Burnt Toast and Fire Alarms

I'm in the boot room. He is not. He is just being a drama queen! I can hear him in there on the phone, the list he has researched on the internet so far extends to NHS Direct, St John Ambulance, the local doctor and the Samaritans.

He came grumbling down the stairs early again this morning and made himself some tea and put the toast on. Whilst I went off on my first patrol of the morning he went and sat down and started rummaging through the heap of papers from yesterday clearly looking for something particular. When I returned there were flames licking the underside of the grill and the dining room floor was covered in scattered newspaper. The Owner was sat on the sofa in the dining room asleep. I thought, "Any moment now the smoke alarm will have it's morning exercise and make it's normal row, as it does every morning when he does his toast", but until then I may as well get up on the sofa and snuggle up for a few moments. Now when Owner's Sister came up, her spaniel thing with too many opinions got up on the back of the sofa and laid along the back and I have seen other dogs do the same in pictures, so I thought I'd give it a go myself. Just as I got up there and was trying to work out how to lay down on it, the smoke alarm went off. It made me jump a little even though I was expecting it and my claws couldn't hold me fast and they slid down the side of the sofa. Well it's only a little scratch down his back!!!! No blood to speak of!!!!!! I think it may have been made worse by when he stood up, his head disappeared into the layer of toast smoke and he got a little disorientated. I was sent to the boot room which I think is the safest place. I can hear him in there now speaking to Air Sea Rescue. It's going to be a long day!

The Owner's Sunday Paper

Today has been one marked by certain achievements on my part of which I feel justifiably proud. The Owner and I went to a barbecue last night although with two other dogs, who are my work day friends, the scope for the odd dropped sausage or burger were a little limited.

This morning, very early, he was up again. Now this always worries me after his little disappearing act but after he had his cup of tea we wandered down the road to the office. On a Sunday! He opened up his computer and then shouted very loudly at the screen and then shut all the doors and we went home for breakfast. He was probably tired after last night! Now that seemed, on the face of it, a bad start to the day. But, it all looked much better when a car pulled up outside as I was sat under the hedge. It was the man delivering the phone directory! Oh you should have seen the look on his face when I fired up the big guns as he crept up to the front door trying not to make any noise. He looked like he had more legs than me as he tried to get back to the gate as I put my tail in the air and left him to it. After The Owner fell asleep watching the noisy cars he got up and went outside and I fell asleep myself. I was woken up by another car pulling up outside, such a busy day I thought as I chased off another man delivering leaflets. Two in one day!!! Now awake I wandered off up the garden to find The Owner and stumbled upon him on the lawn, laid on a towel, glass of wine beside him and newspaper spread before him. Well I know how grumpy he gets if I lay on his towel so I ran up and tried to lay on his paper. Well he wasn't laying on it! So he threw me off it. So I jumped back on it. So he pushed me off it again. This time I stuck my nose in his ear as I jumped back on his paper. We arrived at a compromise and I was allowed to sit on the adverts page as long as I didn't leave any stains or smears. Once I had managed to roll on his paper and scrunch it up completely he seemed to loose interest and threw it in the bin with what I thought may have been a touch of a paddy. He must be suffering from last nights barbecue I think.

Parcel Shelves - What are they, What do they do? Discuss!

Perhaps I should first explain. When The Owner had a car, before he disappeared last year, I rode in the back. I like riding in the back, it's my favourite! He would normally open the tailgate and I would jump in, ok, there were one or two rapid changes of plan, when, half way through the jump, I would realise that the back of the car was already full of heaven knows what! In which case I would have to ride in the foot well on the passenger side at the front. But I like cars and that's the way I ride in them!

Now, back to the story in hand. I was sat in the garden watching a bee trying to land on my nose which as everyone knows is a particularly tiring activity, when a black car pulled up outside. I thought at first that The Owner had got a car again but no, it was Owners Sister! She got out of the car followed by a little spaniel thing that had far too many opinions than was good for him in my mind...........and a horse! She said it was a dog, called Millie, but if I explain that I could almost run underneath her without breaking stride you'll understand my reasons for believing her to be a horse. It was then that my little faux pas occurred. The car door was left open and ever hopeful of a little trip out somewhere....... anywhere really, so I hopped in! I thought I had better be a little nippy about it or else I may have been rumbled, so I jumped (in a very athletic manner I thought) from the front seat to the back seat and then without slowing, over the back seat to get into the boot.......... Now I have never come across a parcel shelf in a car before and I am guessing I may not come across that one again, judging by the way that what was left of it after The Owner helped me out of the car, was shovelled up and into the dustbin. Does anyone have a spare parcel shelf for a black car like the one The Owner used to drive? I may have a use for it!

My Cushion Returns

You will, I am sure, feel as relieved as I was that I eventually get my comfy cushion back from being ruined. Now you will be asking asking yourself as to exactly how or why it has taken him so long to return it to me after this ruinous process. He first stole it from me and then woke the washing machine up far too early in the month for what it has become accustomed to. It promptly had a hissy fit and pumped water all over the kitchen floor which he blamed me for as it was my hair that had blocked the filters. After his efforts at baling out the kitchen from soap and slightly hairy water and aided by two glasses of red wine he forgot about my cushion. I, however, was constantly reminded by the hardness of the floor! He was reminded when the smell of damp washing, left too long in the washing machine, came wafting through from the kitchen, so it had to be washed over again. This time he remembered to get it out of the machine but instead of just putting it in the tumble dryer so I could have it back again, he opted to dangle it over the fence to dry. It rained that night! Being made of foam it had absorbed most of the rain from the surrounding fields by morning and so had to go back in the machine again. Again placed on the fence to dry it attracted the unwelcome attentions of Pigeon, who landed on it and gave it the full benefit of his abilities in the "pooing on The Owner's car " department. Back in the washing machine again after an accusing stare was directed towards me (like I had anything to do with that!). This time it was put straight into the tumble dryer as I had thought it ought to have been right at the start. I don't like to mention that I was right all along, but I think I was! So this morning, after much ado about nothing, I was presented with my clean Comfy Cushion. Clean, that is, if you regard the smell of "spring blossom" as being clean. I am currently looking for a suitable something to roll in and then roll on the cushion to restore the equilibrium a little.

My World is not good

This has not been the most auspicious start to any of my days I have ever had. After the "theft" by The Owner of my comfy cushion last night and wilful destruction of the same by placing it in the washing machine with soap and smelly stuff and turning it on.

Then the subsequent discovery of not only his hat, which I had only slightly chewed, and his tatty old jacket, but several other little treats I had squirrelled away under there for my personal pleasure. He has of course also discovered without any doubt that it was me who thieved his chicken, left in the sun one evening to thaw out by way of certain "evidence" hidden under my cushion, which he waved accusingly under my nose. I took myself off to the boot room after all that. This morning, I took myself off for the early patrol and returned to be reminded that there was only bare floor where my cushion would normally be. It seemed a fitting replacement would be one of his cushions off the settee. You know, the ones made of velvet. As soon as he saw me, I was getting a strange vibe from him. Even more so when he unceremoniously evicted me from the cushion by whipping it out from under me like a magician with a table cloth. So I sat, on bare carpet, disconsolately watching the telly, when there was this article on the news about my nemesis. Ducks! And they were laughing at me as they swam about their pond. I think I may go and find a hedge to sit under somewhere.....

Never Right!

The Owner has an expression for moments when an apparent injustice has befallen him. In the dulcet tones of his west country accent he would utter with great gravitas, "Never right!" and I think this is one of just those occasions. Earlier, I had been on patrol, a quick trip round the paddock to see if my mate Adge the Badge was about.

It was probably a little early for him so I returned to the cottage. As I came scampering through the door into the boot room there stood The Owner, by the washing machine. Now I know that it is a matter of some consternation when The Owner gets too close to the washing machine outside of his monthly cycle but this was a matter of GREAT consternation! He stood there with this look of concern, bordering on irritation, upon his face as he waved his old hat around on his index finger. How did he ever find that?!?!? After I had a little chew on it one day, when I needed a little comforting, I hid it behind his old jacket underneath my comfy cushion. Now you would be forgiven, as I thought should I, for believing that it would be safe from discovery hidden under there. So how did he find it? I went scurrying off to find my comfy cushion and escape from the accusing look which was coming my way........ but it was gone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am finding the disappearance of my comfy cushion, the reappearance of his old hat (with added ventilation - K9 stylee) and the out of calender sequence rumblings of that washing machine in the corner of the kitchen may perhaps all be in some way connected! As I said; "Never right!".

Nettle Rash

Yesterday afternoon I was a little less than comfortable and this morning I have a little rash (in the gentleman's department seeing as you ask!). It was raining buckets yesterday morning here and I had the distinct feeling that The Owner was not going to be going out that door for the morning patrol very early.

Did I say distinct feeling? Should have read 'distinct wish'. You know where you are with rivers and ponds but when it is coming from the sky, water is an altogether unpleasant experience in my books. So, rain clouds empty, a lazy patrol was in order. We took off down towards the studio (See, he has even got me calling it that now) and I stopped at the end of the manor garden wall to spray a little of my own water. The paddock just beyond the gardens wall is usually empty these days so imagine my surprise when these brown calves, all ten of them, stuck there heads through the railings with a low bovine rumble right beside where I was weeing! Well I jumped (and who wouldn't) which is a dangerous thing to do in mid flow. Unfortunately in doing so I managed to dangle my gentleman's bits in the nettle patch! A most unpleasant experience and I admit I let out a little yelp, but despite my best efforts to wash it off, the stinging got worse. Even jumping in the pond brought little relief. I thought The Owner may have been suffering from the same problem at first as he was sat on the floor holding his belly with tears running down his cheek. But no! He was laughing at my misfortune to the point where he couldn't stand up! I am thinking his armpits need to be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels here! This morning the stinging has stopped and left me with more of a tingle and a rash which still has elicited little in the way of sympathy from The Owner. Weeing up posts etc. has been a delicate and careful affair this morning.