The Lake Full of Gin

Yesterday was a hot day here, a very hot day, and I have to say I did not really enjoy it. This morning was showing all the promise of being just as warm to be honest, as we walked down to the studio. So I found a corner behind the water cooler to settle down, opting to delay any patrol until the cool of the evening. At lunchtime, when the temperatures were at their highest, The Owner suddenly jumped up from his desk in an unfamiliar show of enthusiasm which quite startled me. But it was his next statement which startled me all the more! He said to me "Come on Jack, lets go for a wander down to the lakes. The water is "gin-clear" down there, you'll enjoy that!" I tried to find somewhere to hide to be honest. I have seen what a few glasses of gin can do to The Owner. So a whole lake full of the stuff!!???? I was not about to try any gin in a hurry, so I reluctantly dawdled along behind him, finding anything possible to have a sniff at in the hope he may get his attention diverted to something else. Well I am still a little mystified by his statement, as when he grappled me to the ground and threw me in, I was expecting to come out with my legs going everywhere except where I was instructing them to go. But they seemed remarkably co-operative to me. The water was nice and cool and very clear, so much so that you could see the bottom which unnerved me a little. It was still cool when I got out but I had made the visibility much more tolerable and I found myself unable to see more than a few inches in front of my face. He did get his camera out to take some pictures of me which I was not so happy about. I managed to jump up at him as I exited the lake and.... well..... the camera will dry out eventually I expect, so no need to worry. Me? I just managed to dry off a little by rolling in the dust on the way back. I am hopeful of another patrol down there this evening, but so far he seems a little reluctant. Perhaps he needs the gin instead of me.

Small Boy is Due

This morning we are expecting Small Boy apparently, so I am on guard. Poised, in fact, ready to launch forth in excited greetings. Like a true athlete I am rehearsing it all in my mind.

Three Angry Wasps

After an early return from the studio yesterday The Owner made a cup of tea in his special heat retaining mug, which seems to have a particularly vengeful manner about it and burns The Owners mouth at every opportunity. He wandered off up the garden, wielding a trimming hook in a particularly menacing manner, as he set about the nettle patch which last season had been my favourite sunny patch up behind the Barbie. He did give me one or two strange and accusing looks as he discovered the odd plastic box that I had squirrelled away after The Owner had cooked the chops that were in them and one that still had the chops in when I found it unguarded in the kitchen. Well flavour is flavour and you can’t miss an opportunity can you? Fortunately The Owner didn't connect the row he had with Sainsbugs Delivery Yoof about missing chops in his order with my absence for an hour at the time, and the appearance of that particular piece of packaging now. After an hour or two’s activity amongst the nettles, with scald marks on his lips from the mug and nettle rash on his legs and arms reminiscent of the outbreak of some nasty tropical disease, The Owner made a bee line for the wine cabinet. Wine poured and his comfy chair beckoning, he left me feeling somewhat relieved that he hadn't discovered everything I had hidden behind the Barbie, and what he had discovered I seem to have got away with. After he went indoors I moved some of the remaining bits and pieces that I was responsible for to a safer hiding place, and went in to join him. It is about this time of day that I can sometimes manage to use my will-power, and occasionally some dribble, to make him get me a Bonio from my at-home-Bonio-bucket, which is more colourful than my studio-Bonio-bucket. So I went in and tried my luck. Result! He already had a Bonio waiting for me! So after a quick chomp I laid there drinking in the sense of comradeship of the moment. Suddenly, The Owner starts to fidget, as I could have sworn I heard a buzzing sound! It went quiet again for a moment… then more buzzing. The Owner jumped up and started patting his shirt, which seemed to prompt a more pain filled reaction than was warranted by the pat that he gave himself, and he ripped his shirt off. After much shirt flicking and flacking he threw it across the room, gave it a withering stare and sat down again. I could still hear buzzing so I took myself off to my comfy cushion, you can’t be too careful in these matters! Suddenly he leapt up spilling his wine (which meant it had to be serious) and was patting his trousers frantically and jumping around all over the place. Finally, off came his trousers too! He stood there in the lounge in just his wine soaked boxer shorts with three wasps buzzing angrily around his head seemingly irritated that he had disturbed their slumber in the loose folds of his clothing. In his attempts to avoid their angry attentions he ran twice round the dining room and out through the front door! I was just relieved that the two old ladies who smell of lavender (yuk and double phew) from the other end of the village were not walking past at the time! I wandered outside to see what he was up to and witnessed the sight of him, in his boxers, crashing through the undergrowth at the top of the garden being chased by three slightly irritated wasps. They seemed to be managing quite well and didn't need any input from me so I left them to it. Besides, I happened to notice he hadn't put the lid back on my Bonio bucket properly and when he gets back he may be a little too preoccupied to notice. I may sneak a few behind the fridge for later while I am a it. Never look a gift horse in the mouth I always say.

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.....