My 5th Birthday !!

Dad and 2CV Llew take off for a bit more sailing. It's a lovely day and there's a nice warm breeze which is in a reasonably firmly fixed direction so perfect for Dad to get some more practice in at being 'skipper'. Watch that foresail 'luff' (leading edge) in case it starts to shiver - then bear away, keep and eye on the wind indicator vane on the mast head, heeling is good, keep red buoys to your left and green to your right when heading 'upstream' into the Creek, keep and eye on the depth sounder, stay focused when going about or you'll end up doing a 180 (or more!). There's a lot to remember, most of which is coming back to Dad from his student Lark-dinghy gravel-pit sailing days. One last lesson which neither of these would be salty sea dogs remembered was that if you buy shiny new life jackets, meaning to look a bit more professional and be a bit safer, they don't do a lot of good still left in their pristine packets down on the ship's bunk. Whoops.

I am 5 today. Hasn't the time flown by? Happy Birthday to me. I dare say there will be raw pork rib 'Birthday Cake' in the picture somewhere today although Mum is deserting us, off for a wee holiday with Diamond (Yeah, I know, I'm phoning the RSPCA right now).

Project Erroll is now in a rather bizarre state. Mum and Dad have signed all the legal docs for the UK end of the thing and handed them in to the Solicitor in Ashford but have not heard anything definite about having "exchanged" per se. They are assuming they will get a 'congratulations' email or phone call from said legal beagle to say "You have now exchanged with a completion date of xxx". Either way, they have now felt safe enough to risk the booking deposit on the purchase in Ireland and to have selected and engaged a solicitor over there, so that the ball has started rolling with a possible completion date over there of early December. The 2nd is being talked about. They just wish the English side would set a bit more firmly to take away the nagging fear that it might still all go Pete Tong.

Happy but Trepidatious Birthday to me?

Deefer (5)

I made it to 4

Well! They all said I was too daft, feisty and annoying to make it to my 4th Birthday but here I am, 4 years old today and celebrating the event with the standard our-house dog birthday-cake of raw pork ribs. Yes, they told me if I carried on annoying the humans at this rate I'd die young, buried under the patio, if I kept on feisty-ing at other dogs, I'd get mullered for sure by a Rottweiler, and if I kept brainlessly pursuing prey animals with the 'red mist' before my eyes I'd end up under a car or some such, but I'm still here.

I will survive! As long as I know how to schlurrrrrp raw pork ribs, I know I'll stay alive.

Thank you, brother Archie for the birthday e-mail.

Happy Birthday to Me

Happy Birthday to Me

Happy Birthday to Deefski

Happy Birthday to Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

Sorry I've been a bit quiet of late. So much going on.

The Deefs

Happy Birthday, Megan

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to Meggie
Happy Birthday to Youuuuuuuuuuu!!!!

...and the humans have managed to co-incide it with a weekend day, so they are around all day to celebrate it with us. We get a nice walk in the early morning Rec, before the hoards of kiddies arrive, and we find a sponge rubber ball which is denser than my tennis ball, so it throws better and is more fun to chase. We meet assorted dogs - Barney the Springer (who "we" have known since he and Meggie were pups), and a new westie called (we think) "Skiboo".

Skiboo lives down the Graveney road and was originally one of three. His Mum had always had three, replacing dogs as they passed away, but 3 years ago, sadly, Skiboo's Dad also passed away, and Mum was finding 3 a handful. Skiboo looked very fine and handsome, a bit like Haggis but is apparently a bit of a nightmare around small children and any other dogs than westies.

In the Rec, the last big English Elm on our corner has finally succumbed to Dutch Elm Disease and produced only a sprinkle of leaves last year and is now officially dead. It's younger brothers and sisters have all gone over the last few years, and been chain-sawed off at ground level. We hear that a different fate may befall this one; its magnificent bole and thick branch-bases being offered to the artistic community for turning into a sculpture.

So for now the tree surgeons have come and lopped it to make it safe, and cut away the wrist-thick ivy stems at the base, so it stands as an ivy-covered statue, the rot inside it evident from the rotted out hollow centres of all the sawn off boughs 30 feet up. Haggis pee'd on it too many times, I reckon.

So, Meggie wins us raw pork ribs for "birthday cake", and we all mooch around the house and garden in the hot sun. Some might say that Mum and Dad are a bit subdued due to pink wine last night, but I'd never suggest such a thing. Megan looks very well on it, and is back in perfect shape (no pot belly) after her Cushings 3 years ago.... well, and now of course, but the Vetoryl every day is obviously working. Her eyes are starting to cloud a bit, but as far as we can tell, she can see OK (when she wants to!), and there's nothing wrong with her hearing (apart from selctive-deafness).

She is surely a testament to the long life giving qualities of being a totally chilled out babe. (Bad news for me, then, says Dad)

Have a Great Day, ol' girl
Deefer