The Owner's Wet Trousers

Yesterday was not his best, The Owner I am talking about, it started out pretty much as it continued and I only fared a little better. As he closed the boot room door on me last night he was unusually comforting to me, ruffling my head as I walked past saying "Never mind old boy, perhaps we can have a better day tomorrow!". We had a certain amount of rain overnight the previous night which also continued through much of yesterday, so puddles were plentiful and deep as we left the cottage for the morning shuffle to work. He dragged the wheelie bin down to the gate and I sat just inside the gate until he had put it out in the lay-by and then he called me out. There were a couple of cars and a tractor coming from different directions, so he stood in the lay-by and waited and I sat beside him until the traffic had passed. It happened that the point where the car from out of the village and the tractor from the direction of the village was right outside the cottage and the road being not the widest road in the world, the tractor driver, without slowing, put one wheel through the edge of the lay-by. Right through the puddle as it happens! The Owner after shouting a few words that I pretend not to understand, turned and shuffled back in doors to change into a clean and dry pair of trousers and a dry coat. I on the other hand do not have that luxury, I only have the one coat, although at this time of the year I am doing my best to leave most of it over the carpet. So him with dry clothes and me leaving a trail of water on the floor wherever I walked, we left for the studio for the second time that morning. There is still no water in the pond although being the lowest point for miles it does seem to have its fair share of puddles on the road near by. As we approached the pond there was another van approaching at some speed, it was white so I felt The Owner would have had an opinion about the driver which was less than favourable. He stepped onto the grass bank to get out of the way and I did my thing and sat down beside him. White Van Hoomun drove through the puddle by the pond at great speed and I was right, The Owner did have an opinion that was less than favourable. So for the second time in less than an hour he is wet through and I am just wetter than I was previously. Being closer to the studio than the cottage and presumably because he had no more dry clothes at home, we continued our shuffle down to the studio. During the next hour or two, from the vantage point of my comfy cushion under his desk I could see The Owner's foot with water steadily dripping onto the floor. Last night it was dark when we went home and although I can see very well in the dark, I suspect The Owner can't. A car headlights appeared in the distance and he stepped sideways with the kind of steps that people make when they can't see where they are putting their feet and he stepped straight into a rather deep puddle at the edge of the road. There was much swearing and then silence for the rest of the day. I hope today is a little better for him.

The Water Bucket

Life round here this morning has been a little difficult so far. The Owner has had to change his trousers already and my duvet from my bed in the boot room is hanging on the line to dry off a little. But the good bit is that we have a lovely clean kitchen floor and the boot room looks lovely and clean. I suppose it all started last night really, the wood burner was warm and wasp free and outside it was raining and cold. To wee, or not to wee, that was the question. Not a difficult one as it turned out, if I tried to ignore it I felt I could probably last until morning and so opted for the warmth of the woodburner. By the time morning came around I was getting quite desperate, made worse as it happens by the rain overnight, with the water falling off the boot room roof into the gutter and then into the large bucket outside the back door. The bladder still hasn't recovered from the incident last year following the visit from the hounds and the sound of running water only serves to exacerbate the problem. When The Owner opened the door and let me out there was a certain sense of urgency as I ran up the garden to relieve the pressure a little. Whilst up there I could hear The Owner rummaging around in my food bin back in the boot room and so, pressure relieved, I made my way rapidly back to the cottage in anticipation of breakfast. Now this is where my morning started to unravel so early. It had been raining overnight and as I ran across the little courtyard (The Owner calls it the mews coz he wants to sound posh) I slipped a little on the wet concrete and slid straight into the big bucket full of gutter water right outside the boot room door knocking about five gallons of water over. The water hit the inside of the partly open back door which turned it neatly inside the boot room and all over The Owner. That which wasn't soaked up by my duvet or The Owners trousers , and the the boot room not really being designed as a vessel for holding five gallons of water, turned its soaking attentions on the rest of the inside of the cottage. As I said, we have a nice clean kitchen floor now, a carpet that goes squelch every time you stand on it and a duvet hanging on the line dripping. Now I am no domestic goddess, but I feel sure that won't be dry for tonight. The Owner seems less than happy with me at the moment, I might make myself scarce for a while.

The Wasp Burning Stove

The Owner tells me off frequently for bringing things in from the garden, you know the sort of thing, little treasures for burying under my comfy cushion, manky piece of wood for chewing up later and various other little delights. I am thinking at the moment he is rather wishing he followed his own advice. You may recall how yesterday there was an absence of heating oil in the tank and therefore acorresponding lack of heat in the cottage. There was also a distinct lack of logs for the woodburner in the shed rendering a distinct chill across the cottage which he was clearly not prepared to endure for another evening. I have to say that his resolve was something I heartily approved of when he came home early and spent half an hour rooting around in the woods up by the barbie looking for sufficient fodder for the woodburner for the evening. He came struggling down over the lawn dropping more wood than he was carrying and disappeared back up to the woods for a second load. It was then that he thought he had struck gold when he happened upon a big bag of charcoal left over from a barbie in the summer and came rushing back to the cottage carrying his booty with the look of a small child who had just managed to nick his big brothers favourite toy. There was furious activity in the living room with paper being ripped and wood being broken up as he laid and then lit the fire. It was about then when I noticed an advancing army across the carpet. The bag of charcoal had become the home of preference for a colony of a thousand or two wasps who had hibernated for the winter. The warmth from the woodburner and the movement of being carried from the garden seemed to have upset them somehow and they were marching across the carpet to have it out with the first thing they saw moving....me! They seemed to have altogether far too much attitude for my liking so I went for a patrol and left The Owner to it. By the time I returned, he had most of the situation under control but he has been a little restless ever since. Anything that sounds remotely like a buzzing sound seems to put him particularly on edge. I bet he wished he hadn't brought them in. I bet even more he wishes he had ordered oil and firewood!

The Bovine Dinosaurs

This evening I am cold and wet, with the imprint of The Owner's yard broom still tingling on my shoulder. For those of you with not enough original thoughts in their minds, no I have not been rolling in anything badger! The Owner had had a difficult day, I could tell by the ferocity with which he threw his mouse pen back in it's holster and his glasses across the desk. I knew we were in for an extended patrol as we always do when he throws his mouse pen like that and I was right, off we went across the fields and as we went he began to feel better. You can tell, because his grumbling got a little less verbose as we walked. The fingers of dark cloud extended lazily across the sky as the last vestiges of daylight disappeared and the world around us became cloaked in an eerie white glow. A host of celestial bodies cast their combined light across the cold slumbering world around us as we headed for the warmth of home and the promise of a long awaited belly filled with food. Well that's how it should have been except it's damn cold in here as after only the first flush of frost, the oil has run out, because he forgot to order any oil throughout the summer again. As we crossed the cricket field, with the twinkle of light from the porch lantern a welcome and almost intoxicating sight in the darkness. I ran ahead in excitement at the prospect of my tea and through the gate into the paddock, next stop, the front door! I n my excitement I had forgotten about the two barren cows in the paddock and they were lying in wait for me, either side of the gate, in the gathering darkness. Well, to say I pooped myself in terror as these two bovine dinosaurs emerged from the darkness either side of me with a loud "Moo!" would be a masterful stroke of understatement! In my panic I fell and rolled through fresh cow poo and I have to report it hasn't the same satisfaction as a good old dollop of badger poop! I am now cold, wet and in the boot room and The Owner is wandering around the cottage with three jumpers on and every once in a while he stops, looks at me, goes "Moo!" then laughs to himself as he carries on his wandering. I think he looks like a camel, he walks like one as well.

Nettles on the Nose

Today I was duped! Duped I was! By someone with no scruples! I have no idea what it means to have no scruples but The Owner always shouts that at the telly when he seems displeased with the Andrew Marr Show. Together with words like "Slimeball" and "Mandleson". I am not yet sure who duped me but I am suspecting it may have been Monkey Dog Thing as he has not yet exacted any kind of revenge for me encouraging him to wee on his lady owner's car seat some time ago and I am keeping my eyes open still. We are now past the final flush of summer and autumn is exerting it's cold and windy grip around the farm. Our nettles, which I have given a particularly wide berth since I wee'd over one and it stung my boy's bits, are mainly died down in the garden, so I don't tend to pay them any regard. Walking to the studio this morning with The Owner through the wind, which is fortunately clearing the smell of hospitals from his crusty old Barbour jacket, when a waft of a sniff caught my attention from a small patch of weeds. As you would expect from a dog of my breeding and nature it required investigation so I sniffed it. Then I sniffed it again, a bit closer this time and it was then that I discovered how I had been duped. Someone (and I suspect it to be Monkey Dog Thing) had wee'd on some nettles (Presumably from a distance.) and I had just had a good sniff at it and I had now got a very sore nose. I am thinking Monkey Dog Thing may have got his revenge.

The Owner's Been Away

What a busy few days I have had! Full of strange twists and turns. Thursday morning, The Owner and I went off on patrol as normal, BUT, we came home again and The Owner seemed a little strange. Then Bracknell Lady Hoomun turned up, now I have met her several times before and she always gives me a Bonio or two so I like her so I did my bestest little dance, but I didn't get a Bonio so I thought may have to revise my opinion of her. Then The Owner and Bracknell Lady Hoomun got in the car and drove off leaving me in doors at the cottage. I was beginning to fear they had left me as it had got dark and I was still on my own, but it wasn't quite so bad as I had tried all the chairs, cushions, beds and other bits that I am not normally allowed on. Then there was a rattle at the boot room door, in the dark. I was understandably concerned, not that we may be about to be burgled, but that I was being disturbed and I still hadn't got around to trying a snooze on Small Boys bed! It wasn't a burglar hoomun after all, it was Phlee Dog Owner and he took me off to his home, after he fed me, so he went up in my estimation straight away! The Owner still didn't come back even though everyone was drinking wine and I even slept there last night. Their boot room floor was very warm, mine isn't! Still no The Owner though. I did notice that Phlee Dog Owner wakes up after drinking wine with the same amount of grumbling as The Owner! Today, The Owner showed up again with Bracknell Lady Hoomun and he smelled of hospitals again! I haven't finished yet! When The Owner and Bracknell Lady Hoomun arrived back, in the post box was a packet marked "Amazon" and it was addressed to me, more fan mail! Now I have seen how Amazon Lady pictures have a frankly less than necessary affect on The Owner, so I was quite hopeful! So my anonymous fan from BH12 has struck again! More chewies! I shall be having a chomp on one or two of them later.

Fireman Friends

This morning I have made some new friends - Fireman! The Owner got up this morning when it was still dark. Why, was a matter of some mystery to me at first as today is a Sunday but then I realised when, with his second mug of tea, he settled down to watch the very fast and noisy cars drive all the way back to where they first came from. I worry as it is just too early for The Owner and he will betired by the end of the day. After the race was finished and all the shouting at the screen had subsided he begins to fidget. This always means trouble of one form or another and this morning was no exception. Eventually his fidgeting had reached a kind of crescendo and he jumps up and goes out to the kitchen and puts the coffee on and several rashers of bacon under the grill. Grabbing the morning paper he flops back into the settee that I am allowed on to await the smell of bacon grilling gently. Well that smell came and went as I noticed the paper slip from his grasp and fall gently to the floor. I said it was going to be too early for him didn't I? Well I wasn't about to disturb him, I was comfortable where I was! After a while the smell of grilling bacon had been replaced by thick smoke billowing from under the grill, then a kind of pop as the flames started. I found that if I kept my head down low the smoke wasn't too bad and I could snooze on. Eventually The Owner aroused from his snoozing and became very disorientated when he stood up as the familiar surroundings of the dining room disappeared from his view when his head disappeared from my view in the smoke above me. I don't know how Fireman and his friends knew about it but as The Owner burst forth from the cottage front door on his hands and knees making far too much of a scene in my opinion, Fireman stood there with his hose pipe at the ready. His hosepipe was much bigger than The Owners and he didn't manage to squirt me with it, I like him! I like him all the more because he had a Bonio in his pocket for me, have I mentioned that I like Bonio's? In recognition of the Bonio I only wee'd up one of the wheels of the fire engine. The Owner is now looking very sorry for himself as he cleans up the mess in the kitchen. I did say it was too early for him didn't I?

Owners Daughter Has Done a Woopsie!!!

Well yesterday was a day of great significance and unexplained hoomun behaviour for me. The Owner told me that Owners Daughter had a bit of a woopsie in her car. Well when I have a woopsie it usually involves a shovel and a spell in the boot room whilst he clears it up. Hold that thought for a moment whilst I explain that her woopsie involved the front end of a tractor! Now I have seen the big buckets on the front of the tractors on the farm, indeed I have wee'd up some of them, so I know just how big they are. So how much did she do to need one as big as that to clear it up?!?!? Somehow in amongst it all it appeared to need a visit from Owners Daughter, Very Strange Woman, Diesel Dog Daughter and of course Diesel Dog. Perhaps it needed The Owners deft touch with a shovel or something. I left Diesel Dog to do his thing, which inevitable involved running up and down the path across the back of the garden like a demented badger, whilst the hoomuns went indoors and filled out Shoreance forms. Very Strange Woman needed a stamp for an envelope and The Owner had one left in his little book and gave it to Very Strange Woman to put on the envelope. It was at about this point that Diesel Dog's demented badger running involved a quick trip through the cottage and out the front door again. That was when the arguments seem to start, as the only stamp The Owner had, was missing! I wandered outside partly to see where Diesel Dog had taken the stamp but mainly to get away from the argument about who last saw the stamp that was raging indoors. It is a strange sight to see a Diesel Dog running around the garden staring at the tip of his own nose where the glue on the stamp had firmly affixed the only stamp in Wiltshire and oblivious to everything else around him. I can't help but believe that he didn't really mean to run straight through The Owner's barbie at the top of the garden and that The Owner may have an opinion about that later as well as the somewhat less than favourable opinions that he was expressing indoors.

Broken Wires

The Owner returned yesterday from seeing Speshliss and smelling of hospitals again and with two muddy paw prints on his chest. So after the little episode yesterday morning when he acquired said paw prints I felt that discretion was going to be the better part of valour and after evening patrol (twice, as he had left some shopping in the fridge at the studio and we had to go back for it) I opted for the safest option and went to the boot room for the evening. By this morning he was clearly feeling a bit better as I got some of his toast that he left on the plate and put on the floor. I wasn't intended to have it but I was not admonished too much for thieving it so that is as good as having been given permission. So to the studio we did go and I bumped into my little terrier friend, "Chip". We greeted each other as K9's do and I ran excitedly to the studio hopeful of a Bonio. By the time of my arrival The Owner was already inside swearing at the computer so I came rushing in and under the table, ready to look cute in hope of a Bonio. Well I didn't see the phone wires! Or the broadband wire! Or his headset wire, and frankly he shouldn't have had them draped over my Vetbed! The Owner has had to wire up new leads and plugs and appears to be particularly vexed by the matter so I think I may go for another patrol. On my own this time!!!

The Speshliss

The Owner is off to see Speshliss today, I am not sure who Speshliss is or what he does but he had better not upset The Owner as I think I have already done that as much as The Owner can cope with in one day! This morning we went off on morning patrol around the farm, across the paddock and round the cricket pitch taking particular care not to sniff at or wee up the fence that ticks and hurts. Through the hunting gate and across the little sleeper bridge. Well The Owner crossed the bridge with rather a curmudgeonly grumble about slippery stuff and stinging nettles whilst I leapt across in a bright and energetic fashion, hardly breaking my stride. We crossed the field with the dead trees in, which are always good for a quick sniff at or even a wee up but taking particular care not to get too close to the fence that clicks and hurts in that field as well. Then around the back of the farm and back down past the silage pits and through the dairy yard and down to the office. I have painted a picture of rural bliss on the morning patrol? Well I omitted the bit about the first rain in several weeks falling from the skies to "lay the dust", or so The Owner said. It had done just a little too much laying of dust really and the dairy yard was awash with mud as we crossed it. Back at the studio there is always cause for great excitement as The Owner always gives me a Bonio when we get back, had I mentioned that I like Bonios? Well I am afraid I got a little too excited for the occasion and, well..... there were only the two muddy paw prints in the middle of his white shirt. Hardly worth mentioning here I thought. The Owner mentioned it quite a lot however! I just hope that Speshliss doesn't upset him as well or it may be a chilly evening in the cottage and that will be nothing to do with the weather either.