The Lab Reports

Coming soon to a letter box near you!!

Nearly finished it!!!!

The Power Shower

Well what a morning we have had at the new cottage! The Owner has been very industrious after a trip to B&Q. I like going to B&Q because there is a burger van there and Burger Van Hoomun always gives me a sausage when The Owner isn't looking. So we have developed a sort of routine, The Owner and I, for the use of, when going to B&Q. We get there and park the car, we both get out. We make our way towards the shop doors, (which I have got a little more used to now and am not quite so disturbed by them opening on their own) and I stop for a wee up one of the big posts at the front designed to stop little old ladies from ram raiding B&Q. Well thats what The Owner says they're for anyway and they must work as I have never seen any old lady, large or small, try and ram raid B&Q! Anyway, if I make a bit of a meal of it and spend ages weeing up the post The Owner loses patience and wanders in on his own and leaves me to follow when I have finished. As soon as he has gone inside I rush across to the burger van and sit and wait until a sausage is launched from the dark recesses from within the burgervan. Sausage chomped, I make my way into the shop to find The Owner. The good thing about this little ruse is that if The Owner is feeling peckish, which he often is, on the way out I get another sausage. But not today, I was barely into the shop when I saw The Owner come struggling up the aisle with a trolley with a very large box on it and loads of interesting looking things that I needed to have a sniff at. He managed to get through the checkouts without a shouting match with Manager Hoomun, mainly because Manager Hoomun went off on an important errand to the other end of the store when he saw The Owner approaching the tills. He was soon heading off across the car park with a certain sense of purpose about him. Back home, these very expensive boxes appear to have come with a free power shower. I don't know for certain what a power shower is but it sounds very important. I never understand why they never give him two allen keys in these boxes, one to drop and lose, and the second to do the job with. In this case it was dropped down the plug hole in the bath. I watched with great intent as things were drilled, screwed cut and cursed at, as the power shower appears to have morphed into a white plastic box on the wall with a slightly lopsided demeanour and a hose coming out of the bottom which appears to have a big kink in it. I was watching this thinking to myself he shouldn't be having a kink in that pipe like that. But what do I know? After coffee (and Bonios, had I mentioned that I like Bonios?) the grand ceremony of the turning back on of the water was carried out. Much to The Owners surprise, and mine, there were no leaks which there would normally be when he starts plumbing jobs. He was feeling very pleased with himself and immediately poured himself a large sherry by way of celebration. Then came the grand switching on ceremony and The Owner reached in and pressed a pad on the shower and stepped back smartly. There were noises from within but I guess he was expecting to see water come from somewhere at this point. Well he wouldn't with a kink in the hose like that would he?? The Owner opted to turn up the water a bit which produced a small trickle from the shower head and even more noises from within the white plastic box on the wall. So the pressure was turned up further. More noises, getting louder, still no water. So he turned the water pressure up full and climbed in to the shower to investigate. Now I am only a K9 (with breeding) but I am thinking that this might not have been his best move so far today. He would have been far better off turning it all off and removing the kink in the hose. But what do I know. With the noises inside the power shower reaching a crescendo there was a very loud bang from the power shower and a little plastic pellet from the pressure relief valve shot out of the bottom of the white plastic box on the wall, hit the bath, then the mirror and then made contact with the back of The Owners head as a great deluge of water followed it and filled up The Owners work boots. Water turned off. we are now on our way back to B&Q to get another power shower and presumably have an argument with Manager Hoomun about "products not fit for purpose" and of course forgetting the kink in the hose. I can't help but wonder if that, coupled with The Owners general ineptitude in matters of plumbing might be a logical answer and not some oversight in the design and manufacture of the product. But I do at least get a second shot at the burger van so I am hopeful of a second sausage.

Posh Lady Client Came.... and Went

I have kept a very low profile ever since the whole fish flavoured olive oil incident. I thought it for the best. You may recall The Owner went out for the day and left me behind, and he smelled funny. In the meantime I had found somewhere to roll, on the ground where he normally keeps his recycling tins and there appeared to be a contaminant in the shape of fishy flavoured olive oil which I did not enjoy and even a roll in badger poo did nothing to reduce the effect. A snooze on the sofa that I am not allowed on did little to make me feel better either. Right that brings you up to date. 

We have two living rooms, one is upstairs, and this has bean bags which I am not allowed on either but I can report that they are very comfortable. So I reasoned that he would never know if I had a quick snooze up there. This fish flavoured olive oil was really becoming a problem for me and I found that the bean bag did little to relieve the effects. What I needed was a blanket, that may help a little, or........ a duvet!!!! That would do it! And his bedroom door is open!!! He will never know, I thought. It worked! I felt much better and returned downstairs for a proper snooze feeling very much better.

It was getting dark and cold in the cottage when I heard the heating come on and then a familiar sound as I hear The Owner come wandering up the side path. But I can also hear another voice too, it is Posh Lady Client Hoomun! So that's where he has been all day! If I am lucky she may have forgotten the whole silage liquor thing and give me a Bonio. She laughs like a donkey I think, smells a bit like one too. So The Owner breezes through the back door with hardly a word in my direction even though I was doing my best ever "pleased to see you home" bounce. He casually threw some of my food in my dish, grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine which as far as I can tell was one of his expensive ones that he normally shows everyone before opening the cheap stuff to give to them and then disappeared upstairs with Posh Lady Client Hoomun. Why am I getting this feeling of foreboding? I hid! There was much guffawing up there from The Owner, and donkey laughter from Posh Lady Client Hoomun and then I heard the bedroom door open (I only need a crack in the door to get through, hoomuns need much more width). The laughter and braying continued for a few seconds before there was silence. It lasted for a few more seconds although it seemed much longer, when in unison I heard The Owner roar and Posh Lady Client Hoomun scream. Hmmm, they found out I had been on the bed then! Posh Lady Client stomped out of the bedroom and I heard her flop on the bean bag. A short silence and then more screaming. I was hiding behind the sofa when they came back down the stairs like a herd of cows in the dairy yard all squabbling and pushing to get into the milking parlour first. She flopped down on the sofa whilst she dragged he coat on and then jumped up quick and looked at the sofa, strangely close to where I had spent most of the day. I am getting the vibe here that hoomuns don't enjoy fishy flavoured olive oil either. Posh Lady Client Hoomun saw me peeking out from behind the sofa and called me "A beastly dog!" before running out of the cottage with The Owner hot on her heals in the closest thing I have ever heard from him to an apology. He returned alone a few minutes later, looking disconsolate. 

From the look on his face as he set about scrubbing the furniture and changing the beds I get the feeling we may not be seeing Posh Lady Client Hoomun here for a while. Well I didn't like the way she laughed anyway. But I did think it best to stay out of the way for a while.

Fishy Flavoured Olive Oil

Does anyone have any magic remedies for removing vegetable oil from K9 fur? I have a small problem and I don't think I am going to get much help in this department from him indoors. When he gets back. He went off earlier this morning dressed up in his suit, smelling funny and at great pains to keep me away from his suit which has just returned from the cleaners after my last attempts at accessorising it with the odd bit of dribble and dogs hair. He was also singing a lot which is always worrying. Yesterday was recycling day and there were loads of black boxes outside of gates up and down the village and to be honest I nearly ran out of wee! But not quite, so all worked out well. Everybody has black boxes with lids, except The Owner, who does have a black box, but also a green box with holes in the bottom to let water and other extraneous substances run through. Now his green box is what he keeps all his tins in. Tins, unless properly cleaned, dribble all kinds of things and as The Owner can be a little lacking in such matters from time to time, these all kinds of things tend to dribble out of the holes in the bottom of his green box. Come recycling day the area of grass where the green box is kept is always worth having a bit of a sniff and a lick. As normal, last night the green box was left down by the gate and not retrieved and put back where it belongs. This is normal and he waits until I have wee'd up it a few times or until someone in the village frowns very loudly at him. So today I have been left unsupervised whilst he has gone swanning off to heaven knows where so after I had enjoyed a good sniff and a lick at the grass where the green box is kept a brainwave hit me! Maybe I could roll in it too!!!!! So I did. Rolling in fishy olive oil is not to be recommended (unless you are a fish getting into a tin I suppose), it clogs the fur terribly and even a roll in a good dollop of badger poo hasn't got rid of the smell or the sensation of fishy flavoured olive oil. I clambered up on the sofa that I am not allowed on and tried to rub it all off on there but it is no better. I may try his bed later if I can get no relief from it all. I wonder where he has gone?

The Silage Clamp

The Owner's not speaking to me this morning but that is normal, neither is Posh Lady Client Hoomun which is a shame coz she normally gives me a Bonio. Had I mentioned that I am partial to the odd Bonio? Makes no difference really as I fear it may be a while before he forgets about this one. 

It is Sunday morning here and this is a good excuse to get out and about early in case he feels inspired to throw me in the bath when he has finished with it. He was also very busy around the cottage quite early, tidying and dusting, and that was another reason to go off on an early patrol because what follows tidying and dusting? Yes, the ruddy Dyson is dragged out of its lair. So I chased around the fields and found loads of things to sniff and loads of things to wee up or over. I was running a bit short in the wee department so made my way towards the farm to take on more water to finish the job before heading back to the cottage to see how The Owner was getting on. That was when I found it. Well really it found me to be honest. There was a thin crust of ice across a large puddle round the back of the silage clamp and I thought I would just run straight across. Even if the ice wouldn't hold me it wouldn't be deep enough to worry me. Well it didn't hold me and it was deep enough to worry me and it wasn't water! It was belly deep (that is a K9 unit of measurement) in silage liquor! Now this stuff is quite pungent to be fair but I am not averse to such things and decided to give it a try. Shoulder down.... going well...... and...... ROLL! Yay!!!! I must go and show The Owner this one! Off I went at a gallop back to the cottage. When I got there The Owner was slurping politely at his coffee with Posh Lady Client Hoomun and discussing "things" in an unusually polite manner for him. That did seem to change quite rapidly as he reverted to type and started using words I pretend not to understand and holding his nose a lot. Posh Lady Client Hoomun also started using some very similar words which surprised me a little as she always seemed very polite to me. She usually makes a big thing about giving me a Bonio but I got the distinct vibe I wasn't going to getting one today as I tried to get on to the settee in my excitement. The Owner dragged me off in a very undignified manner and put me in the shed to await my fate whilst he went back into the cottage to deal with Posh Lady Client Hoomun. He offered her a sponge and a bowl of warm water to "get rid of the worst of it" although I preferred to think of it as the best of it. How come she gets a sponge and warm water when all I get is a hose pipe and a yard broom?? 

Well, that was an hour ago now and I have just been hosed and yard broomed. The Owner has tried to clear up what he called "Your Mess!" Actually he used another of those, no, several of those words that I pretend not to understand when saying that. However I think the cottage smells rather nice now. The Owner, on the other hand, seems to still think otherwise. I am not sure why Posh Lady Client Hoomun left without giving me a Bonio but I get the feeling it will be a while before she gives me another.

The Owner has been Christmas Shopping

Earlier today one of The Owners clients turned up and they sat and discussed "things", which always sounds terribly important if you ask The Owner, but seemed to revolve around an MP3 player in a very uncooperative frame of mind. At one point the signs were looking about right for there to appear one more bit of The Owners discarded electronic equipment at the bottom of the pond. The pile in there is growing a lot of late with phones, remote controls, cameras, although there isn't any MP3 players in there at the moment. Crisis averted when it started to co-operate more, I was given a Bonio, as if in celebration. Then Owners Client Hoomun asked The Owner if she could take me for a walk. I think mainly so she didn't have to witness the demise of her MP3 player if it had another attack of the vapours and really did finish up in the pond! Now, I like going for walks with Owners Client Hoomun as I can get away with so much more on walks with her than I can with The Owner. And today was no exception! We found the pond up on the hill! The one The Owner goes to great lengths to keep me from getting in. The one with all the trees hanging over it. The one which is quite full of dead leaves and water. The one where the leaves are all rotten and decayed from many years past. The one that has about two feet of thick black sludge in the bottom. That one. Well I couldn't hear her calling me out! The wind was very noisy up there and the colour in her cheeks from all the shouting made her look much healthier I thought, so I was really doing her a favour. When we got back to the studio The Owner seemed a little less than enthusiastic with my efforts and promptly introduced me to the hosepipe again and was far too rough with the yard broom for my liking. He went off shopping soon after smelling far worse of pond mud than I thought I ever did. When he returned he was smirking in a particularly mischievous manner and then produced what he described as a very fitting hat for me. Well I didn't think it fitted at all well! And why did he find it so funny when he put it on me?

The Locksmith

This week I have learned about something new. This week I have learned about "Karma". Last night The Owner left me in a cold cottage and closed the door and left me indoors with no fire. Absolutely no fire at all! Just like to make that point. He then made much over his Inspector Poirrot style incisiveness when he caught me trying to get on to the sofa that I am not allowed on. Well this evening I have tried to keep my head down as much as possible and not attract further his ire which has meant laying at the end of the sofa, which is no hardship as it happens, as it is also beside the radiator. Although old skinflint won't let the heating stay on after half past seven there are still the last vestiges of heat to be got from it until nearly half past eight. Well this evening he has lit the fire, unlike last night, and at half past eight he stoked up and put on the last of his logs that he had in the basket. He said to no-one in particular, "I'd better get some more in before it gets really cold out there". So wearing just his trousers and a thin t shirt he leaps with great enthusiasm out of the back door trying not to get his bare feet cold on the concrete path and pulled the door closed behind him. Now I'm guessing he didn't want to do that. The look on his face was quite a picture..... through the glass.... from the inside... He spent the next half an hour waving through the cat flap trying to get me to bring him the keys. Well I'm a K9... that is a cat flap....I don't do cat flaps. He is now waiting out in the cold for the locksmith to arrive. I hope he gets here within the next hour or so or I might begin to feel the cold as the fire starts to die down. I think I may get on the sofa that I am not allowed on as well whilst I have the chance.