My Hair in His Phone

The thunderclap hasn't happened yet, but I think I am in trouble....twice! This afternoon The Owner was talking on his phone, when it stopped working. I don't do phones as they seem to be just trouble as far as I can see, judging by the way The Owner shouts at it or about it. But I could tell trouble was brewing when it stopped working. There was much angst as he tried in vain to get the recalcitrant device to show any signs of life. He gave up in the end and we came home. He then tried plugging it in to the charger unit as he told no one who cared that it may have a flat battery. Still no signs of life. Next step was to pull the cover off and explore its insides and I knew that this was going to end in trouble, so I chose that moment to go up the garden. When I came back The Owner called me, so I came bounding in in the hope of a Bonio. He had that strange expression on his face as he held his phone aloft and extracted much of my hair from within his phone in a very exaggerated fashion. He also pulled out what he told me was a SIM card and put it on the small table along with his battery..... and my hair. I naturally had to investigate a little with a quick sniff of the table. A short while later The Owner is getting a little frantic as he doesn't seem able to locate the SIM card which seemed to be important somehow. I joined in his search a little to try and locate the missing SIM card. It was at this point that he started staring at me and appeared to be laughing. It would appear the errant SIM card had become stuck to my nose and I have absolutely no idea how. Unusually I was not in immediate trouble but I feel sure it will come. Oh yes, and the phone, minus my hair, is now working and trilling every few minutes as normal again. I think I shall give the badger poo a miss tonight. Don't want to antagonise him further.

The Owners Broken Bed

What a day I have had already, and I am now not talking to The Owner. Well until teatime obviously! On Friday he left me on my own ALL DAY until the wee small hours when he came crashing through the back door full of Bon Homme expecting me to be pleased to see him. Well I was sound asleep behind the door at the time and I had just got to the bit in my dream where I am galloping through a field full of badger poo being chased by a dozen Lady Chocolate Labradors who just want me for my undoubted good looks and very obvious breeding, when the back door made heavy contact with my nose as The Owner returned. I did forgive this little faux pas on the part of The Owner because he then fed me, but last night I could quite happily have given him a quick nip on the fetlocks. He sat during last evening slurping loudly on what he described as "a fine and warming winter red" which looked to me to have come from exactly the same bottle as the one he has been slurping loudly throughout the summer too. But what do I know? I'm a K9... He took himself off to bed as normal last night and then about half past two the inevitable grumblings from up stairs start. Why he doesn't just give in to it and come downstairs and have his wee escapes me. But we have to go in for this half an hour of pointless resistance until his bladder, stretched to bursting point, forces him to jump out of bed and rush down the stairs with the greatest sense of urgency, casting aside anything which happened to be not in his way. As the grumbling reached its customary crescendo upstairs I hear him throw back the duvet and launch himself out of bed. Followed immediately by a bang so loud that I thought he had circumvented the normal rush down the stairs by coming straight through the ceiling! Whilst he was "performing" I took the liberty of wandering upstairs to investigate, only to find that his bed had collapsed and now resembled a heap of firewood with a mattress on top. I was not about to risk any blame coming my way and went downstairs again quickly and hid. So at three in the morning he wanders in from the shed, wearing just his socks, armed with hammers, tubes of glue and electric screwdrivers. There then followed half an hours frantic DIY activity upstairs, with lots of banging and screwing. By half past three he was back downstairs with a triumphant smile on his face but his fingers were stuck together. He felt he was incapable of sleep after so much activity, so I had to stay awake too so he could watch the recording of yesterdays qualifying somewhere the other side of Swindon.... followed at six by the F1 race with the very fast and very noisy cars with nowhere for the K9 to sit, as they race all the way back to where they started from. Then we switch over to watch the very fast and noisy motorbikes from somewhere the other side of Swindon do it as well. I can't sleep at all though, as my comfy cushion is in front of the TV speakers. He, on the other hand, can sleep standing up at a U2 concert (and has) and the final straw came when he dropped off to sleep and dropped his mug of tea on my head and then looked at me with that accusing look in his eye as though I am now responsible for the wet patch on the carpet! So until teatime I shall be turning my back on him!

A "Dyson Inch"

We have been working from home today! Which as far as I could tell involved putting up pictures and cleaning, but who am I to argue? I have Bonios!  After lunch a very jolly man from BT came and fixed The Owner's phone for him and I would just like to point out that I had absolutely no hand in breaking it (as far as I am aware). But by this time the damage had been done; The Owner had discovered a new way of mocking me and need I say more than it involves the ruddy Dyson! But not in the usual way of chasing me with it. I mentioned the dreaded "C" word,,,,,,,, cleaning. He was doing his bit flitting around the place with his duster and wearing that ridiculous pinnie with the bra and panties on the front and I am frankly relieved when he has finished his cleaning and takes it off again without having anyone come to the door. But inevitably his activity gets around to the ruddy Dyson, when he noticed something he hadn't noticed before and makes the most of it at my expense. There is now a new unit of measurement he has invented today, known as a "Dyson inch". After chasing round the carpets randomly he notices that the dust is at the bottom of the clear plastic thingy and my hair and other fluffy stuff, being lighter, is now well towards the top. He has reasoned that the dust is down to him and everything else is down to me. So he parades around holding the clear plastic bit of the Dyson like a glass of fine wine studying it and pronounces that there is just the one "Dyson inch" for him and one.... two......three....six "Dyson inches" for me! As if I am meant to feel guilty about it!!!!! Oh how I wish the vicar had called whilst he still had his pinnie on!!

My Weekend

This weekend has been one of great excitement and it's a job to know where to begin to be honest. At the beginning I guess? Saturday morning The Owner came grumbling down the stairs and after a brief shouting match with a recalcitrant toaster we headed for the studio. Nothing unusual so far you will be thinking I am sure. After a brief shouting match with his computer he grabbed some keys I haven't seen before, locked up the studio and and walked to the small car park and opened..... A van!!!!! I like vans for two reasons, 1) I can sit much higher on the seats, to a height befitting my status, and 2) ...... I can lick the windscreen!!!! The Owner had a strange smile across his face as he drove the van down the road, strange in that it doesn't happen so often. He even waved happily at Police Hoomun as we entered Devizes. He doesn't know Police Hoomun, but he waved anyway which caused a certain amount of puzzlement for Police Hoomun who then proceeded to check his buttons and zips just in case. We drove a long way along roads which were vaguely familiar to me, not in the weeing up posts kind of a way, just that I had seen them all before somewhere. After a long while during, which I cleaned most of the windscreen, and the side window (I did try and venture across The Owners side of the van at one point but it seemed less than favourably received and I didn't want to upset his seemingly happy disposition) we arrived at a house that I definitely hadn't seen before at the same time as Owners Biker Sister. You'll be pleased to know that this time she hadn't been eaten by a space alien! Then out of the house came Diesel Dog Daughter, so I wee'd on the plant by the front door which didn't seem to go down so well either. Further investigation revealed no evidence of Diesel Dog, so at least there would be no demented badger running, but it also revealed no evidence of anything at all. The house was empty!! Then there was a great amount of noise outside and a motorbike arrived with a different space alien on it. I have had some experience of these space aliens before and was a little less shocked when it took off its head, only this one appeared to have eaten Small Boy! 

It was all getting very disturbing to be honest so I went and sat in the corner and just watched. After their tea, during which I did not get even a sniff of any hoomun biscuit and they said it was for my own benefit (I think I should be the judge of that) they rushed around and got me very excited and then opened the back door. Well what do you do when you get all excited and someone opens the back door? You rush outside, that's what! I was duped I was! No sooner had I rushed outside in great excitement, than I heard the door close again behind me! Only no one was out there being excited with me! Duped I was !!!! After what seemed an age I was let back in again. I refused at first, in protest at being duped, but then someone mentioned a Bonio so they were all forgiven, obviously. When I returned inside, the previously empty house was now full of stuff and boxes which I was tempted to wee on but resisted. The Owner could see my confusion so offered some explanation by suggesting there had been a big beam of white light and all this stuff just appeared. He laughed very loudly at this but no one else did, so it was clearly one of his jokes again and I should really stop watching for further beams of white light full of boxes. 

There suddenly seemed to be great excitement outside and the door flew open as Diesel Dog launched himself through the door in a frenzy of demented badger running. He was on a lead, which seemed to be attached to an outstretched arm. The outstretched arm was in turn attached to an outstretched Diesel Dog Daughter who seemed to be joining in his demented badger running round and around the house, until The Owner rescued her and detached the lead from her arm and she sat down looking exhausted, with some cake this time. You will note that I still wasn't allowed any. Owners Biker Sister also wandered in with a soft toy under her arm, (one of those furry things with a squeaker inside it I thought) and put it on the carpet. I made note of it for future fun and play..... until it grew legs and started running around on its own! I have now met Nordstrom K9! It had far too much on its mind for my liking and I felt sure my ears were designed to help me hear. But I realise now they were intended only for Nordstrom to hang from! I can't quite manage mirrors but I feel sure if I could I would see in one properly I would now have a few rows of teeth marks in them that are strangely Nordstrom shaped. The van is such a peaceful place..... and free of Nordstrom and Diesel Dog as it happens, who was still running from room to room like a demented badger when we left some time later.

My Negative Opinion of Mouse

I have just developed a very negative opinion of Mouse! When The Owner has his tea, I get A BONIO! And a few Markies, but it's the Bonio that is important! We also have this game He likes to play where He throws a biscuit and then I have to sit and dribble a lot whilst I await the clearance to go and jump on the biscuit. Well, He throws the biscuit and I start the routine and give it my full attention.... And a lot of dribble. I only turned away for a moment, just to get a better look at Him and when I turned back Mouse was disappearing through the gap under the back door with MY BONIO!!! I will be going for a lie down in the old pig sty if any one wants me!

I Like Sundays

I like Sundays! Been on patrol with The Owner, found something vaguely organic to roll in, been chased with the hose pipe. Now I have to work on my relationship with my comfy cushion whilst trying not to relive my experiences of the day so vividly in my dreams that I start twitching violently and incur the mocking attentions of The Owner. I do like Sundays.

Having an Inspeckshun

Yesterday we had an inspeckshun at the new cottage! I have never had one of them before and was a little unsure of what to expect from it. We have now had the inspeckshun and to be honest I am still a little less than clear on what one of them is. For two days beforehand he has been plaguing me with that ruddy Dyson and a selection of buckets and mops. If it was shiny it has been mopped and if it was anything else then it was Dysonned. You can see my dilemma having both a a shiny nose and furry undercarriage but I managed to survive most of it. By teatime on the night before our inspeckshun even I could see the benefits of his efforts as the cottage and garden looked very nice and he flopped down on the settee with a glass of wine in one hand (and nothing in the other to be honest but I felt I ought to clarify that). One glass drank, he now has a bottle in the other hand and so another glass is poured and he was sat there eyeing up the remainder of the bottle when the boiler made its opinions known and started making some very strange noises. The Owner tried to ignore it but its opinions became louder and it started to make some very strange smells. The Owner went into the kitchen to investigate. Well I wasn't! I have never seen a boiler get into a paddy over anything and I was not sure what to expect. There was much swearing coming from the kitchen so I ventured to poke my nose around the corner and was somewhat alarmed to note that the boiler was wheezing black smoke and soot from every crack and fissure. The Owner went outside and spent a while looking up at the chimney which is where a lot of black snow seemed to be falling from. The evening was not going well! 

He tried to ignore it and concentrate on the matter in hand, his wine glass, but gave that up when his eyes were streaming so badly from the fumes that he looked like he had just watched an episode of DIY SOS. He gave in and turned the boiler off and in the morning Plumber Hoomun was summoned to give the boiler a stiff talking to. Plumber Hoomun brought in his vacuum cleaner which was not a ruddy Dyson, but he affectionately referred to it as Henry. So they must be friends (I thought). It got worse! Henry was about to be written off Plumber Hoomuns (and The Owners) Christmas card list as he burst his bag and sent clouds of black soot into the air only to settle on the kitchen floor, work surfaces and anything else which had a upward facing surface including me! With the air thick with soot, dust and profanities, there was a knock at the door and Inspeckshun Agent Hoomun turned up. The Owners day was going from bad to worse and although it was raining at the time he wandered off up the garden and sat under the tree on his bench with a mug of tea and left Inspeckshun Agent Hoomun and Plumber Hoomun to argue about the dust and soot in the new cottage. I did look through the door but the argument was still raging inside so I opted for the safer option and went and sat beside him in the garden. He was feeling a little subdued that afternoon which was ok as I did get an extra Bonio out of it, so the day turned out ok in the end. But I think I am in no particular hurry to understand inspeckshuns further!