Checking the Sky

After yesterday witnessing such strange goings on the other side of Swindon, which the hoomuns around there seemed to accept as perfectly normal, it has been preying on my mind and to be honest I didn't sleep a wink last night thinking about it. I watched intently as the bus picked up the kids this morning to take them to school and it certainly didn't show any signs of lifting all its wheels off the ground and heading to the moon. Yet yesterday I watched a massive bus on big legs and wheels with funny things poking out the side, which frankly would have made it impossible to get round the corner in the village by the church, take on loads of hoomuns and then jump off the ground into the sky and head to the moon with altogether far too much noise for my liking! The Owner seemed to accept it as normal as well, but that doesn't mean much as anything he does seems to fall far short of being normal as far as I can see. I didn't see the big bus come back down to the ground so I have to assume that it is still up there somewhere and I have spent much of my time today watching, just in case it comes back down here somewhere. I may need to have an opinion if it tries to land in the village!

Terminal Five!

Well, what a morning I have had already. I have been beyond Swindon and discovered that it is indeed a very strange and wondrous place! Early this morning, very early this morning, The Owner came grumbling down the stairs. It was so early that I had barely finished my dream of a bevvie of lady chocolate labs carrying me shoulder high to a secret room that had the walls stacked high with Bonio boxes. I had not yet had time to get on to the one where I gamble carefree through the meadows and wake myself up when I hit my head on my food bin in the boot room through the urgency of my twitching. I wasn't about to complain as he then fed me. Then Phlee Dog Owner turned up in his car and off we went..... past Swindon! We arrived at a place that I think was called Terminal Five, which is a very strange name for a place, then Phlee Dog Owner jumped out, grabbed his bag and ran off through the crowds and left me and The Owner in the car park! I fancied a quick patrol of the big field but I couldn't find a way through the fence and it was far too high to jump over it. As it turned out it was probably for the better as there were what I thought may have been big buses although they were very high off the ground and they had funny flat arms coming out of their sides, I don't think they would get one of them down through the village picking up the kids for school in the morning. All these people were getting on them and then they drove off, albeit a bit noisily, and then this really big one went very fast and very loudly down this big road and then suddenly the front end was pointing at the sky and it was off the ground!!!!! All of it's wheels!!! Off the ground!!!! I last saw it heading for the moon, I think! There was also a K9 called Sniffer Black Lab and he was totally out of control. He went round sniffing at all these people in a manner that most hoomuns seem to disapprove of, when I do that I usually get a sharp slap across the nose and a disapproving look from The Owner. Anyway, there was this lady hoomun with a big bag and Sniffer Black Lab went up to her and did paws and then she got tied up and taken away somewhere. When I do paws I usually expect a Bonio, I now realise that the other side of Swindon it must means something very different. I think I ought to remember that, it may come in very handy! We didn't see Phlee Dog Owner again but I think he may be very cross with The Owner when we see him again, The Owner took his car and he drove home again. I am a bit worried about those big buses still, I have been keeping a very wary eye upwards as the moon has now disappeared from the sky and the bus must be still up there somewhere looking for it. It is a very strange place the other side of Swindon and I am not keen to go again.

The Owner's New Camera!

The Owner has a new camera! Need I say more?

Halloween and all things related.

As I study hoomun behaviour, every once in a while I think I am getting the hang of it and then I get thrown another curve ball and I finish up in deeper poo, and not the kind I can get my shoulder down in either. Tonight was just such an occasion and I am now in the boot room but the back door is open so I have been able to get out and reap the spoils of my earlier misdemeanour. Top of my list of unfathomable hoomun behaviour is "Halloween". Now what's that all about then? All evening the hoomun kids from the little estate in the village have been banging on the door demanding treats from The Owner. I was understandably anxious that The Owner may have given them one of my Bonios but he did give them a little hoomun treat which was a big mistake as it turned out. Word got around and half the neighbouring towns kids from around the county were beating a path to our front door. After the fifth group of kids banging on the front door The Owner was showing signs of losing his charitable bon hommie so I thought I would help out a little and I lay in wait up the top of the garden. A car pulled up in the lay-by and I waited until they got up to the front door before I launched my charge. Silently racing through the cherry orchard, round by the satellite dish letting out my fiercest bark as I arrived in the porch....... well I didn't know he had ordered a chinese take away to be delivered did I? Chinese Delivery Yoof stood rooted to the spot in terror and dropped the bag with the take-away all over the porch floor. The Owner didn't seem pleased to see his tea all over the floor as it happens. Chinese Delivery Yoof seemed unable to understand the mistake either and he seemed to imply that The Owner may be needing to get someone else to deliver his tea in future. So as I said, I am in the boot room but the back door is open. So if you'll excuse me, I am off to have another quick lick of the front porch floor. The Owner has cleared up but I think there may be a bit more flavour to be extracted from the stone floor.

The Owner's Wet Trousers

Yesterday was not his best, The Owner I am talking about, it started out pretty much as it continued and I only fared a little better. As he closed the boot room door on me last night he was unusually comforting to me, ruffling my head as I walked past saying "Never mind old boy, perhaps we can have a better day tomorrow!". We had a certain amount of rain overnight the previous night which also continued through much of yesterday, so puddles were plentiful and deep as we left the cottage for the morning shuffle to work. He dragged the wheelie bin down to the gate and I sat just inside the gate until he had put it out in the lay-by and then he called me out. There were a couple of cars and a tractor coming from different directions, so he stood in the lay-by and waited and I sat beside him until the traffic had passed. It happened that the point where the car from out of the village and the tractor from the direction of the village was right outside the cottage and the road being not the widest road in the world, the tractor driver, without slowing, put one wheel through the edge of the lay-by. Right through the puddle as it happens! The Owner after shouting a few words that I pretend not to understand, turned and shuffled back in doors to change into a clean and dry pair of trousers and a dry coat. I on the other hand do not have that luxury, I only have the one coat, although at this time of the year I am doing my best to leave most of it over the carpet. So him with dry clothes and me leaving a trail of water on the floor wherever I walked, we left for the studio for the second time that morning. There is still no water in the pond although being the lowest point for miles it does seem to have its fair share of puddles on the road near by. As we approached the pond there was another van approaching at some speed, it was white so I felt The Owner would have had an opinion about the driver which was less than favourable. He stepped onto the grass bank to get out of the way and I did my thing and sat down beside him. White Van Hoomun drove through the puddle by the pond at great speed and I was right, The Owner did have an opinion that was less than favourable. So for the second time in less than an hour he is wet through and I am just wetter than I was previously. Being closer to the studio than the cottage and presumably because he had no more dry clothes at home, we continued our shuffle down to the studio. During the next hour or two, from the vantage point of my comfy cushion under his desk I could see The Owner's foot with water steadily dripping onto the floor. Last night it was dark when we went home and although I can see very well in the dark, I suspect The Owner can't. A car headlights appeared in the distance and he stepped sideways with the kind of steps that people make when they can't see where they are putting their feet and he stepped straight into a rather deep puddle at the edge of the road. There was much swearing and then silence for the rest of the day. I hope today is a little better for him.

The Water Bucket

Life round here this morning has been a little difficult so far. The Owner has had to change his trousers already and my duvet from my bed in the boot room is hanging on the line to dry off a little. But the good bit is that we have a lovely clean kitchen floor and the boot room looks lovely and clean. I suppose it all started last night really, the wood burner was warm and wasp free and outside it was raining and cold. To wee, or not to wee, that was the question. Not a difficult one as it turned out, if I tried to ignore it I felt I could probably last until morning and so opted for the warmth of the woodburner. By the time morning came around I was getting quite desperate, made worse as it happens by the rain overnight, with the water falling off the boot room roof into the gutter and then into the large bucket outside the back door. The bladder still hasn't recovered from the incident last year following the visit from the hounds and the sound of running water only serves to exacerbate the problem. When The Owner opened the door and let me out there was a certain sense of urgency as I ran up the garden to relieve the pressure a little. Whilst up there I could hear The Owner rummaging around in my food bin back in the boot room and so, pressure relieved, I made my way rapidly back to the cottage in anticipation of breakfast. Now this is where my morning started to unravel so early. It had been raining overnight and as I ran across the little courtyard (The Owner calls it the mews coz he wants to sound posh) I slipped a little on the wet concrete and slid straight into the big bucket full of gutter water right outside the boot room door knocking about five gallons of water over. The water hit the inside of the partly open back door which turned it neatly inside the boot room and all over The Owner. That which wasn't soaked up by my duvet or The Owners trousers , and the the boot room not really being designed as a vessel for holding five gallons of water, turned its soaking attentions on the rest of the inside of the cottage. As I said, we have a nice clean kitchen floor now, a carpet that goes squelch every time you stand on it and a duvet hanging on the line dripping. Now I am no domestic goddess, but I feel sure that won't be dry for tonight. The Owner seems less than happy with me at the moment, I might make myself scarce for a while.

The Wasp Burning Stove

The Owner tells me off frequently for bringing things in from the garden, you know the sort of thing, little treasures for burying under my comfy cushion, manky piece of wood for chewing up later and various other little delights. I am thinking at the moment he is rather wishing he followed his own advice. You may recall how yesterday there was an absence of heating oil in the tank and therefore acorresponding lack of heat in the cottage. There was also a distinct lack of logs for the woodburner in the shed rendering a distinct chill across the cottage which he was clearly not prepared to endure for another evening. I have to say that his resolve was something I heartily approved of when he came home early and spent half an hour rooting around in the woods up by the barbie looking for sufficient fodder for the woodburner for the evening. He came struggling down over the lawn dropping more wood than he was carrying and disappeared back up to the woods for a second load. It was then that he thought he had struck gold when he happened upon a big bag of charcoal left over from a barbie in the summer and came rushing back to the cottage carrying his booty with the look of a small child who had just managed to nick his big brothers favourite toy. There was furious activity in the living room with paper being ripped and wood being broken up as he laid and then lit the fire. It was about then when I noticed an advancing army across the carpet. The bag of charcoal had become the home of preference for a colony of a thousand or two wasps who had hibernated for the winter. The warmth from the woodburner and the movement of being carried from the garden seemed to have upset them somehow and they were marching across the carpet to have it out with the first thing they saw moving....me! They seemed to have altogether far too much attitude for my liking so I went for a patrol and left The Owner to it. By the time I returned, he had most of the situation under control but he has been a little restless ever since. Anything that sounds remotely like a buzzing sound seems to put him particularly on edge. I bet he wished he hadn't brought them in. I bet even more he wishes he had ordered oil and firewood!