baby's dummy

Wheels of toy train (train also worth barking at as you can make it change direction)

Paper

Santa sacks

Unfortunately, all the more likely doggie-fare was kept from me on the grounds that I already have a "squitty bum" (whatever that is) due to food-thefts over that last few days,of inapropriate food stuffs.I am reduced to "proper puppy food" (zzzzz)

My Dad is an expert at extracting Bratz dolls from their wrappings (lots of card board, wire, threads and strands.), has been thrashed by an 8 year old girl at Battle ships, has chatted to Mr-Em on a Nintedo DS from next door rooms in the same house (comments from Mum that it's easy to keep 2 blokes amused).

Plus I've been for a nice walk round the town via a stream path (lovely dark brown peaty water). Have to go now - must supervise Dad doing the roast potatoes

More (and more pics) when I have more time

Deefer