The Owner's Evening Visitor

Last night The Owner had a Lady Hoomun come to see him. I've seen her before in some of the groups of his friends but he told me that this was a "Private matter". When she turned up I did my best to make her feel welcome by rolling on my back and doing the silly run, out round the tree and back and other stuff like that.

The Owner made them both a mug of tea and they sat down. Well this was normally my time for a fuss so I rolled over The Owners lap and stuffed my nose under his hand to try and attract his attention. So The Owner shut me in the dining room. It was obviously a misunderstanding so I went through the kitchen and stuffed my nose on the back door of the boot room and went outside and round the cottage and in the front door and back to where The Owner was sat. It seems that it wasn't a misunderstanding as I was promptly put back in the dining room and both doors were shut this time. Harumph! After a while The Owner came in to make another pot of tea and so let me go up the garden, he had obviously forgiven me I felt, so I went quickly up to the woods (because I needed to, alright?!) and then came running back down, across the patio, through the boot room, through the kitchen, through the dining room, down the hall way building speed all the way and then did my silly run twice round the living room carpet. I thought that would make him smile a bit! I did notice he looked quite peeved so I went faster. It would seem that the cards and paper across the living room carpet didn't require muddy pawprints, or reshuffling, and were apparently quite important. Neither did the two tea mugs require knocking over. Lady Hoomun left soon afterwards, I guess, although it is a little difficult to hear properly what is going on in the rest of the house when you're shut in the boot room.

The Cow with a Calf

It is raining here ever so hard and apart from The Owner getting very wet on the way home for lunch because he didn't believe the forecast and didn't take a jacket with him to work this morning, I actually quite like the rain. You understand that my concern about The Owner's well being is only borne from the knowledge that he will get wet, then cold and then grumpy. The down side of all the rain and stuff is that all y efforts at weeing up post, trees and other bits and bobs all get undone as it gets washed away. So on the way home I nearly ran out of wee and only just managed to find enough to do the tree on the front path to the cottage. It was a bit of a struggle! On the walk back despite the fact that it is still raining and everything had been washed away again I was unable to repair the damage and so at the moment my territory is largely unprotected. This leaves me feeling quite vulnerable at the moment. So the walk back to work was a more straightforward process than I would normally have done; until I got to the paddock by the old barn! Can we have a few dramatic chords at this point? In the paddock is a cow with two young calves, only a few days old, so I wandered up the grass bank for a closer look at mother and child. Then I saw it! What on earth is going on here? Is this right?

The Garden Gate

Tonight, by the time we got home from the office, you'll be pleased to know I am sure, I was feeling a lot better after my hangover. When we got in The Owner fed me and I went up the garden to the woods at the top to do what dogs do best in the woods after feeding. Ever mindful of my little "Ooops!" yesterday I made a very cautious return to the cottage taking particular care when passing the patio table. Things were going well I thought. After a while The Owner decided it was time for my evening constitutional across the fields and I was REALLY excited after having done very little all day but feel sorry for myself. We got to the front gate and The Owner opened the latch. Now I know the gate opens inwards but I forgot myself and burst forth and now the gate opens outwards. Well it doesn't really open either way now, it just sort of lays on the floor, propped up on one edge. Does anyone have any gate hinges they don't want?

I've Got a Hangover!

You may recall how yesterday I was doused in a bottle of what The Owner described as 'the finest of wines' and I was left in the boot room to clean myself up a little. Well this morning I still have a pretty pink patch on my back and side and to cap it all I have a bad headache and I don't feel well! Is this what you hoomuns have to go through after you've drunk some of this stuff? Can't imagine what would have made anyone think this was the result of a good night out. I feel grumpy as well so heaven help Postman when he arrives, I may have an opinion on the matter!

The Large Wine Glass

We've been out for most of the day, The Owner took me to a car boot sale this morning. Not sure why as he already has a boot on his car which looks perfectly good to me, but I went along with it. He went from stall to stall arguing with all of them about whether or not he could buy it cheaper, new, at the supermarket.

I made a little mistake early on in the day by weeing up the first post I came across. Well I was bursting! I didn't know it was an antique hat stand, whatever one of them is! We had to scuttle on down a few stalls quick to get away from some people who were just a little less than amused by my efforts and watched us for quite a while with their hands on their hips. A bit unnecessary I thought! All was not lost though as we found a burger van, it was not the Hoomun Lady Burgervan Owner that I know but she was ok as she gave me a sausage when The Owner wasn't looking. He seemed particularly pleased when he found a wine glass, which he told anyone who was daft enough to listen, was built to hold a whole bottle. On the way home we stopped in Tesco Shop and he bought a bottle of wine. Now usually he has a couple of empty bottles at home with expensive labels on that he fills from a plastic bottle that costs no more than £2.99 and then takes it out to his guests and lets them watch him pour it into his decanter. But, today he bought one that was worth lots of money, more than a whole months supply of Bonio's. When we got back we went and watched the cricket over the way and then came back and he started to prepare some mouldy cheeses and some slices of mouldy sausage (yuk, not touching them myself!). He fed me and I went off up the garden to the woods at the top to do what doggies do best after a meal and then came rushing back down the garden feeling relieved and well pleased with my efforts, round the corner and straight into the table he'd put out. His expensive wine, in his new glass, was on the table........... and is now all over my back! I am now in the boot room, with the door shut! He is indoors somewhere drinking more of his cheap plonk from his cheap glasses. Don't think I will be getting a Bonio tonight somehow.

The Village Fete

The Owner arrived back from the supermarket in town clutching a little packet of something which he threw in the washing machine, along with his pink shirt and trousers and one or two other bits he'd turned pink as well. Then he opened the door again and checked through it all for anything that may have been a colour other than white then closed the door again.

He looked at it for a while, holding his chin, and then opened the door and checked for a third time, just in case. With the washing machine gently whirring in the corner the phone rang, it was Tesco, ringing to say they were sorry for their driver being late getting to him and she could be another half an hour. About half way through I saw a light bulb come on as he suddenly remembered the delivery, so he made much of how he had "been waiting in all morning for her to turn up" and "is this the way they treat their customers" etc.. Tesco Driver Lady Yoof turned up and was severely 'tutted' at for his inconvenience and immediately forgiven when she knocked his delivery charge off the bill. We went to the village fete this afternoon and he refused to take his blazer off because of a very pink shirt, even though it was too hot. The Hoomun Lady with the breath that could de-scale a kettle from a hundred yards was having a big argument over what was the correct filling for a Victoria sponge with the two old sisters from the Old Rectory, so that hadn't changed since last year, they were arguing about it then! Vic R. was there with his family and I still cannot work out what Vic's surname was. The Owner was joking with him about his dog collar but my one is not white like that. I went and sat behind the burger van hopeful of a morsel or two and was not disappointed and even more so when the two sisters and the lady with the breath that could de-scale a kettle etc. worked their argument up to such a pitch that they were throwing cakes at each other. I of course volunteered to clean up after them. Oh the tranquillity of village life!

The Small Boy visits with Strange Woman

Last weekend Small Boy came and spent the weekend with us and he brought his mother who I think is called Strange Woman. At least that's what The Owner keeps calling her. The woman was a whirling dervish! If it wasn't screwed down then it was put in the dishwasher or washing machine, if it was screwed down or too big for her to lift then it was hoovered and polished!

She was getting far too close to some of my toys for my liking so I took my favourite little red dragon soft toy and hid it upstairs where I'm not supposed to go. This morning it has resurfaced! It is the morning of The Village Church Fete when traditionally old ladies draw battle lines over a Victoria sponge and The Owner likes to wear his special Village Church Fete white shirt and cream coloured trousers with his blazer. So he gets them and washes them for the occasion. You're ahead of me here aren't you? My little red dragon is a pale imitation of its original self and The Owners shirt and trousers have a distinct pink tinge to them. Fortunately Strange Woman seems to have got the blame! He's jumped into the car and rushed off to town to get something to remove the colour which in itself is going to cause further problems as the Tesco Driver Hoomun Yoof is due any minute and after last weeks shouting match over the missing Bonio box (Tee hee, got away with that!) I don't think he will be feeling much like waiting at the gate for The Owner's return. The day could worsen yet as he will be looking for his funny straw hat later and I know that is behind the tumble dryer in the boot room, half chewed and full of fluff and cobwebs. I'll keep you posted.