Nasal Failure!

There are times when I really wish The Owner's armpits were infested with the fleas of a thousand camels! May I just explain that as a K9, having hoomuns blow on, or even worse, up our noses is the worst thing imaginable and will always be met by an unfavourable response. This morning, as autumn extends her chilly grip across this great land of ours (excluding the other side of Swindon obviously) in anticipation of the frosty mornings, The Owner was out in the garden tidying up and putting stuff away. His attentions were particularly caught and occupied by the hosepipe. The short section at the end was particularly shop-soiled after Small Boy's last visit and was removed. The Owner then removed any residual water left in the pipe by blowing down it. Well I wouldn't, it has been within weeing height all summer! Fast forward to this evening. The day, largely being at it's end, I was starting to snooze gently on my comfy cushion. In the course of my slumber I was suddenly and rudely awoken by the most violent and explosive urge to inexplicably sneeze. Once the convulsions had subsided I opened my eyes to seek the cause of this situation and could see nothing to explain what had just happened. The Owner was sat in his chair reading his Sunday paper and the fire was gently crackling in the grate. Assuming it to be "one of those things" I turned my attentions back to slumber, only to be hit by a further irresistible urge to sneeze to the point where I farted and a little bit of wee came out. Opening one eye I could still see nothing to cause this reaction and drifted back into slumber. After a chance opening of an eye I saw The Owner's paper shaking as if from laughter. Then I noticed the piece of hosepipe he had removed earlier in the day poking out from under the edge of his paper and advancing in the general direction of my nose to claim victory in it's third attempt at inducing nasal failure. I know there isn't such a thing as nasal failure, but there is now, I just made it up and it works for me, OK?????? He walks like a camel anyway, smells like one too.....

Attacked by The Squidger

Last night The Owner took to calling me Earle! He sat there watching the TV where we learned for the twenty fifth time how to build an Airbus A380. I pretend to be interested as it keeps him from feeling dejected I guess, that a K9 (with breeding) may have understood the intricacies of building an Airbus A380 on the first watching. On the coffee table in front of him is spread an array of remote controls, one might even call it an arsenal of remotes. There is one for the TV, one for the set top box, one for the surround sound, one for the DVD player, one for the DVD recorder, one for the video cassette player (very old school,) and a spare. So having selected his channel on the building of an Airbus A380 and set the volume level he placed the remote on the arm of his chair and settled back to watch. Again! I curled up on my comfy cushion, which, as it happens, is right below the arm of his chair. After a few moments the remote landed on my head in a very unceremonious fashion. I assumed there was some reason for this being thrown at me so I sort of included it into the folds of my comfy cushion and settled back to enjoy a snooze with one eye and kept the other on the Airbus A380. We were just getting to the interesting part where they bolt the wings on when he changed channels, and then turned the volume up. I was a bit mystified by this! Then The Owner gets up, whilst the volume levels were going up and down quicker than the price of a box of Bonio's and starts pulling all the cushions out from his chair. Having not found what he was looking for, presumably the TV remote, he selects "The Spare" from his now dwindling arsenal of remotes. Tuning back in to watching the Airbus A380 he had missed the best bit and the thing was now airborne, as was the volume level on the TV! I was unsure what he was trying to do. Flicking channels and always back to watching the Airbus program and volume levels up and down as fast as you could say "Bonio's would be nice three times a day please!" After a while of this he got fed up and turned the TV off and announced he was going to bed. I got up from my comfy cushion and left his TV remote on the cushion for him to find for the morning. But it would seem that he was blaming me for the somewhat erratic control of his channels and volume. Ever since he has been laughing as he walks past me and saying "Are you sitting on the remote again Earle?" I think he may be sickening for something.

Am I Famous?

Today is a day of celebration - I think! I was recognised this morning at the gate by cyclist hoomuns as they rode past. I was sat there sniffing nonchalantly at the breeze, trying to work out what to go and sniff at next when suddenly they were upon me, before I had time to work out a suitable opinion to have about cyclists wearing too much brightly coloured lycra (although I think that is an opinion in itself) when one of them started trilling at the top of her voice "Look, there's Jack!". The other one went "Aawwwwwwwwwwww!" I am unsure at the moment whether that was good or not. I will practice my response for another occasion. The Owner has been telling me this morning that I have an ISBN number which is the reason for my day of celebration. I have a question now, what is an ISBN number, do K9's have ISBN numbers and should I be having an opinion on the matter?