More Pungent Flowers!

I have been out in the garden, when it wasn't raining, and have been exploring the cherry orchard. Anything to avoid the noise coming from The Owner as he watches the Whales indoors! Walking round the corner, thinking that there are no more things to worry about as far as pungent flowers are concerned, when I stumbled across these! I may try and dig them up quick to avoid The Owner finding them! Just in case!

Men With Funny Shaped Balls

It is always a great source of excitement for me, when I play ball in the garden with The Owner. I pick it up and rush around the garden and The Owner gets very red in the face as he throws himself at the ball whilst I rush off with it in my mouth in a very athletic fashion. He then picks himself up and shouts a lot, not sure who at or what about but he does get very loud about it sometimes, before he chases me again and we do it all again.

Sometimes I get a bit too carried away and I make the ball go hiss in my mouth and then it turns a funny shape and then The Owner throws it in the bin and goes and buys me a new one, albeit a little too begrudgingly sometimes. Today he is watching the telly, we have already watched the very noisy cars going very fast back to where they came from, (and incidentaly, I have given up trying to understand the rules, as there always seems to be someone with a strange name, who, according to The Owner, doesn't do it right). Now we are busy watching loads of men running around a field chasing a ball which, frankly, ought to be thrown in the bin as it looks to me as though someone has bitten the ball and it has gone a very funny shape! And while we are at it why does he keep calling some of them Whales. I don't know too much about them as I have never met one, but I didn't think whales got out of the big village pond down near where Small Boy lives and when they do there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth by some hoomuns. Or should I have spelled that whaling? Whatever, there seems to me to be far too much testosterone in this room today, I think I may be developing one of my headaches! Last week The Owner went out for the day and came back smelling of hospitals again. I think I have heard him talking about making rangements. I don't think I have seen a rangement yet so I am not sure if I need to have an opinion about them. I will keep you informed!

Hurdles

Sorry, permit me for a moment. It's worth spending a couple of minutes... and you think you have hurdles you can't overcome?

The Mini Dyson Does Have a Brain

Well I think it served them right for leaving the poor dog terrorised by this thing all day! A mini Dyson and I'm sure The Owner's Dyson can do this kind of thing too!

Small Boy and The Damson Tree

Small Boy arrived yesterday with Owners Daughter and I was so pleased to see them I did my silly run out around the tree in the middle of the lawn and back twice. You may have noticed I have elevated the status of the bush to tree as it seems to have done quite well this year and is now blocking the path to the front door. It blocks it enough to make Postmans arrival at the letter box on a wet day a somewhat soggy affair.

Sorry, I digress already in my story. After much excitement and a crafty sneak of Owners Daughter’s crust from her sandwich at lunch time, an afternoon of great activity looked promising! Small Boy was detailed to retrieve several of The Owners tools from all around the garden, behind hedges, up trees, wherever Small Boy had left them after using them on his last visit and from where The Owner had been completely unable to locate them which always seemed to be a matter of some frustration for The Owner. His frustration was helped little when Small Boy went up the garden and found them all so easily. The Owner then began compiling a list of many other tools which had gone missing over the years to see if he could find them with the same consummate ease. Small Boy was then sent up the damson tree to pick damsons, although I am not sure what they are as they are above head height, an area which tends to bother me little. Small Boy complained bitterly about his task and when The Owner informed him that small boys were always sent up the chimneys in years past it did little to improve his demeanour. Small Boy, up a tree, picking Damsons, seems to involve throwing twenty or so to the floor and then putting one in the bag. When I say on the floor, I really mean they have to be first bounced off my back or The Owners head before hitting the floor. It would seem also that damsons stain quite a lot and I can see many purple blobs staining my back. Fortunately The Owner is unable to see the top of his own head and is therefore oblivious to the effect it has had on the top of his head. I hope it stays that way or I fear his cheerful demeanour since Small Boy and Owners Daughter arrived may vanish. He has been out today and returned smelling of hospitals again. Unsure yet if I should be worried about that but I will keep you informed....

Thoughts on Febreze

The Owner has discovered a new best friend and I have discovered another worstest friend. Something akin to The Dyson! I would like to point out that earlier he had already been terrorising me with that nemesis of mine as he laughs like some kind of maniacal despot (well, how I would imagine one would laugh having never actually met one) as he chases me around the living room carpet, destroying all my hidden bits of chewy stick I had brought in from the garden and thought I had hidden.

I thought my moment of torture was passed until he informed no-one in particular that Owners Daughter and Small Boy, who has been conspicuous by his absence this weekend, were running very late from their planned arrival due to Owners Daughter taking too long to put her face on before meeting her public this morning. This fills me with a sense of dread as he then has nothing to fill his time as previously planned. I believe you hoomuns have a saying about the devil finding work for idle hands or something like that? On this occasion the devil found a spray tin of Febreze to fill his idle hands with! All things, including me, my comfy cushion and my duvet (silk, obviously, as I have breeding, had I mentioned I was born and trained on Lord Bath's estate) were sprayed liberally with the stuff. He justifies it to me by saying Owners Daughter is coming but he is now prowling the house looking for something, anything else, to spray. He has now got another menacing look in his eye as he looks at me and I think I may yet be getting another liberal application of the devils spray. He is already calling me 'The Fragrant One' again! I think I may go and find some dead badger to roll in!

Pigeon's Morning Visit

This morning I am not happy! This morning The Owner is not happy! This morning, perhaps for the first time ever we are unhappy about the same thing and from the same perspective! 


Last night The Owner took me to the pub, perhaps predictably on a Friday evening but that is the kind of predictability I can cope with. Barmaid Hoomun was there yesterday evening although she is not the cause of OUR ire. Barmaid Hoomun I like, because she tends to give me little treats when The Owner isn't looking. But I am a K9 of some breeding, and not a little learning in hoomun terms, so although I can't speak hoomun, I can type it and I can certainly understand it, even some of The Owners more colourful language. So why does she have to talk to me in such an infantile way? "Does Jacky wacky want a Bickie Wickie?" ?!?!?!?! Just give me the biscuit and cut the cackle! Some hoomun behaviour I will never understand! 


Sorry, I digress already. When we came home last night the sun was just setting over the manor and it does throw all kinds of golden light on the trees at the top of the hill opposite. This kind of scene tends to cause The Owner to wax lyrical and he grabs MY laptop and goes upstairs and sit in THAT window where the roses grow if I haven't managed to kill them first by weeing on them. Having been allowed up there once I can see that the view may have a certain appeal to a hoomun. So he sets himself up at the window, glass of wine to one side and MY laptop on the wide window sill. He was up there for some time and only came down when his wine glass was empty and required refilling. You'll notice the omission of the return of MY laptop, that'll be because he left it up there then! On the window sill, in front of an open window! This morning, Pigeon landed on the window sill and hopped up on to the nearest thing to a perch it could find, MY open laptop!!!!! The Owner opened one eye from his slumber and roared from his bed in a non appreciative manner, to which Pigeon responded by depositing last nights supper from it's bottom all over MY laptop and flapping off out of the window. I am looking forward to my next encounter with Pigeon who is currently sat on the electric wires out of my reach saying "Coo" at the spectacle of The Owner and me working together to try and clean the keyboard. Anyone got any wet wipes? I may have a use for them.