A "Dump of Snow"

It is a quiet start to a Saturday morning here at the cottage. The Owner is sitting with his second large mug of tea watching the news and hasn't even shouted at the presenters yet! I believe he is setting himself up to count the number of birds on his bird table for the annual RSPB bird count. Not sure why, last year there wasn't one bird landed on the bird table. I know this to be true as I was sat underneath it watching intently! But I have just heard a report on the breakfast news which I feel I need to disassociate myself from. Our snow has largely gone overnight but there are many pictures of cars getting stuck in the snow and Reporter Hoomun has just announced there was a large dump in the snow last night and I would just like to point out that I was in no way responsible!!! I confined my activities in the dumping department to the top of the garden and after a quick sniff scratched some dead leaves over it so that The Owner doesn't know it is there until he has trod in it.

On Reporters and Photographers

This week I have had visitors! (And lots of Bonios of course.) First there was this young lady hoomun who I think The Owner referred to as Lady Reporter Hoomun. She was mere putty in the hands of one so experienced in the art of Bonio extraction as I. The tally was running at three in half an hour! The Owner pretended not to mind at all, although he was quite clearly counting them up because he short-changed me a bit in the evening Bonio department. The Owner liked her as she laughed at all his jokes, whether she understood them or not and there are few who would do that for him. Most smile and say "Right....." and then he has to explain them by which time they are not funny any more. Then the next day Photographer Hoomun arrived with a camera which had the longest lens ever! Honestly, if he stood it on end it would have been tall enough for even Monkey Dog Thing to have cocked his leg on it! He also gave me a Bonio out of my Bonio bucket so he went straight up in my estimation. Then came the problem! He wanted to take pictures of The Owner and got out this very posh bag which was filled with lots of little bags with interesting camera type things in... and sandwiches... which were very interesting! The Owner was told to go and sit on a big log whilst Photographer Hoomun took lots of pictures so I had a quick sniff at the bag where he left it on the ground outside the studio door. Photographer Hoomun said "Oi, Gerroff!" to me. I pretended not to understand the insult this time round. Well you always give the benefit of the doubt the first time round don't you? In case they have no understanding of my obvious breeding. He followed it by addressing The Owner with "Can you get THAT dog sat in front of you and behaving himself?" That was war! I sat with The Owner as requested for a few pictures, then Photographer Hoomun said to The Owner, "Can we get his best side? Does he have a best side?". That's Ok, I can wait... The Owner started regaling him with all his stories about how he was a photographer many years ago, (which he made up as he went along) so whilst he was distracted I went to his bag, helped myself to his packet of sandwiches and wee'd in his bag. He didn't notice, when he threw his bag in his car, the stream of wee dribbling out of the bottom of his bag. But I guess he will later! :)

The Owners Journey to Work (and I still don't like the snow!).

Oh joy of joys! Let joyousness abound! It's been snowing overnight! Morning patrol was as far as the first post big enough that I could wee up and then straight back indoors for breakfast. Eventually I guess it had to happen, The Owner puts his crusty old Barbour jacket on and his boots, thermal gloves and extra socks inside his boots ready to go outside. What do I get?? A pat on the head! As if that makes it any better!!! I did, reluctantly, venture outside the front door and The Owner was nowhere to be seen. Then there was a big thud on the top of my head as the first snowball hit me. It's going to be one of those days I can tell! So I ran for the gate, just to avoid the heap of snowballs The Owner had already made and got laying in a heap at his feet and which I have the strangest feeling have my name on them. Arriving at the gate, rapidly, I discover that the brakes aren't working properly either this morning, so I slid on my back straight into it. Oh the mirth and hilarity I had to endure over that one! The tables were turned slightly when we got out on to the road as the soles of his boots weren't built for snow any more and he had left his new patrol boots at the office. He did stay upright....just! But that was more by luck than judgement I fear. Imagine the scene... two precarious steps forward and then wave both arms about as if impersonating a windmill whilst he regains his balance. Two more steps and then more windmill waving as he grabs the branches overhanging the hedge for support, which break away in his hand. Then more windmill waving whilst he gets his feet onto the heap of snow that formally was known as the grass bank, where he rests for a while. Then two more steps etc. I left him to it and slid and slithered my own way to the studio and sat in the dry by the firewood store whilst I awaited his lengthy arrival. I am looking forward to going home time as it happens, when hopefully he will be lighting the fire. In the meantime I will be curled up on a duvet behind the electric fire and under the desk if anyone wants me. And no I don't need a wee! Just in case anyone has any bright ideas on such matters.

I Don't Like Snow!!!!!!!!!!!

I am having an harrumph! (Is it "a" harrumph or "an" harrumph? Spell check doesn't seem to have an opinion about it. Unlike almost everything else I write!) The Owner is at the studio and has just made a mug of tea for himself, which means Bonios. But then insists that I want to go out and have a wee!!! Well I think I'll be the judge of that one!

Small Boy and Friends Visit

Sundays, as I have mentioned oft times before, are very predictable and ordered in the cottage. Last Sunday was not expected to be very different, as far as I was aware. I am accustomed to snooze happily in the boot room until The Owner comes grumbling down the stairs, when I try and gauge the mood he may be in from the volume of his grumbling. I do this just to match my eagerness to greet him in an appropriate fashion to his mood. I didn't hear the customary grumbling the other side of the boot room door, but I could hear movement in the kitchen. Now this could have meant that The Owner had fallen asleep on the sofa again and he, The Owner, would likely have a stiff neck and so full volume bouncing would be required to snap him out of any self pity. I heard the latch and the door cracked open a little bit, so I burst forth in a frenzy of greetings......... Where the hell did he come from???? Small Boy was stood there!!!!! Behind him was Driver Yoof!!!!! I was expecting to see Text Yoof and Toni Yoofette too but they were nowhere to be seen. But there was another figure who I have now come to know as Headbanger Yoof, mainly as he is a little taller than the rest and spent most of his day banging his head on doors and other stuff around the cottage which are way above where I need to worry about. I was unable to find The Owner though! It was a Sunday, so I became very concerned that he may have gone walkabout again but I noticed his boots were still there as Small Boy, Driver Yoof and Headbanger Yoof took me off for an early patrol. So he can't be far. We returned to the cottage, after Small Boy had found something new to do with a rope swing by swinging very high and then somehow breaking the rope and flying a very long way through the air and landing in a big heap on the ground. It looked great fun and everyone laughed loudly, but I noticed he only did it the once. When we got back, my breakfast was in my dish and fresh water in the other one and The Owner was sat reading his paper and drinking a big mug of steaming tea.... and grumbling a lot. So no change there then. Small Boy brought a large lump of rock in to the house from the car and gave it to The Owner, which I was a little surprised about as when ever I bring any little treasures into the cottage The Owner usually has an opinion on the matter. But he seemed genuinely pleased with this very large treasure and started taking pictures. Everyone then got in to Driver Yoof's car and we all went to Divine Cafe for breakfast. I have to sit in the car of course, which was where I had my first little incident and knocked over a bottle of coke, all over the car seat. I have to admit there was quite a lot of it and it did froth quite a lot, which was quite interesting. It happened to be on the seat that The Owner was to sit on too and from a K9 perspective it was funny watching him squirm as his trousers became more and more uncomfortable. Small Boy and his friends spent the rest of the day pointing at his wet bum and sniggering, as Yoofs do, I have noticed. Fortunately I believe I may have got away with that one.

The Wet Foot

Today someone used a very rude word in my general direction which I felt was hardly justified in any way whatsoever. After all, I have breeding I do! Had I mentioned that I was born on Lord Baths estate? Late morning was approaching at the studio and there had been no coffee thus far and coffee means??..... Bonios!!!!!!! I always have a Bonio, or two, when The Owner has his morning coffee and time was passing us by here. I was becoming just a little agitated about the whole matter. Then Businessman Hoomun arrived in a very smart suit which was just begging for the odd bit of mud splatter up the trouser leg, I thought. A kind of K9 accessorising. He was actually the reason for the late coffee and more importantly the late Bonio it seemed. So The Owner at last started making coffee and Businessman Hoomun sat on the spare chair near The Owners desk, which is beside the rubber mat where my water dish sits. I bounced round the other side of the desk where The Owner makes his coffee (I always have a little cuddle whilst he makes his coffee, just to remind him I am there and hopeful of a Bonio). Coffee made, and a cup handed to his guest, The Owner stood up with his cup in his hand. Good oh!!!! I thought. He is walking to his computer desk chair and that is next to...... my Bonio bucket!!! Much excitement was called for!! So I did my silly run round the edge of his desk heading for the bucket........ Oh bugger! Who left that water dish on the rubber mat? It was full when I put my paw on the edge of the dish, which shot its contents across the carpet with great haste. The dish was now empty and rolling across the floor like a bit of tumble weed in a western. Businessman Hoomun, however, now had a shoe which was rather full of water... and a foot.....which was now wet. Like a volcano erupting you could see the eruption travelling all the way up from his wet foot until it got to his mouth, by which time it was travelling with some force as it burst forth with much angst. Mainly aimed at me since you ask. It was then that this very rude word was hurled in my general direction. Businessman Hoomun seemed a little less charitable than he was only a moment before so I opted for a quick snooze in the calf sheds, just in case. I am wondering if it is safe to come out yet?

Towels on the Car Seat

This weekend I was on tenterhooks for most of the time to be honest. Owner's Daughter and Small Boy arrived late in the morning. On recent occasions they have been accompanied by Diesel Dog Daughter, and of course, Diesel Dog. I do struggle to understand hoomuns sometimes, but you would think that I ought to understand a fellow K9 quite easily. But Diesel Dog is in a league all of his own and could often be described as just unfathomable. For instance, demented badger running up and down the back of the garden, what's that all about then? He seems to like to run through the cottage round the outside and back through to do it all over again, something which I'm at a complete loss to understand! On this occasion he appeared to be absent although I did keep a very wary eye on the door, the gate, and everywhere else he appeared from in past visits. After a while, Owners Daughter suggested that we should visit a pub in her brand new car. Now I like cars, they are my favourite, so are pubs. The Owner likes them too, although he tends to dribble a lot and spill his beer, I have noticed. Well I was not about to be left at home if there were cars and pubs involved so when Owners Daughter opened the boot lid, without hesitation, I was in. Ah..... I hadn't allowed for the canvas painting in the boot which she was apparently working on. Well, never mind, I am sure with a bit of The Owner's special duct tape it will be as good as new in no time! I rather got the impression that I was not supposed to be riding in the back of her new car and then Small Boy spread a towel on the back seat and opened the door nearest me. Well you don't need to be asked twice do you? So I ran through the puddle and jumped straight in. I noticed immediately that there was a towel there and I know how upset with me The Owner gets when I lay on his towels in the washing basket where he puts the stuff as it comes out of the tumble dryer and as I had already been frowned at once and didn't want to get frowned at again so early in their visit. So I jumped nimbly across and sat on the seat the other side. Small Boy could sit on the towel if he liked but I was not going to risk being frowned at again by leaving muddy pawprints all over the towel! I shouldn't have bothered as I still got frowned at! It will all brush off when it is dry anyway!!!!! Don't know what the fuss was all about, it quite ruined my trip to the pub!

Stinky Labs and the Aga

It was a pleasant evening to start with. Me and The Owner wandered home in the dark, which is always a good thing as The Owner's eyesight doesn't seem able to let him see when I nip through the hedge to have a quick lick at the grass where that reeeeeeeeaaaallllly nice little spaniel bitch has been weeing. Ohhh baaaaaaby!!!! After licking the grass a lot we got home and The Owner fed me, which was nice. Then after pouring himself a large glass of red wine he rummaged through the heap of papers that on Sunday were known collectively as The Sunday Times. He selected a section that he had hitherto been unable to read and settled into his armchair beside the fire which was just starting to display the benefits of the attentions of a couple of fire lighters and started reading and slurping. For my own part I curled up on the small square of carpet in front of the fire in such a fashion that, if I could be bothered, I only need open an eye and I could keep an eye on his behaviour. So I did! Periodically he folded down the top corner of the paper and peered over the top or round the side, looked at me, then chuckled to himself before he returned the paper to its earlier position, upright and carried on reading. Only to do it again and chuckle a bit more a few moments later. This was starting to unnerve me a little and irritate me a lot as I had no idea what he was finding so funny! Then The Owner, unable to conceal it any longer started to read sections of the article he was reading out aloud. The article was written by Lady Reporter Hoomun on the subject of the Aga and she was trying, (it would seem) to convey the comfort of having the warmth of such a beast in the kitchen. There is one in the kitchen at the manor so I am a great convert on the benefits of being able to lay in the warm beside it whilst The Owner was away, but I am a little tired of not understanding why he finds it so funny. Then we get to the crux of the matter. Lady Reporter Hoomun has no understanding of rural reality and mine in particular. I have breeding I do! She seemed to be under the impression, from what I understand of the matter, that kitchens with Agas are occupied mainly by wonky piping, wellie boots and "stinky labradors". I HAVE BREEDING I DO!!! So now, predictably, The Owner is wandering around the cottage chuckling to himself as he mutters about stinky labs and giving me an old fashioned look or two. I will be giving him the odd old fashioned look or two and I feel a protest chomp on his paper when Old Reg the Paperboy delivers it next Sunday. The Owner may expect some reprisals next week too! Stinky Labs!!!!! I have breeding I do !!!!!!

Saucepans and Bonios

Today there are two of us at the cottage, both nursing headaches, but from entirely different causes as it happens. The Owner is the predictable one, he spent last night slurping on copious quantities of "a rather fine wine with delicate hints of autumn fruitfulness". And a kebab! I only realise the quantities involved because as I burst forth from the boot room door when he opened it for me this morning, I managed to knock the empties all over the kitchen floor! My eagerness to get out was due in no small part to the fact that his lordship was either incapable or unwilling to take me on my late evening patrol to relieve the pressure a little. My payback was that the noise of a dozen empty bottles scattering across the hard stone kitchen floor was a little too much for his delicate frame of mind already. My own headache didn't arrive until later. My food being thrown into the stainless steel dish was also a noise too hard to bear and The Owner went for a lie down leaving me to ponder how I was going to supplement the half measures thrown in the general direction of my dish. It didn't take me long before my gaze happened upon several boxes of my Bonios on the shelf where The Owner put them after he stole them from my grasp when Postman delivered them as a gift from the hoomuns that make Bonio. I paced the kitchen as I plotted my plot and decided in the end that a full on charge would be the best option for my attack. So withdrawing to the dining room I began my charge. Across the dining room, through the kitchen door and across the kitchen. Rounding the corner by the dishwasher my plan began to unravel! I was pushing hard and digging deep to get sufficient traction for the jump. However I hadn't allowed for the plastic carrier bag lying on the floor by the larder door. My launch was not as efficient as I had imagined it might have been and instead of making it as high as the middle shelf and the Bonio boxes, I ploughed headlong into the bottom shelf and all the saucepans and casserole dishes. Unable to gain any traction from either the shelf, or the air that surrounded it, I slid back down to the floor with a very loud crash. Followed of course by the saucepans, their lids and a host of other casserole dishes and assorted kitchen appliances. Now, I know there are many questions that baffle the hoomun mind, like why does the toast always land marmalade side down and others, but I have today found another one to add to that ever growing list. If you and a saucepan (or several), start from the same point (the shelf), travelling in the same direction (down); why do you always get to the floor first and always land directly under where the saucepans have decided to land? The noise of course awoke the slumbering hulk otherwise known as The Owner. So now, not only did I get just half a breakfast but I have a headache too, and the Bonios are now on the top shelf and beyond all hope of my reach. I think I am off to the feed sheds in case anyone is interested, it's dark in there!

The Arrival of Diesel Dog

Well I have observed the highs and the lows of hoomun festivities over recent days. Partnerships made or renewed and friendships lost. It is a concept that us K9's understand little of, although I did learn from last year; Never, ever, eat the tinsel! It is particularly uncomfortable when it reappears at the other end! The other morning The Owner was particularly jolly and there was great activity in the kitchen for an hour or two, peeling, dicing and chopping. And as for what The Owner did to that poor turkey! It seemed particularly unfair to me and perhaps just a little too familiar. If I were that turkey I would have had an opinion on the matter that may have been less than favourable! As with all occasions that involve great activity for The Owner, they are followed by a period of relaxation with a glass of sherry and the Sunday Paper on the settee that I am allowed on. Well, it is expected of me, so I climbed up on there with him. I settled down for a quiet moment of contemplation and inward reflection whilst The Owner slurped loudly as he spills most of his sherry either down his shirt or over my head. As I casually opened one eye to turn over a little, I saw a flash of fur go by and at first I was unsure of what I had seen. But the crash that followed confirmed it, Diesel Dog had arrived! His arrival is usually heralded by a period of running, like a demented badger, in the front door through the hallway, through the dining room (which was where I saw him), through the kitchen, through the boot room, out the back door and round the cottage, to come in the front door and do it all again. So today the crash was from Diesel Dog following the routine, until he arrived at the back door in the boot room, where he was met with something unexpected, the door was closed! Wet paws are not good when it comes to traction on shiny floors. I heard a whimper from the boot room and a very subdued Diesel Dog wandered back in. Maybe we might have a more peaceful day after all.