Saucepans and Bonios

Today there are two of us at the cottage, both nursing headaches, but from entirely different causes as it happens. The Owner is the predictable one, he spent last night slurping on copious quantities of "a rather fine wine with delicate hints of autumn fruitfulness". And a kebab! I only realise the quantities involved because as I burst forth from the boot room door when he opened it for me this morning, I managed to knock the empties all over the kitchen floor! My eagerness to get out was due in no small part to the fact that his lordship was either incapable or unwilling to take me on my late evening patrol to relieve the pressure a little. My payback was that the noise of a dozen empty bottles scattering across the hard stone kitchen floor was a little too much for his delicate frame of mind already. My own headache didn't arrive until later. My food being thrown into the stainless steel dish was also a noise too hard to bear and The Owner went for a lie down leaving me to ponder how I was going to supplement the half measures thrown in the general direction of my dish. It didn't take me long before my gaze happened upon several boxes of my Bonios on the shelf where The Owner put them after he stole them from my grasp when Postman delivered them as a gift from the hoomuns that make Bonio. I paced the kitchen as I plotted my plot and decided in the end that a full on charge would be the best option for my attack. So withdrawing to the dining room I began my charge. Across the dining room, through the kitchen door and across the kitchen. Rounding the corner by the dishwasher my plan began to unravel! I was pushing hard and digging deep to get sufficient traction for the jump. However I hadn't allowed for the plastic carrier bag lying on the floor by the larder door. My launch was not as efficient as I had imagined it might have been and instead of making it as high as the middle shelf and the Bonio boxes, I ploughed headlong into the bottom shelf and all the saucepans and casserole dishes. Unable to gain any traction from either the shelf, or the air that surrounded it, I slid back down to the floor with a very loud crash. Followed of course by the saucepans, their lids and a host of other casserole dishes and assorted kitchen appliances. Now, I know there are many questions that baffle the hoomun mind, like why does the toast always land marmalade side down and others, but I have today found another one to add to that ever growing list. If you and a saucepan (or several), start from the same point (the shelf), travelling in the same direction (down); why do you always get to the floor first and always land directly under where the saucepans have decided to land? The noise of course awoke the slumbering hulk otherwise known as The Owner. So now, not only did I get just half a breakfast but I have a headache too, and the Bonios are now on the top shelf and beyond all hope of my reach. I think I am off to the feed sheds in case anyone is interested, it's dark in there!

The Arrival of Diesel Dog

Well I have observed the highs and the lows of hoomun festivities over recent days. Partnerships made or renewed and friendships lost. It is a concept that us K9's understand little of, although I did learn from last year; Never, ever, eat the tinsel! It is particularly uncomfortable when it reappears at the other end! The other morning The Owner was particularly jolly and there was great activity in the kitchen for an hour or two, peeling, dicing and chopping. And as for what The Owner did to that poor turkey! It seemed particularly unfair to me and perhaps just a little too familiar. If I were that turkey I would have had an opinion on the matter that may have been less than favourable! As with all occasions that involve great activity for The Owner, they are followed by a period of relaxation with a glass of sherry and the Sunday Paper on the settee that I am allowed on. Well, it is expected of me, so I climbed up on there with him. I settled down for a quiet moment of contemplation and inward reflection whilst The Owner slurped loudly as he spills most of his sherry either down his shirt or over my head. As I casually opened one eye to turn over a little, I saw a flash of fur go by and at first I was unsure of what I had seen. But the crash that followed confirmed it, Diesel Dog had arrived! His arrival is usually heralded by a period of running, like a demented badger, in the front door through the hallway, through the dining room (which was where I saw him), through the kitchen, through the boot room, out the back door and round the cottage, to come in the front door and do it all again. So today the crash was from Diesel Dog following the routine, until he arrived at the back door in the boot room, where he was met with something unexpected, the door was closed! Wet paws are not good when it comes to traction on shiny floors. I heard a whimper from the boot room and a very subdued Diesel Dog wandered back in. Maybe we might have a more peaceful day after all.

My Smelly Farts

The Owner and I battled through driving rain to visit the pub for an evening of carols last night. Upon our arrival we both looked as though we had visited the pond, which indeed I had earlier in the day after my little brush with the black car with the big exhaust pipe and even bigger attitude problem. You may also remember my reports of The Owner's somewhat less than charitable response to my plight and my avowed intentions for revenge. Well my day had gone well in that regard, as I had created a substantial amount of back pressure to the point where my tummy was becoming... well.... uncomfortable. The Owners face lit up when we got to the pub, the wood burner was roaring well and his favourite chair for such occasions, beside the wood burner, was empty. To be honest, so was every other chair, as he was the first to arrive, which is what prompted his next gesture of largesse which he always makes when the pub is otherwise empty. "Drinks all round everyone, there on me!" Barmaid Hoomun laughs at his joke as though it is the first time she has heard it although he tries to get that one in at least once a week if possible. Drinks all round, bought for just him, he flopped down in the chair and set about his task for the evening of steaming gently by the wood burner. I hid under the chair and waited. First to enter was my mate Vic R and he bounded across the room to shake The Owners hand. So I let out the first little escape of gas... it was a good one and showed promise for the rest of the evening! Vic R went a funny colour and moved quickly on to the other end of the bar. Next to arrive was Lady Organist Hoomun who The Owner knows quite well and he jumped up quick to have a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.... more gas leaks! She asked him if he was staying in that chair and then promptly had the piano moved to the other end of the room claiming it was better for the acoustics. No-one had noticed me hiding under The Owners seat as I parped away. The Owner seemed strangely unable to notice the gut wrenching stench that was emanating from under his seat through the fog of steam that drifted upwards from his jacket as it dried. I waited quietly for my opportunity as the room filled with village hoomuns and everyone all came and stood around the fire with much jolliment and frivolity. I let it go when the most people possible were all stood around The Owner, it was so good it made my bottom sting a bit to be honest, but it was worth it. Everyone went down and stood at the cold end of the bar around the piano. I decided to stay where I was, under the seat and out of the way, just in case anyone put two and two together and worked out that the smell may not have been coming from The Owner. I felt a point had been made and by the end of the evening the pressure in my belly had been returned to more manageable proportions. The Owner, on the other hand looked quite pitiful sat on his own by the wood burner not understanding why no-one would go anywhere near him.

The Car with the Big Exhaust Pipe

Today I got wet on the way to the studio and The Owner was less than charitable about the whole episode! There I was flitting from post to post, doing my best to wee effectively in the face of such inclement conditions, when we got to the pond. Just the other side of the pond is a black car with a very big exhaust pipe which has a great deal to say for itself when it's hoomuns move it I have noticed. The Owner calls it a Scooby Doo and then laughs very loudly, so it must be one of his special jokes which no-one else understands. As I was passing I felt just a quick wee on its bumper may well be in order and so cocked my leg in readiness for the incident. Well, I had no idea its hoomuns were already in it but I soon did when they started it up and it immediately had a great deal to say about everything and blew smoke all over my little boys bits. I was so surprised that I jumped back, well more like ran for my life really. Blind panic just about covered it! I have also noticed how blind panic also removes normal reason from the thought processes! My mind was telling me that the pond is very wet and, like Cat earlier this autumn, I can't walk on water. Blind panic, on the other hand, was telling me that was exactly where I should be running. My mind was of course right and it was proved that I really cannot walk on water and sank without trace. When I surfaced again, coughing and spluttering, I had a liberal sprinkling of pond weed about my person and apart from a car that was laughing loudly at me, all I could hear was The Owner's raucous laughter, ringing in my ears. His laughter, after nearly an hour now, has subsided a little. It is now little more than an occasional chuckle, but none the less hurtful. We are going to the carol singing at the pub later, it will be packed so I will sit under his bench out of sight. I have some very smelly wind I think I may just save for the occasion!

I Try My Luck at The Living Room

Last night, after what seemed like all weekend spent under suspicion, and more importantly, in the boot room, I crept in to the living room where the fire was lit and The Owner was watching the Strictly results. I happened to notice that the tissues were at the ready. Not wishing to chance my paw with the straight forward, full on bouncing round the living room approach, I opted instead for the slide round the door pillar and down behind the settee approach. I next appeared beside him, where he was sitting on the carpet, taking care not to knock his wine over, laying on my back trying to look cute and cuddly. I think he has forgotten about the jacket and the muddy water incident for now, until Laundry Delivery Yoof calls for it later today.

Small Boy Visits!!

Yesterday was a day filled with much excitement! Not the kind of excitement one may get from several boxes of Bonios dropping off the shelf where The Owner had put them so I can't get them. More the kind of excitement from lots of visitors! Mid morning a van pulled up outside and I was initially going to have an opinion on the matter, but then thought better of it as it looked suspiciously like Tesco Delivery Yoof except he was in an orange van. I have now extended my list of suckers from whom a Bonio can be extracted to include Sainsbugs Delivery Yoof! Whilst chomping on a Bonio from Sainsbugs Delievry Yoof, Courier Yoof also turned up with The Owners new jacket for meetings (now I can understand what meetings are about he can go on his own!). Then in amongst the gathering throng arrived another car with a lot to say on the matter and four bodies inside. Imagine my surprise when one of them turned out to be Small Boy! Whilst The Owner unpacked his new jacket, Small Boy took me, together with his friends, Text Hoomun Yoof (who I have met before), Driver Yoof and Toni Yoofette, we went on a sort of mini patrol around the farm and village. We went up a track which is one I seldom get the opportunity to include in my patrols and I happened to find a dollop of well matured badger poo. Mature enough for all the benefits of badger poo rolling yet without the downsides that hoomuns seem to dislike so much. Like..... smell. So I got my shoulder right down into it. Toni Yoofette made no attempt to stop me from having a little roll, so I carried on. I felt she and I would be good mates! When we got back to the cottage, he, The Owner, otherwise known as spoilsport, noticed it straight away! I was marched outside by the scruff of my neck and introduced to the hosepipe and yard broom again. After a little harsh treatment from said hosepipe and yard broom The Owner relaxed his grip a little and I took full advantage of it. I rushed back inside the cottage and into the dining room, where I shook vigorously, beside the dining room chairs as it happens. That would also be the same one that The Owner has hung his new jacket on then! I believe it is being collected first thing Monday morning by Dry Cleaning Hoomun, not sure why!

My Parcel from Bonio Hoomuns

Today I am officially beside myself! I know this because I heard The Owner tell someone on the phone that "Jack is beside himself today". Now I have pondered this for quite a while this morning when I should really have been doing other things. I have studied it from many different angles. I have laid down, I have curled up, I have laid on my back with my legs in the air. I have even run very fast round and round a few times, but I cannot work out what is involved in being "beside myself" and how I must have inadvertently got into such a predicament without even knowing I had done it! Now, important news of the day, about which I am very excited. I have had a parcel delivered today by Postman. My snifter didn't let me down when I deduced that there was more than just the usual assortment of envelopes that seem to irk The Owner so much in the heap that he carried up the pathway, so I thought it prudent not to fire up the big guns on this occasion. Then Postman presented me with a big red parcel with a picture of a Bonio on it!!! The envelope was addressed to Jack Labrador Esquire. I am not yet sure whether I am an Esquire or even what it involves to be one, but if there is a Bonio involved then I can be soooooo many things. Well, when I managed to rip it out of Postman's hands and then rip the covers off in a Bonio fuelled unpacking frenzy I discovered inside not one but ten boxes of Bonios from the nice hoomuns at Bonio!!! I am so excited! Well at least I was until The Owner whipped them all off me and gave me just the one Bonio back. I think he walks like a camel, he smells like one too! Now, I think I am going to have a little snooze whilst I work out how I managed to get beside myself. Are there two of me perhaps?