Superdad to the Rescue!

Yesterday we had a very busy day and not all the trouble was mine you will be so pleased to know. Yesterday we had lots of visiting hoomuns on the farm, all walking around eating Cornish pasties. I am not understanding why they aren't called Wiltshire pasties because Lady Dairy Hoomun made them as far as I can tell. One of the visiting hoomuns came on a motorbike and The Owner stood in the doorway looking on at the motorbike in a very appreciative fashion. I was fearful that he was going to go and talk to this motorbike hoomun in an attempt at hoomun bonding by regaling him with all his motorbike stories about all the motorbikes he has never had. Fortunately motorbike hoomun jumped off his bike and scurried round to the loo. I did venture in to the loo once and have never been allowed back in. Well if he had refilled my water bowl when I asked I wouldn't have needed to look for an alternative would I? Anyway, the morning descended into the normal monotony as he bashed away on the keyboard as I tried hard to snooze under his desk. Sometimes it can require great concentration to snooze under there when he is at his most animated! Coffee was a little later than usual so when he got up and picked up his mug to go and make it I was feeling the urge, so I did my little dance by the door to go out. He threw the door open for me as he walked past and I shot out. I hadn't quite realised how urgent it was becoming until then, so I rushed to the closest thing I could find that gave me enough elevation to be useful for weeing up. I was just getting to that 'aaaaaahhhhh' moment in mid flow. You know, the point where the pressure has lifted enough to no longer be painful, when The Owner appeared at the studio door and seemed to be quite agitated about something. It would seem that the black thing in the yard that I was using for my relief was in fact Motorbike Hoomuns helmet and apparently not for weeing on. I scuttled off and sat in the old pig sty where I could see the motorbike but was not immediately visible from it. Motorbike Hoomun returned and picked up his helmet, so I sunk a little lower in the straw, he put it on, I sunk lower. He took it off again... lower still...and looked at his helmet.... I can't get any lower, but I'll try. He took one of those girly wet-wipes out of his pocket and wiped his helmet over as he scanned the horizon for the culprit. The Owner was busying himself at drawers that he hasn't opened in years, so he could have his back to Motorbike Hoomun I suspect. Fortunately he didn't see me and even in his more argumentative moments I suspect that this was going to be one argument that The Owner wouldn't have won. 

Then, yesterday tea time Owners Daughter turned up. To see me obviously! Do you know why I like it when Owners Daughter turns up? We go in her car to a pub, that's why!! Cars are my favourite and pubs are even more my favouritest thing to visit. So she went to her car and opened the door. Well I could scarcely contain my excitement and leapt straight in. She wasn't impressed with my muddy pawprints on the seat... and said so.... loudly. So I jumped nimbly over the back.... hmm....the back seat was full of paintings. This was not going well! I think The Owner can repair most of them with some of his special duct tape. Seating arrangements formalised, she went to turn her car around. Now from where I was sitting the view was not all that clear, although I couldn't help but wonder if we were going just a little too close to the edge of the ditch..... yes, yes we were going too close to the edge! Everything came to a grinding halt followed by her favourite word. "Oops!" The Owner jumped out and took control and deftly removed her car from the ditch and spent the rest of the evening referring to himself as 'Superdad'. Much to the irritation of everyone in the pub as he told them all for the third or fourth time how he had saved the world from nuclear Armageddon at the very least. Today he is looking through the back of the wardrobe for something he can turn into a cape. I am just grateful he hasn't felt inspired to complete the outfit with a pair of tights with his underpants on the outside. I don't believe he has any of them without holes in so it is for the best I think.

My Visit to An Archaeology Dig

The Owner has developed a keen interest (as he tells everyone who is daft enough to listen) in archaeology. I have no real understanding of what archaeology is except that lots of strange hoomuns rush around in fields digging holes and unearthing things that someone else had broken and thrown away many years ago. They then rush around and get very excited and put the bits of rubbish in plastic bags and take them off somewhere. I assume they must be taking them to the recycling centre and disposing of them properly. This is what The Owner says he does with his stuff when anyone can hear him talking as he says it is his civic duty. I know that he often digs a hole and just buries his rubbish, presumably so that someone else, presumably an archaeologist hoomun, can then dig them all up again in years to come and get very excited about his discarded Shiphams fish paste jars. So I can see how this all works, I just don't see why. Well, yesterday a fine opportunity arose to satisfy my curiosity and desire to understand much of the hoomun condition. The Owner got in the car, I like cars, and announced to the world that we were going on an archaeology dig. It sounded impressive! When we got there The Owner joined in with all the other Archaeologist Hoomuns in getting very excited about some broken old pot, so I went on a quick patrol of the perimeter. Now I have noticed in the past that they get particularly excited when they find some old bones and they all get put in bags too and taken away, presumably to make into a nice soup for their supper when they get home. Now the bones I can understand the need to bury them for a while first, as they do improve with age. But in the course of my explorations I happened upon a hole in the ground and at the bottom of the hole was bones... loads of bones!! So I thought I would try and join in with the excitement and take one back to the Archaeologist Hoomuns tent for them. As I approached with the bone in my mouth an Archaeology Lady Hoomun who had breath that would descale a kettle at a thousand yards got very animated and started shouting "It's the Femur! It's the Femur!" Well my name isn't Femur, that I am aware. The Owner has never called me that anyway; he has called me many things but never Femur. She rushed over and snatched the bone from my jaws! Well there was no need to get possessive over it! There are many more in that hole over there, I thought, so I went to get another one. The Owner was instructed to go and "Get 'That Dog! and put it somewhere where it can't cause trouble". That Dog?!?! Expect repercussions! So I was put back in the car where I apparently can't cause any more trouble. Can't I? I wouldn't want to put too much money on that!

Draining The Somerset Levels

Oh this weekend I have had such trouble with The Owner! Although to be fair he may have a different version of events for Saturday. I was in the garden, enjoying the sunshine, down in Dingly Dell as you ask, and seeing if I could assist the water flow through the stream there. It was a wet and muddy job but I felt a certain sense of purpose to the whole mornings work and I felt I may have been getting somewhere by digging down to make the stream deeper. Well, The Owner is always ranting at the BBC News about dredging being needed on the Somerset Levels to lower the water levels so I was quite proud to think I may have been helping the water on the Somerset Levels too. About lunchtime I noticed The Owner making rangements on the phone but I continued my mission unconcerned. I had moved on to the stream running down the side of the path to the cottage which wasn't quite so muddy. You notice how I used the past tense there? I was stirring it up a little, but it has to get worse before it gets better doesn't it? Well that's what The Owner says although in his case most of his projects get worse and then sort of lose their way and stay worse. But don't tell him I said that. The stream... I noticed The Owner wander down the path as I was hard at work and a car pulled up in the layby and The Owner opened the car door. Well he was clearly not intentionally going to leave me behind was he? I leapt out of the stream, forgoing the shake to remove excess water (I could do that in a minute once I had caught up with The Owner), and ran down the path and launched myself forth, passing The Owner as I entered the car and hopped nimbly over the back. Now I can pause to shake I thought. It seems that this car was a taxi and Taxi Hoomun was not impressed about something. He asked me to get out and left both The Owner and me at the side of the road. He did return later and gave The Owner a bill for valeting the inside of his taxi. Not sure why, but I was getting the distinct vibe that we may not be using that taxi company again for a while and that The Owner was somehow blaming me for the whole scenario. Hoomuns, huh?

My Valentine Parcel

Postman Maul made me sign for a parcel today! Yes, another parcel (that's what he said too, only he used another word as well that I pretended not to understand). In my Valentine parcel was a card... a valentine card... for me! Ok, it didn't actually say Valentine on the card anywhere, but it was a card and it was sent on Valentines day so in my book that counts. Oh yes, and The Owner too but he doesn't count, it was addressed to me. Little heart shaped biscuits for me and one Bonio shaped with Jack written on it... well ok, so I had a quick chomp and there is only the K left, but you get the idea don't you. There was also a pack of heart shaped chews for The Owner and the observant among you may have noticed a little tear in the side of the packet where his fat little fingers have already been in the side of it and winkled one out. There was also some cakes in there but he has squirrelled them away, out of my reach, before I can get anywhere near them... but I can wait.

My Latest Parcel

Yesterday I was really quite excited as Postman Maul delivered a parcel....addressed to me! Well, whenever I get a parcel there is usually something good inside.. like Bonios. But old mulligrubs, at the desk above me here, grabbed it quick and whisked it away and left it on the shelf where I can't reach. I spent most of my day watching the box, dreaming of the endless possibilities of what could possibly be inside it. It may have been from my anonymous fan known only as BH7 (must be a bloodhound I have concluded) as Bloodhound 7 always sends me parcels with treats in. So as the day wore on the puddle of dribble grew ever bigger as I contemplated the contents of the box. Come evening time we wandered home, a little earlier than normal and The Owner carried my parcel for me. The excitement was building until we got through the door when The Owner my parcel on the kitchen shelf and shut the door behind him as he went off out! Without me since you ask!!!!! I sat watching my parcel for what seemed like an age until he returned carrying bags of stuff from Sainsbugs. Yes, there were Bonios in the bag which would ordinarily be the cause of great excitement but I wanted what was in the parcel! Eventually, shopping put away and a large glass of sherry poured, he sat down with MY parcel. The excitement was mounting as he got out his trusty old pen knife and set to work finding a way into it for me. There was enough sticky tape to keep an ageing battleship afloat around it but eventually he found a way in. I was beside myself! And no I still don't quite understand what that means, but I was. And inside was.......... electrical switches! How do you eat one of them for heavens sake??? 

I consoled myself with the packing which wasn't quite what I had been imagining to be honest but it did have some giant bubble wrap. I like normal bubble wrap as it makes my tongue feel funny so I thought that giant bubble wrap would have been giant pleasure as I sank my teeth in to it. It went off with a giant pop in my mouth!!! That's what the giant stands for! It scared me so much a little bit of wind came out as I clambered on to The Owner's lap knocking his sherry over as I went. He was very quiet for the rest of the evening as he kept looking at the damp patch, formerly known as a glass of sherry, and sighing a lot and frowning at me a lot too. This morning he is getting very excited about a screw driver that he can't find, I think it best I leave him to it.

The Missing Tarpaulin

It was a dark and windy night.... can we have a little reverb on my voice here? I'll say that again. IT WAS A DARK AND WINDY NIGHT, that's better, and this morning The Owner is looking a little confused. Since we moved to the new cottage his big cooker has been languishing outside as he hasn't been able to get the gas pipes through the wall and into the kitchen. I have missed it to be honest as it was quite warm to snuggle up to when it was in use. Anyway, The Owner, Small Boy and Driver Yoof (who both came to see The Owner at the weekend) carried the monster around to the kitchen door and put it down outside for The Owner to clean it in readiness for the great day when it is installed. Between them, it was like the blind leading the blind to be honest, they managed to cover this great behemoth with The Owners special pink tarpaulin. I worry about him sometimes to be honest. I also had the customary cautionary finger wagging session as I was given the list of things I was not allowed to do to it... like weeing up the side of it, or running off with the tarpaulin etc. Well I do have standards! I wouldn't be seen dead running around with a pink tarpaulin! So this morning we went to leave the cottage, coat on... check pockets... go back for phone...go to door....check pockets.....go back...pick up keys...go to door....check pockets....go back for milk bottle.... open door and leave. It can be more lengthy than this some mornings so we were doing well. Outside the door stood the cooker, resplendent in its cleaned dark maroon front freshly cleaned and The Owner smiled at it appreciatively as he walked past it. Then paused... where was the pink tarpaulin? He is, as we speak calling the police to report a theft of a pink tarpaulin. Only he left out the pink bit obviously. I am unsure how or even if I should let him know that it has been taken only by the wind and is no further away than half way up the big poplar trees at the far side of Dingly Dell. When Police Hoomun turns up to investigate this dastardly crime, and I only quote The Owner's description of the incident to the police here, I will watch with interest as Police Hoomun finds it and The Owner tries to explain it. Could be an interesting day I think. :)

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.