The Monster from the Depths of The Pond

This evening I am at something of a loss to understand The Owners behaviour. Although I do understand what he did is normal hoomun behaviour for so many. However I am not too sure about the damp patch that he is leaving everywhere he sits and I would just like to point out that I was in no way responsible for these damp patches. The observant among you will have noticed that yesterday was a little.... well..... inclement I think about sums it up. This inclementness (and the spell check doesn't like that word but it seems like it ought to be a word to me in these circumstances) deposited a great deal of water in the pond. In fact it was right up to the road again when we came home this evening. It was also getting very gusty and these gusts were having a profound affect upon my bottom. Gusts of wind upon a K9 bottom are not to recommended when it is this cold. So anyway, The Owner approached the side of the pond where the water comes up to the wall and is about three feet deep and as most hoomuns seem to do, he had to walk right up to the edge. That was where his day took a turn for the worse. There was a gust of wind approaching at a great rate and it was a very strong gust which was a little more than I could realistically enjoy when it set about my bottom and tail. However, as the gust passed I turned to see whether The Owner had finished with his activities standing on the side of the pond, except he wasn't there!! He was gone!!! It was then that a monster emerged from the depths of the pond which immediately started grumbling... loudly. It was clearly The Owner! I am guessing that he didn't enjoy the attentions of the gust of wind upon his bottom either. To be honest wind and his bottom are frequently uttered in the same sentence. Although why he felt it necessary to throw himself in the pond in that manner I am at a loss to explain. If The Owner has got cold and wet and can find no one to blame for his predicament it is going to be a dangerous place to be around here this evening so I may go and find my duvet early. Just in case.

The Wheelie Bin Attacks!!

The Owner did not have the best start to the day a couple of days ago and please do forgive my apparent tardiness in reporting the matter. Truth be known I have kept away from the laptop for a bit since The Owner decided to use the ruddy Dyson to vacuum the keyboard for dust. It would appear that there was a vast quantity of my discarded hairs below the keyboard and the Dyson had only half done the job and the keyboard now had the appearance of an alphabet with alopecia with tufts of hair sticking out from behind every letter. Except “Q” obviously. He spent hours, and made a great deal of the whole matter, pulling hair out of the keys. So I thought it best to keep out of his way for a day or two and not draw too much attention to myself. 

Sorry, I digress, The Owner. We had a particularly wet and windy day here the other day and The Owner was more than a tad grumpy when we left the cottage about the leaking gutter above the door unloading several gallons of water down his neck as soon as he opened the door and stepped out. I had worked out already that it would be prudent to walk several yards behind him down to the road. I have to admit that out of the shelter of the cottage and the hedge i was not particularly enjoying the effects of the wind and rain upon my bottom. Things are not meant to sting certain parts of a K9 and it was stinging them quite a lot to be honest. We got to the gate just as a particularly strong gust of wind shook the hedge to its roots as The Owner stepped through. Like something out of one of those films he likes to watch with high body counts he was immediately and cruelly mown down.... by a green wheelie bin! He tried valiantly to wrestle himself away from its demonic clutches but it was not letting go for love nor money and took The Owner with it as it made a bid to dive into the stream. At the last minute he deftly flicked it and got on top of it as it splashed into the stream. Feeling a little pleased with his efforts (and I have to say I was also suitably impressed) he clambered back up on to the side of the stream nearest the road. He was still on all fours when the milk tanker drove through at great pace! When I say drove through, I really mean drove through the puddle that was now part of the pond, the road and the ditch the other side of the road too. The Owner enjoyed the briefest of moments when he felt a victory over fate by keeping out of the stream only to have it ripped away from him as he got covered in a tsunami of water from the milk tanker.

 This morning the weather is very wet and very windy again and he is taking no chances. Just before it was time to leave for the studio I found him rummaging around at the back of the cupboard under stairs only to emerge a short while after with a victorious expression on his face saying “This should do the trick” he said as he emerged from the back of the cupboard with his very expensive sailing gear. How do I know it was expensive? Well he has been telling everyone all day just how expensive it is. This’ll keep out the worst that tanker driver can throw t us.” I’m sorry, where does the “us” come from?? Where do I feature in his plan for dryness?? I will just have to get wet the same as the rest of the time I suspect. Although it has now stopped raining and we saw no traffic (or wheelie bins) and the sun has come out too. At the pub tonight, after a day of breezy sunshine, he is going to have to explain exactly why he is looking like an extra from “The Perfect Storm”. This I have to see!!

The Bean Bags Arrived

Well what a fun weekend we have had! And The Owner is still clearing it up and I suspect he will be for some time to come to be honest. And for once, you will be pleased to hear (well, I was anyway) that there is no way that even in the Owners slightly twisted version of reality, I can be held accountable for what happened.

On Saturday two large boxes arrived with Parcel Force Hoomun which seemed to inspire a great deal of unrest in The Owner. The kind of unrest which implies that there are things inside these boxes which require assembly and he hasn't got the necessary tools, or batteries, or help. After an age of fidgeting and general restlessness he opened the boxes and from inside one emerged a big leather bag. A really big leather bag! And from the other a really big plastic sack full of little white polystyrene bits. Together they made The Owners new super super king sized bean bag! There then followed a pathetic wander up and down through the village as The Owner went in search of help to put the polystyrene bubbles into the leather bag. It is amazing how many people in one village are just leaving to go shopping, or about to leave to go and see an ageing aunt or just wouldn't open the door. One was brave enough to offer help the following day, although I suspect it was more out of a certain knowledge that The Owner would never be able to wait that long and would probably have found a way before then. So we wandered back home again with The Owner muttering to himself. After a cup of coffee and a doughnut the frustration became too much and he had to have a go. Now I have looked on Youtube and there are little videos on how to do this and it all looks very simple and stress free when there are two of you. But The Owner won't look for these videos until after he is completely in a mess. First mistake! Do not kneel on the plastic bag with the polystyrene bubbles in. They burst! Second mistake. Do not try and scoop them out of the plastic bag and tip them into the leather bag with your hand. They don't all get into the leather bag as you would have hoped. After half an hour the living room looked like a snow scene in Harrods Christmas shop window and his new bean bag looks remarkably devoid of "beans". Whilst he was outside seeking inspiration from his tool shed I made the most of what was presented to me and did a small amount of demented badger running round and around the living room. But by the time he returned all the polystyrene bubbles had landed on the carpet again so he was none the wiser of my little burst of activity so all was well.

He is now on the phone to Bean Bag Supplier Hoomun trying to convince him that the bag of "beans" was not filled with as many as he had been led to believe from the pictures. However I suspect that Bean Bag Supplier Hoomun has heard that one a few times before and was having none of it. I get the feeling that the ruddy Dyson will get dragged from its lair and put to good use in rounding up the errant bubbles. It could be a long day yet!

Devil Dog Eyes

Yesterday The Owner borrowed a posh car. I have no idea whose car it was but it was a very posh one. When he opened the back door to let me in to it he was waving a very cautionary finger at me saying "Now YOU had better behave yourself in there!" in tones that gave you the feeling that it would be a very foolish K9 indeed who did anything experimental in it. Then came the list; "No burping, farting, following through, weeing, dropping hair or licking windows! Ok?!?!?" Well there was more to the list to be honest but I stopped listening at that point. It ended only when he ran out of breath and then took in a sharp intake of breath and finished with "And breathing on the windows!". Well what was left to do??? I sat down very carefully on the shiny leather seats as I tried to memorise the list as we started our journey. Well I kept perfectly still trying not to do anything that I had been warned about as we drove up through the village and The Owner did his best to make sure that as many people as possible saw him driving this very posh car. I also noticed that this very posh car was also very quick and liked to let everyone know about it too! When we got to the bend at the far end of the village The Owner threw this very posh car round the corner with a deft flick of the steering wheel. Well I did check but I am glad to report that leaving claw marks right across the leather seats was not in the list of things I was not allowed to do. Although I am suspecting that may just have been an omission on The Owners part as when we got to the end of our journey, which was at Diesel Dog Daughter's house, and The Owner opened the door to let me out, he did groan rather a lot. Well I am not the one who was throwing this very posh car around like one of the very fast and very noisy cars that race right back the where they started from. Only we didn't, obviously, as we were at Diesel Dog Daughters now so we had got somewhere. With the front door opened just a crack a blur of brown fur shot through to commence the usual round of demented badger running until The Owner and Diesel Dog Daughter managed to corral Diesel Dog and usher him into the back garden. Diesel Dog Daughter has bought herself a rabbit it would seem, which I noticed straight away. I thought it was nice of her as it can sometimes get a bit boring bringing back the same green canvas dummy throw. It will be nice to have a bit of live stuff to retrieve I thought. Well, we didn't get that far! Rabbit moved in his hutch! Diesel Dog was spooked! And shot back indoors at an alarming pace! Well I think the door frame may be needing some of The Owners special duct tape soon. I wandered back in through the open back door, mainly because it is now incapable of closing again after Diesel Dog went through it, and found Diesel Dog hiding behind the Christmas Tree. There was something very strange about his eyes for the rest of the evening as he peered out from behind the tree checking that the big nasty rabbit wasn't coming to get him. Today The Owner is outside with a tin of shoe polish trying to get the claw marks out of the leather seats only by now he has had time to forget that it was his fault for throwing the car around a bit too much last night and he is now frowning in my direction very loudly. I think I may have a chomp on some of the biscuits that were left in doors for me over night last night instead. Just until he has forgotten about the claw marks or he has remembered who caused them. Whichever comes the soonest.

The Pond is Full!!

Those of a UK West Country disposition may have noticed that yesterday was a trifle inclement. So inclement in fact, that the stream was running well, Dingly Dell was awash and the pond was full too! For that matter, the road had also become part of the pond, the ditches and the stream too! So inclement was it that a quick dash out to the mail box on the wall by the front door to retrieve letters caused a great deal of grumbling from The Owner, to about 7 on the Richter scale.... and a change of clothes. The Owner spent much of the morning looking out of the window at the gloomy scene and sighing a lot. Such was the nature of our morning here at the cottage. After a copious lunch for The Owner of several rounds of sandwiches containing, variously, ham, chicken, bacon and cheese, justified as "using up all the odds and ends" with just the one cherry tomato as a nod towards healthy living, Owners Mate Hoomun arrived. Had I mentioned that although The Owner enjoyed a feast worthy of a Tudor King in the name of using up the odds and ends, I had just the one broken Bonio and a half chewed Markie that Mouse had missed?

After much discussion between The Owner and Owner's Mate Hoomun, The Owner announced that "We'd better let Jack out to do what's good for him before we let him in your car!" I wasn't sure I liked the inferences there! Nevertheless, off I went trying my best to avoid raindrops and puddles to do "What's best for me!", It was then I happened to notice that Dingly Dell was flowing nicely, so I chose to follow it and see where it went. Purely to understand better local topography and hydrology, you understand. It was then that I discovered exactly how full the pond was.After a while of splashing around in the pond, investigating, The Owner discovered exactly where I had gone. How do hoomuns just KNOW these things????

I also discovered the true correlation between between being up to your neck in trouble and up to your neck in the pond and it was not pleasant I have to report!

The Owner then found every reason imaginable why I would not be allowed to get in  Owners Mates car and quite a few you couldn't imagine too! So I was banished from Owner's Mate's car and left at home in the cottage whilst they went shopping. He seems to have drawn some ill conceived conclusions too by connecting the soggy cushions on his sofa and my apparent dryness when they returned. Hoomuns! Pah!

Digging Up His Old Potatoes

Yesterday evening was a bit stormy here as we walked home. There were little rivers of water running past the studio door when we left. It was dark already and I sometimes wonder about The Owner... well ok, so I, along with half the population of Wiltshire wonder about The Owner (the other half have clearly not met him yet). He turned off the heating in the studio and then the lighting and THEN fumbles for his keys. Then came the start of a downward spiral of the journey home, first foot out of the door went straight into the river running past. There was much mumbling about wet feet and stuff as we started our journey home. I swear that on such journeys he closes his eyes or switches them off or something. Can hoomuns switch their eyes off? As we neared the edge of the road at the end of the farm track, a journey of all of ten yards, he encountered the first obstacle. The farm wheelie bin had taken to laying on its side across the track, either that or it was blown over by the wind. The Owner clearly still had his eyes switched off as he fell straight over the top of it! A sorry picture he made, sat in the middle of the track with the little river running either side of him and the lid on the wheelie bin at such an angle I felt sure it was laughing at him.. The journey home was little better with two cars driving through the puddle right in front of him. I don't mind them doing it to him but they got to me too and I was beginning to have a certain amount of sympathy with him to be honest. I kept a respectful distance until we got to our front gate when I decided a quick hop across the ditch, up the side of the hedge and a nimble jump across the stream and onto the lawn would be best. Well, as we approached the gate I noticed that the four wheelie bins from the cottage and our neighbours had also had a bit of a falling out with the wind, or perhaps just fell over. Which The Owner did too because he still had his eyes turned off. By the time The Owner had extricated himself from the tangle of bins by the gate I was already sat by the back door with the security light on for him. He arrived with water running from his trouser pockets, his Barbour jacket was proving just how waterproof it was by not letting the water, which had got in his pockets whilst he was sat in the puddles, back out. It did escape of course when he stuck his hand in his pockets to look for his keys and his phone. I think I have just invented the theory of displacement. I will spend my evening trying not to do anything to incur the wrath which was undoubtedly building inside him I thought.

By this morning the weather was feeling much better and appeared to be quite chipper. The sun was out and the garden was a scene of devastation. The tins from the recycles box were all across the path and the newspapers were stuck to everything like a coat of paper mache. With some poster paints we could have made a full scale model of the cottage! He was in a right old tizzy about it all and I thought he would cheer him up. But what to do? Then the plan hit upon me! When he went back in for his second cup of tea and presumably to get some more poster paints I went up the garden. I had seen him up there at the weekend burying a load of old potatoes. Now when I manage to bury stuff that I want, I am always so pleased when The Owner digs them up for me. So I dug them all up and took them back to the cottage and left them all by the back door. The Owner will be pleased, I thought. It may cheer him up a little when he comes out of the back out again. 

I think he may be sickening for something, he seemed to frown a great deal when he came out of the back door!

A KFC at The Beach.

Well, what a busy day I have had! Of course The Owner isn't talking to me but that is quite normal. He isn't speaking to Diesel Dog Daughter  either for drying Diesel Dog with  hair dryer after he had a bath. I am undecided at the moment as to whether I am speaking to Diesel Dog for appearing to enjoy the whole bath thing. The Owner was up and dressed remarkably early this morning, for a Saturday and was preparing a bag. Now I like it when he prepares a bag as it means we are going somewhere, and I like going somewhere. Unless it is to the other side of Swindon obviously. Well we started out on our journey and I was hopeful of a windscreen or two to lick and I was resolute that I would ignore The Owner having a bit of a hissy fit and moaning about having to clean them before he takes the car back. After quite a journey and when the only glass which hadn't had the benefits of the attentions of my tongue was The Owners door and his half of the windscreen and his door window, (I had been round the rest and my tongue now does feel a bit funny) we arrived at Diesel Dog Daughters. How did I know it was Diesel Dog Daughters house? Well there was a curtain in the front window which appeared to be having a lot to say about everything and when the front door opened a large brown fur ball came out at great speed and volume. It appeared to have a hoomun arm hanging on to it which after a while appeared to be connected in some way to Diesel  Dog Daughter as the furball careered around the garden doing his very best demented badger running. It was a damp and windy day down there so come lunch time The Owner announced that we were all going to go for a KFC down by the sea. Diesel Dog was starting to quieten down until he heard that  and then commenced phase two of the demented badger running around the living room carpet. The Owner and Diesel Dog Daughter managed to corral Diesel Dog into the car which prompted much further excitement and at least proved one thing, which I thought impossible, can actually be done. Demented Badger Running in the boot of The Owners car by a dog the size of Diesel Dog is possible, although I still am at a loss as to how exactly. So off to the sea we went and by which time the damp had turned to rain. We parked the car outside the KFC shop which prompted more demented badger running in a confined space in the back. Diesel Dog Daughter managed to get The Owner back out of the shop without any arguments with the staff although I could see one brewing when The Owner started to complain about the contents of the box not looking anything like the pictures on the wall and as he was building the pace of his rant Diesel Dog Daughter grabbed the bag quick and swept him out of the door in a manner that he really wasn't aware of what happened until it was all too late and he was outside the door. I got the impression she had done that to him before! 

We arrived at the beach and found an empty carpark with just one other car in it which The Owner immediately started grumbling about. They weren't parked in a proper bay apparently! With the excitement building to a crescendo of cataclysmic proportions in the back the hoomuns opened the doors and let us do our own thing along the small beach and around the car park. Which was predictably at high octane levels. Into the sea, along the beach, roll in the sand, into the sea again, more rolling in the sand. You get the picture. I was getting worn out at just watching him!! The Owner and Diesel Dog Daughter were sat in the dry, stuffing their faces and neglecting to throw any scraps my way.

It was at that point that another car came in to the car park and stopped over the other side of the car park. It was a very posh car which seemed to have a lot of leather inside and kept its lights on all the time so it must have been important. Its two hoomuns got out and left their doors open and went round the back to make some tea on a little stove they had in the back. Diesel Dog took off for the car with the open doors and I followed at a more sedate pace to reflect my obvious breeding. A very wet and sandy GSD made it first and went straight in one door and out the other and was on his way through for the second time when I got there. He went straight out on his second time through, but I, being a bit more canny, sat down on the passenger seat and tried to shake some of the sand and sea water out of my coat and Diesel Dog stopped, briefly, to shake himself a little in the drivers seat before getting out again and wandering off back to The Owner's car. It was at this point that Posh Car Hoomun and Posh Car Lady Hoomun returned with their mugs of hot tea nd they seemed less than pleased to see me to be honest. 

The Owner was summoned and Diesel Dog and Diesel Dog Daughter hid behind his car and appeared to be laughing. The Owner, on the other hand, appeared not to be laughing as he was chastised soundly by Posh Car Hoomun and mumbled something about "I will stop it out of his pocket money." Well I don't get any pocket money!!!!

It was a quiet drive back to Diesel Dog Daughters house broken only by her stifled giggles. Even Diesel Dog seemed to understand the gravitas required for an occasion such as this when Jack Labrador GD (failed) is in the doo doo again. We are home now and I am anticipating a very quiet evening to be honest. But I still don't understand why that was all my fault??