A Real Gun Dog

I would just like to say that the first person who shows this to The Owner will have their legs wee'd on.

The New Flower Bed

I am in the boot room, I thought it safest. The Owner went off early this morning, without me as you ask, and when he returned he smelled of breakfast. I thought I should ignore it and just turn my back on him.. until he produced a box of Bonios so I forgave him immediately. But after Volvo Hoomun had left we wandered home. Even as we entered through the gate he had a worrying look in his eye as his gaze settled upon the garden refuse wheelie bin, emptied yesterday. After he had selected several garden tools that Small Boy had not abandoned around the garden last summer he wandered off with his wheelie bin and I felt sure many of the flower beds breathed a sigh of relief as he passed. At the back of the side lawn there is what he refers to as a flower bed but I suspect to the rest of the world it is a patch of untamed nettles. This was the first sign that the rest of my day was taking a downward turn. Well, I prefer a little seclusion when I.... well... perform. So this patch of untamed tall grass and nettles had the products of my many "performances" in various stages of dehydration and decay. The liberation of each former dollop brought fresh looks of disapproval from His Ownershipness. But I have to say it was worth putting up with the disapproving looks to see the freshly tilled soil appearing behind where he was working. When the rain shower dampened things for a while he went inside and made a pot of tea and we had ten minutes bonding sat in the porch on the seat whilst he slurped loudly at his tea and I chomped equally loudly on a Bonio that The Owner had in his pocket for me. Rain stopped and tea finished we went back outside and this was the bit where it went downhill a little. Well, quite a lot actually. The Owner was busy terrorising a worm he had found and I suddenly noticed the after effects of having had a Bonio. Well, when it goes in one end it has to appear again somewhere doesn't it? So out of habit it appeared again in the nettle patch, only it wasn't a nettle patch any more but a freshly tilled and weed free flower bed. The same flower bed that The Owner was now crawling around on his hands and knees putting bedding plants in. Well if he hadn't been crawling backwards he would have seen where he was going wouldn't he? And if he had been watching where he was going he probably wouldn't have put his knee in my own fresh efforts would he? The pattern it made on his knee could have been an entirely new form of divination I thought. But when I looked, the omens were not very good for me! Something reinforced by the roar of disapproval emanating from The Owner, so I thought it best to retire to the boot room for the night.

The Owner's Cramp

After yesterdays insensitivity on the part of The Owner when he caught me exploring the lavender (yuk and double phew) I spent the evening wishing his leg would fall off and imagine my surprise and panic when I thought I had achieved it! The Owner will tell everyone who is foolish enough to ask that he doesn't go to bed until midnight. Although that is strictly true it doesn't stop him falling asleep in the armchair at half past nine and there he will stay, snoring for England until the fire has gone out and the evening chill wakes him again. Last night the routine was as normal until, mid snore, he jumps up and jumps around the living room shouting at the top of his voice clutching his leg. Well I was convinced my wishing his leg would fall off had been just a little too successful so I made for the boot room straight away, just in case he worked out my involvement in his predicament. The rumpus had not subsided after several minutes so I ventured a quick peak around the corner and noticed that fortunately his leg was still attached so I was off the hook for that at least. I couldn't say the same about the furniture though! The Owner was rolling around the floor clutching his leg shouting at the top of his voice "Cramp Jack! Cramp!!!!" I had no idea what cramp was before and I am still not entirely sure but The Owner has been milking it all day today limping loudly (and yes you can limp loudly, or at least The Owner can) until someone, anyone asked him if he had hurt himself. After half an hour of indepth descriptive prose on the intensity of the pain, his victim loses the will to live and wanders off to find something else to do, anything else to do really. I think I will do the same in case he breaks any more table legs this evening. I can still smell lavender from yesterday!!!

Caught sniffing the Lavender (yuk and double phew!!)

Oh the ignominy of the whole thing! The shame! The disgrace! What was I thinking?? I was on patrol around the garden after tea when I happened to notice that the lavender were "On the move". I know that is the right expression as The Owner is always saying it. Well, in anticipation of the forthcoming spectacle of The Owner wandering around with his trumpet stuffed in the rose (yuk and phew!) flowers and the lavender (double yuk and phew!!) bushes, I thought I would try and acclimatise myself a little and have a crafty sniff and sort of build up to it; whilst they don't smell so bad. It was traumatic but I steeled myself and shoved my nose in. It wasn't pleasant but it had to be done! I heard the click of a camera....... OMG what have I done????? I knew what I had done, I had been caught sniffing a lavender (double yuk and phew!!) bush. The Owner is printing this picture off as I write and I suspect it is going to be all over the village by morning. I hang my head in shame.....

A Very Dead Computer and The Art of Discretion

Delivery Hoomun has been and I knew better than to make any comment or opinion. He has delivered The Owner's new hard drives for his computers so there will now follow a short interlude whilst I keep out of the way as I think the afternoon shows great promise of much wailing and gnashing of teeth. I think it could be me who is in need of a glass of wine by tea time as well as The Owner!

The Owner has Been to Vote

Wow! Well what a day I have had and to be honest I am quite glad to retire to my comfy cushion with a succulent Bonio to chomp upon. During this week we have had major upheavals in the village with roadworks and much digging of holes and things. Today, The Owner and I were wandering along the road past the roadworks when The Owner decided to stop and pass critique on their work. Now, I have noticed that hoomuns like to stand around holes and discuss things with a great deal of gravitas and arm waving, and today was no exception. The Owner and Road Hoomuns were obviously into a long discussion about the hole in the road, its merits or otherwise and was not going to require my input as far as I could see. So after Road Hoomun Yoof was sent to stack up the cones I wandered down the line of them and nonchalantly cocked my leg up most of them. Road Hoomun Yoof seemed to take great exception to my activities and bellowed like a bull calf and I got the impression it was aimed at me somehow. I was quite glad that The Owner had finished his discussion with great gravitas about heaven knows what and came and rescued me. I think it was the blue cone that caused the problem for Road Hoomun Yoof although some of my wee missed so it didn't get the full effect. Good job he was standing behind the cone to catch the excess really. Now ordinarily that would have been enough for the day but apparently it is "Voting Day" today. So this evening we went to vote. The Owner can vote, whatever that entails I have no idea as apparently K9's are not allowed to do it. I gather that The Owner was expected to give his vote to someone or other and there were several who seemed to want it hovering outside the village hall when we arrived. Funny thing was that most disappeared as soon as The Owner produced a list of things that he needed answers about and was looking for someone who was stupid enough to look in his general direction. After about two hours of this remonstrating a white van arrived and put the only hoomun who hadn't escaped The Owner into a strange jacket with buckles over the end of the sleeves and bundled him in the back of the van. The Owner then went inside and drew another box on the bottom of his voting paper and wrote none of the above in it and put a big black cross beside it. He kept chuckling to himself all the way home and is currently sat in his chair on the patio chuckling to himself with a strange satisfied grin on his face. I am going indoors out of the way, just in case.

No Morsels for Jack!!!

The Owner has spent the day in Swindon, which was one step beyond where I was prepared to go, obviously! The Owner thought so too, judging by the state he has come home in. So he has cut some bread and butter, some cheese and some grapes plus the ubiquitous glass of wine. I sat there wishing his hand would drop off as he seemed unable to grasp the concept of passing an odd morsel in my direction. So far there hasn't been any come my way, but then neither has his arm dropped off y