My Little Moment

I have had a bit of a moment these last few days, but I know you'll be pleased to know I am now feeling much better. It all started last weekend when The Owner started rushing around tidying and dusting. A bit like he does when Cleaner Lady Hoomun is due to come in, except she doesn't normally come in on a weekend. The Owner informed me that Owners Daughter was on her way up to see us. He says she is a special one. He says that about Diesel Dog Daughter and Small Boy too. He has been known to say it about me from time to time but judging by the slightly disparaging tones he uses I think the context may be different though. Owner's Daughter arrived much earlier than normal for her, before lunch, and dragged in with her a washing basket full of stuff. Now I have recent experience of hoomun washing piles, the last one I came across sprouted a small pair of arms and legs and had a lot to say on most things so I kept a very wary eye on this one too! Owners Daughter frowned a lot at everything whilst The Owner was making tea and then dived into this washing basket. I thought this would be the point when my peace was about to be shattered, and it was, but for a very different reason. Owners Daughter produced bottles of polish and cleaning cloths and all manner of cleaning stuff which I was fearful may have brought The Owner out in a rash. Not as an allergy, just that it was going to involve cleaning. Owners Daughter then frowned a lot more and gave The Owner a bottle of something unpleasant and some cloths and sent him out into the boot room with the ruddy Dyson. Not as a punishment, but with instructions to clean the fridge and not come in again until he had done it! It was all said in the manner that even The Owner wasn't going to argue! I became a little uneasy at this point coz I felt certain that I had things behind the fridge that I would rather he didn't find and I watched nervously from a distance for quite a while. I was quite sure his pair of gardening gloves, missing since the summer, were squirrelled away under there and I was going to be in dead trouble when he found them. Surprisingly, he didn't find them, so I am at a loss as to where they went! He re-emerged with that triumphant look on his face that normally means trouble and I couldn't help but notice that even though his cleaning cloths looked remarkably clean still, his new white T shirt wasn't. Owners Daughter, meanwhile had been very busy, it would seem, and had found boxes of rubbish, newspapers, unopened letters and a variety of other detritus one could generally associate with The Owner and it was all stacked in little heaps everywhere. This is what upset me and I spent the rest of the day sat between The Owners legs. If he moved, so did I. If he walked around, so did I. You don't want to be taking chances when things are being moved around at the cottage, just in case I might be next. By the time Owners Daughter left that night everything had been put away again and the cottage looked much cleaner but I was still a little uncertain about all this stuff going on around me so I risked being told off for making him spill his wine and stayed walking between his legs wherever he went. I did try and climb on his lap once or twice but he didn't seem to welcome it. This week I have stayed either by his side or between his legs, just in case. I even thought it best to forgo my patrols. Today I was feeling a little better and have been on my first solo patrol this week! The hose pipe is in a heap outside the office, as is the yard broom, there is one less dollop of badger poo up on the hill, I am steaming gently by the electric fire and The Owner isn't talking to me. Equilibrium restored.... result!

The Brown Delivery Van

Today we had Delivery Hoomun arrive, only not in the customary white van that seems to be the cue for much angst from The Owner. This was a brown one! Not the hoomun, just his van. He jumped out with lots of bon homme, and a small cardboard box. "You must be Jack!", he said cheerily. Well, you could have struck me down with an empty Bonio box! How the hell did he know??? Then he presented me with this cardboard box which The Owner pinched out of my mouth as soon as Delivery Hoomun had gone. It had apparently come all the way from America which I think is the other direction from Swindon, so it must be the other side of Chippenham. Now I am aware that there are strange things at Chippenham, like office doors that open without anyone touching them as you approach, so the other side of Chippenham must be really terrifying! The Owner gave me the cardboard box and kept the book inside it for himself. Just as long as he doesn't try that with the Bonio box we shall probably be all right! "Hang on!", I thought, "That book has got me on the cover!!!!!!" I should have kept quiet, The Owner just gave me the bill and said I had to pay it if it was mine. But it is !!!!!! It is the draft copy of my book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All the way from the other side of Chippenham!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, I need a lie down on my comfy cushion now!

At The Proof Readers!

Jack Labrador's book is now with the proof readers! Heaven only knows what they will make of that! The cover is likewise awaiting approval by the publisher. It is set up for hard copy and also going onto Kindle as soon as it is approved. If I have to have just one more argument that "Hoomun" is a real word and not a spelling mistake I can see teddies parting company with prams in a very spectacular fashion.

My Adventure in Sainsbury's

I have had a bit of an adventure this evening! The Owner needed to go to Sainsburys for some groceries. I was confident that this may include the odd Bonio or Markie so I allowed him to go, but wait up... he is taking me too! Sainsburys are my favourite!! We went off with Ugly Sister in his big car but The Owner had "Bizniz" to deal with in town so The Owner opted to get out and walk round town. After presenting Bill with an envelope similar to the ones which seem to cause The Owner so much angst, we wandered to Sainsburys (which The Owner referred to as Sainsbugs and then laughed loudly at his own joke). When we got to Sainsbugs (he has got me at it now) I sat outside and was put on trust. Which means I have to sit outside in the rain like a lemon and get wet. To others it means I am not tied up outside the shop and have to behave myself. I sat there getting wet, awaiting the return of The Owner and as it was raining there was little option of any treats from any passer by. I was understandably despondent and then I heard it. Inside they have a "ping pong ping" announcement thingy, which asked for Mr Jack Greening to report somewhere and then they said "Jack, will you go to the checkouts?" I didn't need asking a second time, it was wet out there! I rushed in and Shop Manager Hoomun tried to greet me (I thought) with open arms. Well it was The Owner I was looking for so I was not about to let Shop Manager Hoomun catch me! I ran (athletically) down the row and more shop hoomuns joined the game, I have to report it was quite fun. But it was The Owner I was looking for so I ran on. More shop hoomuns... no match for my athletic manner. Although I have to report they were becoming more cunning and quite quite persistent. Not a problem.... I would just run around them! Ah... first problem... shiny floors and wet paws....not a problem I thought, it won't take them long to rebuild that stand. Traction was becoming more difficult as I ran into the olive oil stand and slid into the special offer half price wine stand. I found The Owner, predictably, at the sherry shelf. Well I don't think it would take them more than a day or so to put it all back together, which is better than some of The Owners little mistakes, they are still in bits after twelve months! I am thinking we may have to shop in Tescos from now on. Shop Manager didn't seem very friendly!

Nasal Failure!

There are times when I really wish The Owner's armpits were infested with the fleas of a thousand camels! May I just explain that as a K9, having hoomuns blow on, or even worse, up our noses is the worst thing imaginable and will always be met by an unfavourable response. This morning, as autumn extends her chilly grip across this great land of ours (excluding the other side of Swindon obviously) in anticipation of the frosty mornings, The Owner was out in the garden tidying up and putting stuff away. His attentions were particularly caught and occupied by the hosepipe. The short section at the end was particularly shop-soiled after Small Boy's last visit and was removed. The Owner then removed any residual water left in the pipe by blowing down it. Well I wouldn't, it has been within weeing height all summer! Fast forward to this evening. The day, largely being at it's end, I was starting to snooze gently on my comfy cushion. In the course of my slumber I was suddenly and rudely awoken by the most violent and explosive urge to inexplicably sneeze. Once the convulsions had subsided I opened my eyes to seek the cause of this situation and could see nothing to explain what had just happened. The Owner was sat in his chair reading his Sunday paper and the fire was gently crackling in the grate. Assuming it to be "one of those things" I turned my attentions back to slumber, only to be hit by a further irresistible urge to sneeze to the point where I farted and a little bit of wee came out. Opening one eye I could still see nothing to cause this reaction and drifted back into slumber. After a chance opening of an eye I saw The Owner's paper shaking as if from laughter. Then I noticed the piece of hosepipe he had removed earlier in the day poking out from under the edge of his paper and advancing in the general direction of my nose to claim victory in it's third attempt at inducing nasal failure. I know there isn't such a thing as nasal failure, but there is now, I just made it up and it works for me, OK?????? He walks like a camel anyway, smells like one too.....

Attacked by The Squidger

Last night The Owner took to calling me Earle! He sat there watching the TV where we learned for the twenty fifth time how to build an Airbus A380. I pretend to be interested as it keeps him from feeling dejected I guess, that a K9 (with breeding) may have understood the intricacies of building an Airbus A380 on the first watching. On the coffee table in front of him is spread an array of remote controls, one might even call it an arsenal of remotes. There is one for the TV, one for the set top box, one for the surround sound, one for the DVD player, one for the DVD recorder, one for the video cassette player (very old school,) and a spare. So having selected his channel on the building of an Airbus A380 and set the volume level he placed the remote on the arm of his chair and settled back to watch. Again! I curled up on my comfy cushion, which, as it happens, is right below the arm of his chair. After a few moments the remote landed on my head in a very unceremonious fashion. I assumed there was some reason for this being thrown at me so I sort of included it into the folds of my comfy cushion and settled back to enjoy a snooze with one eye and kept the other on the Airbus A380. We were just getting to the interesting part where they bolt the wings on when he changed channels, and then turned the volume up. I was a bit mystified by this! Then The Owner gets up, whilst the volume levels were going up and down quicker than the price of a box of Bonio's and starts pulling all the cushions out from his chair. Having not found what he was looking for, presumably the TV remote, he selects "The Spare" from his now dwindling arsenal of remotes. Tuning back in to watching the Airbus A380 he had missed the best bit and the thing was now airborne, as was the volume level on the TV! I was unsure what he was trying to do. Flicking channels and always back to watching the Airbus program and volume levels up and down as fast as you could say "Bonio's would be nice three times a day please!" After a while of this he got fed up and turned the TV off and announced he was going to bed. I got up from my comfy cushion and left his TV remote on the cushion for him to find for the morning. But it would seem that he was blaming me for the somewhat erratic control of his channels and volume. Ever since he has been laughing as he walks past me and saying "Are you sitting on the remote again Earle?" I think he may be sickening for something.

Am I Famous?

Today is a day of celebration - I think! I was recognised this morning at the gate by cyclist hoomuns as they rode past. I was sat there sniffing nonchalantly at the breeze, trying to work out what to go and sniff at next when suddenly they were upon me, before I had time to work out a suitable opinion to have about cyclists wearing too much brightly coloured lycra (although I think that is an opinion in itself) when one of them started trilling at the top of her voice "Look, there's Jack!". The other one went "Aawwwwwwwwwwww!" I am unsure at the moment whether that was good or not. I will practice my response for another occasion. The Owner has been telling me this morning that I have an ISBN number which is the reason for my day of celebration. I have a question now, what is an ISBN number, do K9's have ISBN numbers and should I be having an opinion on the matter?