The Log Delivery

Yesterday, Bracknell Hoomun and Lady Bracknell Hoomun arrived and brought some logs for The Owner. When I say "some" logs, I mean a lorry load! It took them ages to unload them and carry them round the back and put them in the fuel shed. The fuel shed is now full beyond even The Owners head height right out to the door. I assisted with the process as you would expect, until Bracknell Hoomun nearly ran me over with his wheelbarrow and he seemed particularly vexed by having to load the barrow up again with what he dropped. I left The Owner alone as he seemed in a particularly bad mood as well, after he dropped one of his logs on his foot, just in case he found a way that it was my fault. I went instead and assisted Lady Bracknell Hoomun, mainly coz she had a pocketful of Markies and every time she got down off the lorry, I got one! This morning The Owner is wandering round the house looking for something. In the last few days we have had several deliveries of treats for me. My anonymous friend Blood Hound 7 sent me some treats through the post and then Andrew Plod Hoomun turned up looking for coffee and he brought me some treats, of which I was allowed only the one. Well this morning The Owner is looking for them to give me one for being a "Good Boy". Well, in hoomun terms, a "Good Boy" I am certainly not. But I have to report that treats do somehow taste better when you just find them when you are not supposed to. I think the peace and air of fraternity in the cottage may be shattered when he discovers the empty packet in the boot room. I hope he finds it soon so we can get that bit over and done with for the day coz I just know I will be in trouble when he does. It's raining hard outside so I can't escape to the farm so it may be a long day.

Oh No, Dog Dancing!!!

I was sat there this morning with The Owner, the start of a peaceful Saturday morning, I thought. Our Saturday mornings are seldom out of the ordinary and seldom ever rushed as he watches Breakfast News on the BBC. He is too much of a snob to watch anything else and to be honest I don't mind as I watch Mike Bushell the sports presenter do strange things in the name of unusual sports which usually confounds any theories I may have been forming about the hoomun condition during the previous week. This morning I sat there and saw him start his report and pulled up a corner of my comfy cushion that I hadn't dribbled on or covered in other unidentifiable stains to watch his hoomun sporting antics. I could not believe what I saw!! Dancing Dogs!!!!! After watching this, for the next ten minutes The Owner was fidgeting in a way that I understand only too well, a plan is forming in his mind! I would be making myself scarce for a while as these kind of plans usually are at my expense. I went up the garden and found the spot behind the barbie, true there was little sun and the wind was a bit chilly but it was safer than remaining indoors with The Owner when he is plotting ways of getting himself into the spotlight again.

The Studio Ceiling Paint

Today has been a busy day already, so much so that I have come back to the cottage out of the way of the frenetic activity now taking place in the studio. I have just selected a particularly tasty Bonio for a quiet chomp and sought the comfort and quiet of my comfy cushion instead. I also have my eye on a Markie which I have noticed under the side of the cooker. Well, I have always said that the ruddy Dyson is an instrument of the devil himself haven't I? There is a kind of malevolent consciousness about it which terrifies me, and I think this morning has proved me right. Yet again!! My guess is The Owner has a meeting today in the studio, as early this morning he threw the ruddy Dyson onto his shoulder and marched off to the studio with a certain sense of purpose about him. He then proceeded to vacuum the carpet, then my vet-bed and duvet, then behind the book shelves and, clearly warming to his task he went in search of more fodder to feed the damn thing with. Nothing was safe! My world was in a frenzy as I ran from desk to desk trying to find some refuge from this mechanical Lucifer! Then he turned his attentions to Spider, who, together with many of his ancestors, has spent the last hundred years or more building cobwebs without limitations. Was nothing safe I wondered? Apparently not! I have been noticing two large areas of ceiling paint peeling a little and that was where The Owner turned his attentions next, which I was quite pleased about as the usual ritual when nothing further can be sucked up off the floor is to chase me around a lot with the Dyson hose. It was then that it happened!!! The effects of the ruddy Dyson were a little too much for the adhesive properties of two hundred years of paint on the ceiling and with an extra special suck from the Dyson hose, about half of the area of the ceiling paint came down as one piece! I thought I was seeing a ghost or something as the dust began to settle, this sheet of white paint was draped over the desk and the light unit in the middle of the ceiling and this big lump was moving around underneath it like a hamster under a freshly laid carpet. The only thing which gave away what was causing it was that the lump was swearing quite a lot using words that I pretend not to understand, so it had to be The Owner. Postman arrived at that point and opened the door and shut it again very quick. I guess we'll be getting our mail tomorrow instead! I think today, my comfy cushion will be about as far as I venture, for my own safety as much as anything else.

Survey Hoomun's Lunch Box

Well today has been a thoroughly rewarding day all things considered and I am feeling quite full. Although I have been on the receiving end of one or two nasty stares which I felt may have been a little harsh. On morning patrol we were heading for the farm and the warmth and, more importantly, the DRY studio. When we got almost there we happened upon two hoomuns who I believe were called Survey Hoomun, not sure why they both had the same name, perhaps they were related although I can imagine that may have been confusing at dinner times. So they were there with this tripod thing, and I have learned from my experience with the zimmer frame on the station that it was not acceptable to wee up things with legs, but there was this red box, unguarded. So I wee'd on the box instead. Only a little wee it was, hardly worth all the fuss really! Survey Hoomun gave me a particularly hard stare and threw her sandwiches on the field, well how was I supposed to know the box had her sandwiches in??!!? But I made a note of where they went and retrieved them later, after all I am a retriever! A bit less pickle may have been better I thought. Then Water Cooler Hoomun turned up and he normally gives me a Bonio from my bucket so I got quite excited by the thought. But instead he gave me an apple.....I wasn't impressed! However he left his van door open and I had noticed an open bag of crisps on the seat so it all worked out for the best in the end!!!

Home Alone

On Saturday I was left home alone! The very sound of it brings a shudder to my bones. I knew something was up as The Owner had been in the bath for far too long to be normal for a Saturday and some of the smelly things that he was spraying about up there were too hideous to mention. It wasn't long before Bracknell Lady Hoomun arrived, as if by way of explanation. Now, I like Bracknell Lady Hoomun as she usually brings me a tasty chomp or two as a bribe of some kind, so I did my best excited bounce and my very best excited run round the tree by the path that I wee on, but not a chomp nor treat did she give me! I was beginning to revise my opinion about her quickly! Even more so when The Owner threw a Bonio on my comfy cushion and when I went and got it they both were out the door in less time than it takes to open a Bonio box!!! I took advantage of my enforced solitude and had a quick snooze on the settee that I am not normally allowed on, then his armchair, then Small Boys bed..... in fact I tried every thing that I am not normally allowed on. The only place I was unable to have a snooze on was The Owners bed as he had shut the bedroom door before he went. Although I was frankly not disappointed, as ever since I had a snooze on his bed last week, whilst I dried off after being shut out in the rain, there has been a strange smell of damp emanating from his room which I am frankly none too keen on. It was dark when they returned. My initial bouncing was a little difficult at first when the door opened, not because I had the grumps with him for leaving me, but because there was considerable pressure in my bladder which needed to be relieved first. Made all the worse by The Owner having left a tap dribbling in the bathroom! Bracknell Lady Hoomun was immediately forgiven for not bringing me a tasty chomp earlier in the day by arriving with a pocket full of Markies. The Owner however arrived with a kebab in his hand and so Sunday morning will be filled with either hideous breath that would de-scale the kettle at a thousand yards, which even I would not want to sniff, or an endless run upstairs to the lavatory holding his belly..... or both! Not sure why he does it really, far better to stick to something which is thoroughly wholesome.... like badger poo!

My Letter From The RSPCA

Well, so far this week I have had two letters from Postman. The first was early this week and I think it came from Blood Hound 7. Some nice treats for me I thought although The Owner was a little too keen to hide them from me, but my nose did not let me down. "Hah!", I thought, as I rummaged through his secret stash of wine bottles, "No problem!". I was, however, unsure whether I should be having an opinion on being sent "Wonky Chomps" through the post. Should I be drawing any conclusions here? Well, after being sent out into three inches of drought yesterday morning and being reassured that my skin was waterproof I did feel a little better when I found my way upstairs and snoozed on The Owner's bed until I dried off a little. Three inches of drought is quite a lot when spread over The Owners bed! This morning I had another letter addressed to me from the RSPCA. Whenever there are loads of letters after a name The Owner always makes them out to be very important so I was hopeful. Well I am so over the RSPCA!!!!!! Lots of letters to make up a name and not a tasty chomp in there for me!!!!! I am off to bed I think!

Observations on RookPoo and Nest Building

Today The Owner's face was very black and I have to say that his mood seemed likewise so I have kept out of the way. It has been raining heavily all day so the sunny spot behind the barbie was out of the question, so I have spent the day curled up in the straw in the calf sheds. Our cottage is very old, The Owner says it is hundreds of years old so it is probably as old as him. In the shed is an old copper what they used to use for washing. The Owner refers to it as Zanussi V1.0 and then laughs very loudly at his own joke. I have been telling Rook for days that the chimney pot above the copper is not a good place for building a nest but would he listen to me? Mind you with the row his Lady Rook keeps making if he doesn't build it right he is probably deaf by now. Anyway, this morning Rook threw a particularly large twig down the chimney and forgot to let go. When The Owner went to get some logs he heard him in the chimney. What started out as just opening the firebox door for Rook to find his way out has finished up with bits of stone and copper everywhere and one Rook very reluctant to show his face. With the first row of stone and bricks already removed it was at this point that Rook chose to make his bid for freedom. I can't help but think if he had thought first about his escape route The Owner may not have got covered in quite so much soot and rook poo and my life may have been a little easier today. This evening it is still raining, The Owner has wiped most of the soot from his face on a bath towel (I suspect that Lady Cleaner Hoomun will have an opinion about that tomorrow) and Rook is on top of the chimney again being berated by Lady Rook for using the wrong size sticks to build her the nest of her dreams. Equilibrium has been restored, which is more than can be said for the copper!