Smurfs or Ancient Britons:Santa or Satan. Penultimate Post of 2015

Nearly New Year and new experiences are still coming thick and fast. I seem to meet new friends daily some two-legged, some four-legged. The staff take me walking most days though not as far as I’d like but I do meet interesting canines and sniff up some amazing new scents.

Independence Day comes to Studland

The beach is my undoubted favourite ‘cos we meet loads of new people there and I get to chase a myriad different species from birds to some weird alien species that seems to just lie there so they’re not much fun. The smells are amazing though and I'm sure there are foxes, badger and deer though, of course we rarely see them. 

I’ve met many other dogs most of them friendly and some a bit stand-offish but they’re largely tolerant of my poor social skills. Dogs are good fun and mostly play or just ignore me, bitches are not so tolerant and usually give me a right earful and sometimes even a token snap, aimed to miss obviously, I’m only little and young so allowances are made but I don’t quite know how long this will continue. No doubt it will be made crystal clear when the time comes.

Bit of a Mexican stand-off

Met some strange huge quadrupeds recently and, again, new niggles began itching at the back of my brain. Something tells me that however daunting they appear these monsters are easily intimidated by a superior intelligence - that would be me in case you’re wondering! Anyway we had a bit a stand off, an OK Corral scenario if you like, but they finally turned tail and rejoined their friends intimidated by the unstoppable force of my overweening if somewhat misplaced self-confidence. Once I’d got her on the move though my job was done and, discretion being the better part of valour, I returned triumphantly to the staff, honour duly satisfied.

If you share this I will find you and I will kill you

A couple of posts back I was bemoaning the fact that our humans love to dress us canines up in all sorts of ignominious get-ups and I was abjuring any kind soul to shoot me should anything so foul overtake me. Little did I know, gentle reader, what lay close around the corner. I can barely bring myself to post the photographic evidence and, in my defence, there was significant gustatory bribery involved but, as you can plainly see, I refused absolutely to go the whole nine yards - the hood was just a bridge too far! 

One day I'll look back at all this and laugh but it may be some time.

One canine, one molar - the last ones

My dentition seems to be causing some concern to the staff. My right upper canine steadfastly refused to make way for its younger sibling which was valiantly erupting underneath it. I and it got examined daily, sometimes several times, and there was much hushed discussion and talk of doom & gloom. I've even heard the V-E-T word mentioned. Quel horreur! Every time my teeth were motionless enough one or other of the domestics tried to grab the offending tooth to see if it was at all mobile - wobbly I think is the preferred term. This was a great game as it gave me an opportunity to try out the other new teeth on nice soft fingers and much hilarity ensued; at least I thought it was hilarious. Anyway, the butler was thumbing the offending canine one evening and, just as I was about to see how far into his digit I could sink it, there was a sharp crack and, low and behold, I  had a wobbly tooth. Great sighs of relief all round from the staff but me, I was not so keen. For a start there was a little blood which, on the whole I'm not averse to, unless it's mine which in this case it was. Secondly, I ended up with a kind of cross between and itch and a pain in my gum which I had to work on until it went away. 

Christmas Day started with a walk at Shell Bay beach which had practically disappeared because of the high tide. (There was a full moon that night, don’t ask me how I know, you wouldn’t like the answer and you probably wouldn’t sleep much during future full moons. 'Cue distant wolf howl.') Didn’t mean a thing to me,of course because I’ve never seen this beach before but the staff were gobsmacked. Met a 17 month old GSD called Floyd who was huge but good natured luckily and definitely up for a game. The rain was quite heavy by this time and Floyd’s games will just have to wait. I’m all for singing in the rain but the help seem to be made out of rice paper and were positively bursting to get back to the car. 

I’m rambling a bit now folks so I’ll sign off for now and let you get the life you so richly deserve.

PS - at the beach last week someone had buried a Smurf or a wode-infused ancient Briton face down. Now the question is what would Lassie do? Bite the bum or park the bike? Answers on a postcard please.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it....

Behold The Chimera

Just a short unexpected bulletin today. I just had to let you into the horror that just occurred. I seem to be growing tusks and turning into some kind of warthog. I was blithely checking myself out in the mirror of the double glazing to ascertain my most photogenic angle, and this is what I saw...

...imagine my horror. Oh.My.Days! I just thought I'd got a bit of twig caught in between my canines but no, they seem to have developed minds of their own and now seem to be pointing in the same direction as my ears and now 90 degrees in the opposite direction like some demented weather vane. The butler is very comforting and tries to persuade me that it's just me shedding my 'baby teeth'. What? Baby teeth, there's nothing juvenile about these gnashers they've made some significant holes in the staff and anything else I chew to while away the long hours of darkness. Anyway, just thought I'd keep you all up to speed not doubt time will tell if I'm to be canine, porcine or some peculiar new species of pig-dog. Que sera, sera and all that.

In With A Bang, Out Like Lion

Well November draws to a close with wind, rain and hail. Storms are battering the coast all over the UK. The staff think that this is really October weather but since I’ve been here less than a year it’s all I know so I’m assuming this is normal whatever normal is. The staff seem to be acquiring a lot of new wet weather gear using me as an excuse ‘cos they ‘need to be weatherproof’ when taking me for my daily exercise don’t they? No mention of getting me any wet weather togs I note. I just have to use my double layer of coat and lump it. Luckily I’m young, vibrant and life is so interesting I don’t notice any change in the external conditions. I’m just glad to be immersed in the new and exciting smells that I come across every time I’m abroad either on the heath or the beach.

Yours truly, channeling Narcissus at Little Sea, Studland

A recent trip over the heathland at Hartland Moor gave me the opportunity to meet some new animals that I hadn’t come across though I’ve attempted to sample their pooh up at Durleston a time or two much to the staff’s disgust. These dudes were big and white with black noses and were damned inquisitive, a bit intimidating if I’m brutally honest. They made a bee line for us from across the field even though we weren’t any kind of threat they headed for us en masse lickety split. Luckily the butler had been scared witless by similar intimidation as a pup and was more than able for them, keeping them at bay while the maid and I crossed a convenient gate and I could swear at them from a distance and with a gate between us so that was cool (more of gates later). Have to say there was something niggling at the back of my brain all the while a bit like the upright posts and trees thing. A strange impulse to get in among them and nip a few heels. I resisted of course and the niggle subsided but I have a feeling that these atavistic urges will surface again and probably get me into all sorts of bother. The urge to be close enough to legs and feet to administer some dental encouragement is strong and is already drawing some fairly choice language from the staff as they trip over me with monotonous regularity. The butler, in particular, has a pretty comprehensive lexicon of choice phrases that I’m sure would not go down well in mixed company. Luckily my language skills are pretty poor but the tone is sufficiently dire for me to give him as wide a berth as I can. My resolve to stay away from his feet lasts about 5 minutes max then the old atavistic urges kick in (an appropriate phrase that) and I’m threading my way between his feet again. It makes a dull walk quite entertaining. Strange, when I’m on the lead I pull like a sled dog but off the lead, have this irresistible magnetic attraction to feet that gets me into trouble every time. It’s been remarked more than once by the staff that I’m a contrary little mutt.

This morning we headed to Studland Bay for a brisk, and I mean brisk, trip along the sand. It was blowing about Force 6 offshore so the water was invitingly flat but I’ve caught that way before so gave it a wide berth. Thought I was home and hosed until I jumped on what I thought was a nice dry bed of seaweed only to find it was floating on about 6 inches of water. That was a surprise and I’ll have to be more careful in future but still, nobody died.

Met some nice dogs out for their morning constitutionals, a poodle an Australian cattle dog who seemed to have left his tail at home which I thought was pretty cool really given the weather, tails are a bloody menace when they get saturated, upset your balance not end. Got a weird feeling he was a bit of a kindred spirit more of an intuitive feeling really, non-verbal and he was very chilled even with me bouncing off him like some demented squash ball. Hope I meet him again. The poodle was a brick too and more than up for a chase across the sand. The third member of this troupe was an elderly black and white collie who walked funny with her head cocked on one side and gave me a right earful when I approached. Gave her plenty of room I can tell you these ears are just too vulnerable to take a chance. Her staff told mine that she was fifteen and had had a stroke which I would have thought was a good thing really, I quite like a stroke whenever I can get one but it obviously doesn’t agree with her. Still each to his or her own. the meet was all too brief and on we went into the teeth of the wind. As I was looking over my shoulder to make sure the staff were keeping up, I literally tripped over this…

…smelled a bit rum so I thought I’d sample it and see what it tasted like. In the event, not much is the answer, sort of salty, slightly chewy but not in a good way and with a slightly fishy aftertaste. Not very appealing and not a patch on cow pats which, in addition to having rich earthy texture, taste divine and are packed full of Vitamin D so a win all round. The floppy frisbee, on the other hand, was not that appetising but they do seem to be plentiful and I had to watch carefully where I was putting my feet I can tell you. If only a way could be found to flavour them with bovine crap the food shortage dilemma might be solved.

That’s all for November, roll on the end of the year.

Toodle pip.

November Gales & Problems Of Windage

You can see my problem...

It’s been very windy and I’m think of getting these ears cropped in case I’m whisked off to join the migrating flocks heading south from the cliffs beside Durlston Castle. That’d give the twitchers a start and something to write about in their little notebooks. The staff take me on what they call ‘walks’ (they even spell it sometimes - sad gits). I’d rather refer to them a scent trails because, although the view doesn’t change much the smells are magic and change daily. You never know what your nose is going to describe and everything from foxes, cats, badgers, deer, mice and a unique log aggressive scent I can’t quite place but which haunts the dry stone walling above the light house. This last I instinctively know to avoid but I don’t know why. no doubt all will be revealed in due course when I finally set eyes on the scent’s owner. Hope I’m not alone because it doesn’t smell good. Other than that I get to meet the loveliest canines and their respective staff. There’s one black & white pointer who good fun and very polite. It’s probably the English in him. His staff member is always in a hurry so its just a brisk handshake and he’s off. I try and keep up but his legs are four times as long as mine so there’s not much point in chasing but I try anyway. 

Even in the wet I'm made sit!
So unfair

It’s interesting to meet new guys and gals each with their own particular character. I wonder sometimes what they think of me. I think these southerners think I’m a bit too familiar really. It’s probably the mix of Welsh and Mancunian that instils few social graces in my nature, that and my extreme youth. Everything is a game I think. Why be serious when you can bounce off folks. Not everyone appreciates my joie de vivre but do I care? No way Jose, life is too short and so am I.

Other than the cliff walks, the irritating of the grouchy pooches, the dead-heading the hydrangeas and the general mayhem and destruction life is pretty dull. There’s a trip in the tin box with the wheels which seems to go on forever and would be pretty much unbearable if it wasn’t for the whole new scent panorama at the end of it. Lovely herbivore pooh to inhale like there’s no tomorrow, quite tasty too some of it much to the staff’s disgust. Wide open downs to race across, mould smelling fungi which seem to spring out of the ground like jacks in the box and catch my eye easily cos they’re at my level. Unfortunately they don’t taste as good as they look but you can’t have everything. The lovely smelling pooh is laid by some enormous herbivores that seem to carry their staff on their backs and sweat a lot after their daily walks. Not sure what that’s all about but the salty sweat make them smell very tasty. Might have to drag one down and sample it one of these days. Might have to get a team together though, not sure I’m up to it alone. Funny, I have no idea where these grandiose plans come from but they seem to begin as a nagging ache at the back of my head. It’s bit like the leg cocking thing which is becoming more insistent. My current bladder emptying routine seems pretty efficient all in all but this subliminal urge to try it three legs is getting almost irresistible and I have no idea why. No doubt all will be revealed in due course.

I guess that’s enough of my blether for now and if anybody’s still reading my thoughts after eleven post you really need to get a life:) Talk to me I’ve lots to spare though how long that’ll last is moot. Every day one of the staff threatens to kill me for some perceived transgression. Me, I’m blissfully ignorant of all chastisement and I’m just enjoying life to the full. So folks be well, be happy and don’t let the turkeys get you down. Au revoir people. Laters…

Ghoulies, Ghosties & Things That Go Bang In The Night

Well it’s All Hallows Eve Chez Sid and Tony, the butler, has a birthday today so that tells you all you need to know about his proclivities! He’s all pumpkins, funny teeth, bats, capes and white-face make up, bit of a div if I’m really honest. The long and short of it is that the staff are going out to fill their bellies with posh nosh and leaving me to my own devices at home. Still, at least it gives me a bit of peace and quiet and I don’t have to do any of these ‘sit, stand, lie down’ tricks which I find very boring and I can do standing in my sleep if I really want to - the treats are merely an incidental and welcome side effect of my perfect performance. So off they go but before they leave I have to go through this pathetic charade of the external ablutions  out in the garden. I mean, I ask you, am I likely to despoil my small pen with wee, or worse, unnecessarily. I have had the odd accident but my bladder was much smaller then but, hey, we still have go through this palaver as though I’m still a pup. For goodness sake I’m nearly four months old, that’s almost two in humans years. Anyway, I’m mid-squat on the grass (there’s a strange compulsion to ‘raise a hind leg’ whispering in the back of my brain which is slightly disturbing, feels like I’m having a stroke, but I’m ignoring it for the time being) but I digress, I’m mid-squat when there’s a whooshing sound followed by a loud bang and before I know it the old survival mechanism has kicked in and I’m heading back to the sanctuary of the kitchen. Didn’t half give me a start but Lynda had a handy treat and those seem to have the capacity to induce rapid amnesia. The staff had a hurried conversation about The Event and it transpires that humans have a rather touching if somewhat childish affinity for sparkly things and things that go bang, a bit like the Native Americans had for shiny trinkets when the first settlers landed in America. (I know, it’s amazing what you can pick up from the TV while relaxing on the butler’s lap in the evenings. I’m soaking stuff up like a sponge. Sponges there’s another interesting subject and oh’ look - a squirrel.) It’s all very childish but the staff are worried lest I develop an over-sensitive reaction to ‘fireworks’ I believe they’re called. Not worried enough to stay home and cuddle me senseless though so they turn on the radio and bugger off for their posh blow-out. So now I’ve got two noises to be concerned about, inane Radio 2 drivel from some hyper-active babbler in between ‘music’ and potential aerial explosions which go off without warning. Honestly these humans, what do they use for brains? In the event there were a couple more pathetic pops but I seem to be able to cope with them through two layers of glass. The ‘music’ was far worse. Perhaps I can get them to leave Classic FM on in future though I despair for their sensitivity. They are a bit thick. Still it could be worse I was perusing the web and came across this...

... I trust someone will shoot me before I sink to this level. Oh the indignity.

Other than that life proceeds apace and I meet loads of new people on my daily exercise some quite pleased to see me others not so much. I keep meeting new dogs most of them considerably bigger than I am. I say bigger but, of course, I’m referring to height only. In terms of character and ego I’m difficult to match and most of these much taller dogs are a bit slow. I expect the nerve impulses have that much further to travel so everything just slows down. Mostly these guys are pretty civilised and either ignore me completely or give me a couple of cursory wags which is a bit patronising but, I suppose, only to be expected for the new kid on the block. I’m guessing they’re a bit threatened at so much charisma in so neat a package. We’ll see how it goes.

Back later with more news from the undergrowth - that folks is a description of my hunting ground not my diminutive self. Laters...

The Devil Strikes Out

Ain’t that just typical no post for ages then two come along almost simultaneously. Apologies dear reader but just had to let you all know about the latest adventure - The Agglestone. The what? I hear you cry and well you might. 

High above Studland Bay looking out towards the Isle of Wight, Christchurch, Bournemouth and Poole Harbour is a big lump of rock around which much folklore is woven and I’ve been there. How about that.

The majestic Agglestone overlooking Studland Bay

The story goes that the Devil, aiming for Corfe Castle, threw a big rock from the Isle of Wight towards the aforementioned fortification. However what with the fires of eternal damnation distorting his perspective, not allowing for the headwind, not having the chance to do any bracketing there being only one rock and his right arm being weak, either from casting sinners into the pit or from having someone sitting on it (in an ‘if it’s good enough for the Big Guy it’s good enough for me’ sort of mood) he missed by, it has to be said, more than a mile. The stone, for that it was, dropped short and landed on Godlingston Heath about a quarter of a mile short of the golf course. Personally I think he was playing golf and should’ve listened to his caddy and used a nine iron but you know these fallen angels, they just think they know it all. Anyway, the long and the short of it (or the short of it really) was that his ball/rock landed on Godlingston Heath and now stands there for all to see, a testament to Old Nick’s failure at projectile theory. At some point it became called the Agglestone and to this day stands overlooking Poole Harbour and Studland in silent testament to Old Nick’s impotence.

The majestic Sid parking his arse on the majestic stone

Now I suspect this is all baloney but it’s a good tale and it has prompted myriad folks to trudge across this rather unprepossessing bit of scrub to see a lump of rock in the middle of nowhere or almost in the middle of nowhere (he couldn’t even get that right ). Lynda & Tony, being no exception to the lure of tales of Devil hurling, loaded me into the charabanc, drove to Studland and let me loose on the Heath which was Huge Fun. The smells were outstanding, all heather, peat and undergrowth mixed with indeterminate scents which I had never before encountered. Much chat was batted back and forth between the staff about the stunning views but, as you may have noticed from my pictures I am somewhat vertically challenged so my horizon is only about ten feet in front of me and much of this breathtaking vista was completely lost on moi. I was picked up once but I was so busy swearing at the mongrel I was being ‘saved’ from that I completely forgot to register the view and my breath remained firmly where it was supposed to be. Asthma inducing visions or not I had a ball. Laid siege to the stone, tried to dig my way under it in the soft sand, pursued tantalising scents into impenetrable gorse and heather and generally wore myself out in some style. At one point a strange slithery scent wafted its way in the direction of my nostrils but Tony distracted me before I could pin it down and, by the time I got to its source, there was nothing on the path but bare sand. Some words were bandied around by the staff and ‘smooth snake’ was in there somewhere but since I have no idea what is ‘smooth snake’ all I’m left with in another uncategorised scent. More questions than answers. But hey, I’m very zen and I’m not letting it worry me over much. No doubt all will become clear eventually. 

That’s about all folks. Thanks for reading and stay tuned.

Chin chin.

The Scent Also Rises

Just realised that it’s ages since I've posted and my apologies for that but life is busy, busy, busy. Meeting people, new places, new dogs and most of all expanding my scent palate is so exhausting that by the time I'm back home just the thought of picking up a pen is more than I can face. Everything is just soooo exciting.  

Days begin generally with a quick tour of the garden to check that all the night visitors have left. Some of them like to outstay their welcome and worse leave me little scent presents as if this was their territory instead of mine! Bloody cheek. The cats are the worst, at least that what I think they are - definite feline pong off 'em anyway. Sometimes there's one still lurking in the undergrowth and I see them off PDQ. They make a satisfying sort of thud as they hit the fence panels and the sound of frantic scrabbling up the woodwork is just the icing on the cake. It's quite an art staying just far enough away to not actually catch them while ramping up their panic. But I think I've got it down just right. I just don't know where I get my talent. There's a much bigger smell that haunts the garden in the early hours but from the size of it I'm sure I don't want to meet its owner. I’ve come across a similar one while taking the staff for their daily exercise over Durlston Country Park and, although I investigate, I don't stick around long enough to meet its perpetrator. I have a feeling that mother passed the 'caution in the face of Badgers' gene down in her milk. I just seem to know instinctively to avoid close contact. They're a pretty uncouth lot badgers, their latrines are all over the place on the Country Park and they're enormous!( the latrines that is) Looks like someone has emptied a whole carrier bag full of pooh all in one place and they're best avoided really unless one was hunting badgers of course. Then a swift roll in the latrine might be in order. The things one does for one's hunting vocation! Luckily I can leave that sort of thing up to the German cousins, the Dachshunds, they seem to like that kind of hunting.

These guys are best given a wide berth

Talking of the Country Park, that's my usual stomping ground and its tremendous fun even if I have to drag the staff around with me. There are so many different dogs up there that there's a new experience every time we go. So far I've met Viszlas (strange accents and no vowels), Terriers(fancy themselves a bit if you ask me), Labradors (lugubrious characters and a bit thick), Retrievers ( not much ambition, bit of a one trick pony if I'm honest), more Shih Tzus ( worse accents than the Hungarians and humourless owners. Also looks like he’s been punched in the schnoz and I can’t say I’m surprise about that!). All canine life is here really. Most are great and well up for a game of chase and if they’re not I can usually provoke them enough to start the ball rolling.

The smells are outrageous, Durlston must be a proper Sodom & Gomorrah at night and I have no real idea of what goes on after dark but the smell landscape is mind boggling and canine, vulpine, feline, mellivore, rodentine and avian pongs abound. Make me quite dizzy and my brain is fizzing by the time we get home. Tires me out for all of five minutes. I think I’m a bit ADHD.

Anybody for ritalin cocktail?

The servants, Lynda & Tony as they like to be called, are coming into line nicely. As I think I've mentioned previously they're not the sharpest knives in the drawer but they get there eventually and I can rely on a steady supply of nourishment some of it even quite palatable. They don't seem to understand the necessity for me to sink my teeth into their digits whenever I get excited but they'll just have to get used to it. There's only so many concessions I can make for them. On the plus side they're kinda warm and have some well moulded slot into which I fit nicely.

That’s all for now peeps but stay tuned to the inter webs for more of the profound prognostications of El Sid. Adios.

Puppy Training? Human Training More Like.

Bit tardy with the latest post people. Apologies but life has been just hectic. Got a trip back to the V-E-T where everybody made a big fuss of me and I got lots treats. Cynic that I am, this usually means some heinous event has been perpetrated about which I am completely in the dark. I do seem to have developed a small lump on my neck suddenly. I hope it’s not serious. Somebody now knows where I am at all times and I'm told that my movements can be tracked to the nearest millimetre. Why anyone would be interested in my pooh is anyone’s guess but I’m not bothered. If you’ve done nothing wrong you’ve got nothing to fear as I’m assured and I'd guess I don’t take up much room on the GCHQ database. Speaking of my pooh the staff collect it in little plastic bags which is very touching. They must have quite a collection by now and I’ve resolved to try and deposit my baby teeth where they can be easily located. Maybe I’ll leave them stuck in the kitchen chair legs. 

Try as I might, the ears have insisted on Living La Vida Yoda as you can see. The humans seem to think they're cute but I find they take just a soupçon off my top speed which is a pain. Just have to live with them I suppose short of finding a pair of scissors or standing a bit close to a bacon slicer there's really no choice. 

Look at the size of those things! Will those slow me down or what?

The staff took me out to another strange place where there were a selection of other young canines some of them quite nice really. Took a bit of a fancy to a sheltie who looked mighty fine until she opened her mouth when everything went south quite drastically. God help her mate, he’ll need a set of ear plugs. Dreadful accent with a terrible sharp edge to her tone. Gave me the shudders and quite quenched my libido in nothing flat. Most of the others were much bigger than I am but I’m blowed if I’l back down. The punk mohican got a serious outing that evening.

There was some ‘training’ during for which I could ‘earn’ nibbles of either cheese, which I’ve never had before, or some smoky tasting meat confection both of which were really tasty. Made me concentrate intensely I can tell you and I got loads of praise and, more to the point, loads of tidbits. I’d like to go again and soon. I’m getting lots of ‘training’ at home and consequently lots more treats. One further advantage to this process is that the staff, Lynda & Tony, seem to be responding well to the training too. They’re fairly quick learners I’ll give them that.

Love those treats.

Taken back to the beach where there’s loads more seaweed on the sand which makes a great shake toy though it tastes pretty foul frankly. Met a couple of ShiTzus (not sure what the plural is I’m afraid) and one was quite civilised but the other… well to say she was a fishwife is to understate matters by some considerable margin. Couldn’t understand a word I’m afraid, sounded Chinese but who knows. Reminded me of sis and made me quite maudlin for a while. I kinda miss the little bitch. My low mood never lasts long luckily ‘cos there is so much to see and do.

Another bunch of humans called in recently from Ireland. Nice people but weird accents and a strange peaty smell. One of them was about to be seventy so ten in human years…I think. Big deal. I don’t know what all the fuss is about but it seems to be some kind of achievement. Have to say he’s not wearing so well for a ten-year old. 

Today there’s water falling out of the sky. Now Lynda has a thing she calls a water pistol which is directed at me when she thinks I’m too demanding. This morning I’m shoved out before I’ve had time to do anything untoward and within seconds I’m soaked. How is that fair? I haven’t even had time to transgress in any way. I don’t understand this latest turn of events. No doubt all will become clear…or not.

Signing off now from Maddening Towers. Toodle pip folks.

The Beach, The Garden and Another Little Prick

Your roving reporter here, signing in for another update of my dirty life and times. 

Life, as they say, is just one damn thing after another. Yesterday the staff took me back to what they refer to as the V-E-T (they think spelling is beyond my capabilities. Well it may be but smelling isn’t and neither is my sense of direction lacking in any way). Same kennel, slightly different smell because it’s a different V-E-T this time. No brighter than the last one as it turns out. They all seem to approach hands first, towering above me even though I’m on a table which is a bit scary and I respond in the only way I know how - with a verbal warning. They seem particularly insensitive though, don’t understand or pretend not to. Either way they keep coming and I give a second louder verbal warning with some curled lip. The maid holds me tighter which make matters worse really. If she’s tense then there must really be something to worry about cos she’s huge! (Tall I mean, the butler’s warned me about lax terminology. Says it’s got him into some very hot water. Not sure what that means but it doesn’t sound good.) Any road up, my alert status goes from green (squirming, wagging and general obsequiousness which I’m very good at) to amber (growling not wagging) to amber plus (louder growl with a slight curl of lip) to full on red (dental retaliation )as the hands keep approaching. Didn’t connect though, this one is quiiick! Eventually she resorted to the usual bribery and I managed to sink my teeth into something even if it was just a liver morsel. I was weighed again - on the cat scales which is somewhat humiliating and smells of cat wee and feet. I’ve smelled better. Anyway, after a significant amount of blether I got that stinging sensation in the back of my neck again and it was out in to the adjoining room where surprise, surprise there was another puppy the same colour as me. Much billing and cooing was done over this Spaniard I think it was called. Strange ears I thought, how does he keep them out of his dinner? Probably doesn’t ‘cos he smelled as if he was saving a bit of food for later. So, more chat, more hilarity and its back in the tin box with the wheels and home and thank goodness that’s over.

You looking at me?

I’ve just about got the garden mapped out - there’s some steps down to a flat bit grass, some gravel, a bit of jungle which is great fun to stalk things in. Haven’t found any prey yet but I’m sure there’s some in there somewhere. I’ll keep looking. Everything is completely fascinating and some of it is even edible if a bit fibrous. The staff don’t seem overjoyed by my adventures and the ‘no’ word seems to be hurled about like they’re getting royalties every time it’s used. I do try but, hey, life is just so interesting and seems to try and burst out of me without warning. I’m sure there’s a much much bigger dog inside me trying to erupt every now and again. Luckily these fliddies seem to make the staff laugh which defuses an otherwise tricky situation. (I suppose it’s a laugh, there’s a lot of teeth but it doesn’t seem in any way threatening and it’s often followed by cuddles to which I feign resistance because I’m a bloke aren’t I? Secretly I’m rather fond of the cuddles thing.)

Yesterday afternoon I was taken to see another lot of boats which seemed to have wheels this time. Probably some sort of amphibious vehicle. The earth was very soft not stuck together like the stuff in the garden and not nearly as much fun to dig in. Strange taste too with little bits of dark green rag-like vegetation sprinkled around. Try as I might I couldn’t make it squeak, hard as I shook it. There was water too like last weekend but this was a teasing sort of liquid because no sooner had it approached than it withdrew again. Bit of a puzzle but luckily I not bothered by water it was quite salty though. A couple of ne’erdowells ambled up the beach but I showed them my hackles and they mosyed on and left me in peace. 

My first beach trip

Finally, I’ve twigged that the maid’s name is Lynda while butler’s moniker is Tony so I’ll get all egalitarian and call them that from now on. Don’t want to go all David Cameron though I will keep them at arms length - staff are staff when all said and done.

Onward and upwards dear reader. Toodle pip.

Lessons In German and Swimming - A Tiring Day

My goodness, there's a steady procession of humans through this kennel. I think the servants must be interviewing for more staff. They all come in and make a beeline for me which I find somewhat rude really. They haven't even been introduced. Still some of them bring toys which I can only think are some kind of bribe but I have fun destruction testing them anyway which makes the inconvenience worth while - mostly.

Went out in the noisy conveyance yesterday and down to something the staff call ‘the boat’ which turns out to be a sort of floating kennel tied to the riverbank. The staff seem quite keen though so I thought I'd humour them and pose a bit.

I think this is definitely my best side.

The smells were interesting though and at one point I was accosted by an enormous German Shepherd lookalike who was incredibly forward poking his nose into places I’d rather he didn’t. I’m only little so, on the 'discretion is the better part of valour' principle I hightailed it out of there. I’d forgotten about the lead and ended up like a demented animated Swingball with Hermann bearing down on me with a wicked grin. All in all it was not a little scary and the hair on my back went all Sid Viscious on me and stood on end like I’d been electrified which I suppose, in a way, I had. Not looking forward to meeting Hermann again - not much sense of humour.

The day ended with the maid trying to teach me to swim by diving off the jetty in the most ungainly way. The butler dropped my lead, presumably to supervise from the bank, leaving me to my own devices and I made for the jetty to offer some enthusiastic encouragement. There seemed to be a lot of to-ing and fro-ing for a while and the staff got quite wet. I didn’t learn much though and I think they’d forgotten I’m a quadruped so their flailing about was quite lost on me. Maybe I could teach them. The whole episode was very tiring and I slept very well after it.

I have this strange compulsion to follow on the staff’s heels as close as I can get which is slightly hazardous since, if I loose concentration, I sometime get a toe in the snout which makes me yelp and head for the bed. I’m learning to dodge this hazard quite quickly but it’s not without it’s painful lessons. The butler says if I can’t take a joke I shouldn’t have joined which is a slightly brutal attitude IMHO. I’ll show him!

All for now. A bientôt folks.

Sunbathing, Cardboard & A Pain in the Neck

It’s been over a week in this new kennel but I can’t seem to work out my name. Sometimes it seem to be ‘No’, sometimes ‘Sid’ though differentiating between Sid and Sit is not easy for a non-native speaker I can tell you. It’s all a bit puzzling but I think I’m getting the hang of it. The maid keeps putting an itchy band round my neck which I can just about tolerate but then, to cap it all, she attaches another long rope to it and walks me round the garden. I’m sure all will become clear sooner or later but for the time being it’s odd. 

 Can’t complain much since there are useful sun bathing platforms all round the place where I can just chill which, to be frank, I’m quite good at. Perhaps I’ve found my métier in which case this may not be a bad gig when all said and done.

I have all sorts of toys which make odd noises but my absolute favourite is the cardboard tube I sometimes get when the maid or the butler come back from the bathroom. That’s great fun and rips up nicely. I’m currently trying to find out how many pieces I can produce from one of these and how many square feet one roll will cover. My record so far is the whole kitchen but I think with a bit of forward planning I can stretch it to two rooms fairly easily. It’s a work in progress.

Was taken out in some sort of conveyance to another kennel-type establishment which smelled of weird, chemicals with just the faintest soupçon of fear. Odd sort of place but interesting 'cos there were another couple of canines in there, one who didn't speak the language well though he didn't say much and a brown puppy a month or so older than me who did nothing but yap at everybody. Annoying and shrill 'look at me' thing going on. I was suitably aloof keeping a watching brief as it were. In an adjoining room a complete stranger in a very un-fetching green outfit poked me about without so much as a 'by your leave' Oh she tried to ingratiate herself with me and the staff before manhandling me but I saw through the charade I can tell you. Gave her a piece of my mind and no mistake. I wasn't rude but firmly put her in her place. I will not be objectified, it's so last century! She didn't entirely get the message 'cos there was a brief point at which I got a sharp sting in the back of my neck. I couldn't see much but I'm sure she was behind it and me for that matter. I'll have to keep an eye on her, she seems a bit sneaky. Anyway the whole episode didn't last that long and we were back home in no time. The visit  has left me a bit weary so it's off to bed for me. Nighty night.

Puppy Bootcamp - Day 5

Seem to be settling into a routine and I've almost got the servants trained. They're remarkably intelligent once you understand their thought processes and respond well to reward. Failing that body language pretty much seals the deal. Here’s my cute with a hint of menace (note the partially revealed canine which I’ve kept needle sharp on the whetstone of the travertine paving).What do you think? 

I’m well on the way to finishing the initial stages of obedience training. 

I’ve trained them to provide me with a very varied diet and I’ve tried everything from house leeks (interesting but somewhat flavourless), mango (bit of a strange one but not unpleasant), spinach (yuuk), daytime dog biscuit (harder than the travertine) and last but not least, hydrangea flower (great fun but hardly a staple diet). So all in all the diet continues to be interesting and varied.

Still slightly phased by other bipeds in large quantities, four visited at the weekend, two adults (the male was huge, looked like an electricity pylon) and two pups. That was a bit overwhelming and I registered a vocal disapproval when the youngest pup was about to take a liberty. He backed off - no problemo! So life is good, days are interesting and night are…well nights.

Shock and Awe & Strange Noises

Well, that was surprise. One of the more regular visiting couples took me for a drive and didn’t bring me back. It was all a bit scary but they seem nice enough. I spent most of the day in their garden sampling the foliage some of which is quite tasty and some a bit rough. The flowers were yummy though. I’ve got a pen much like the one Mum’s servants put us in with a number of toys with no smell on them except what I take to be shop smell. I guess they’re new. There’s a bed which also smells of new too. It’ll take me a few days to stink them up a bit. There’s a weird pad that i guess I’m supposed to pee & pooh on but my accuracy leaves a bit to be desired and anyway I’m not too keen on being told what to do. If they stay nice to me I suppose I’ll have to make and effort.

The noises are all strange and a bit startling at first but I soon got used to them but every time I get used to one, another come along and sends me scuttling for the safety of the bed. Feeling a bit vulnerable in a new environment but the threat level is gradually changing hue from red to amber. Bit worried about my ears though, they seem to be going towards the elven which to be honest is not a good look. See here…

…I afraid if they stay up there like Yoda I’ll start talking.

Dropped off to sleep OK, missing my sis a bit, she was kinda warm at night. Woke up and it was pitch black but the maid came down and kept me company for while. When she disappeared again I made a bit of a fuss for a time but when it became obvious she wasn’t coming back I settled down and woke to find dawn just breaking and my tummy rumbling for breakfast. The butler was next to appear and after a brief swing out of that odd wiry coat he has grown on his face, I lay on his knee and went back to sleep for another hour or so. He was quite warm (oh no he wasn’t (Ed)) just like sis. Nice to know that the staff are so attentive. 

Ah well, tomorrow is another day.

Hello World, Goodbye Amniotic Fluid

The day is 11 July 2015. The time? How the hell should I know, I'm a dog and time means nothing to me. The only time I acknowledge is mealtime and my timepiece seems to be situated in my stomach which growls periodically and at that point I fill it with whatever is to hand, or mouth in our case.

I'm one of a litter of three, two boys one girl, so there's plenty to go round since mother is a good supplier of milk and it seems to be our job to job to drink as much of it as we can to stop her undercarriage dragging along the ground and wearing out her nipples. We're good at our job. In fact I think I'm the best followed by my brother with sister dearest bringing up the rear though you wouldn't think it to hear the little fishwife. Luckily we were all deaf for the first couple of weeks but when that wore off her grumbling started and it hasn't stopped. God but she's a trial. Girls eh? Boys you can just beat the shit out of but girls they're a whole different case and something stops us guys from being too rough.

Mum's servants seem driven to introduce us to as much new sensation as possible which is something of a pain when all we want to do is eat, sleep and chew the crap out of each other but mainly sleep. This growing stuff is tiring. All the visitors pick us up, hold us to their faces and breath in. Then they make strange sounds and bear their teeth like they are going to take a bite. They don't seem to follow through which is good. Sometimes the same ones come back. I can tell because of their scent. One pair have been 3 or 4 times, mauled us around a bit and then left. I have no idea what that's all  about.

A few days ago we were all lined up, someone pointed a tube at us and there was a sharp click and our humans all made strange cooing noises as they looked at something. I have no idea what was going on but this seems to be the result.

Photo: David Whiteman

That's me in the middle with the elephantine ankles, though I'd have to say that Sis is not doing too badly in the pudgy stakes.Triple cute eh? Wait 'til you feel the teeth. They're shaaaarp.

Getting tired now and need to feed and have a sleep. Mum's not so keen on feeding us now our teeth have come through but her servants give us some strange mushy white/red stuff which is not as easy to swallow as milk so we have to chew it to get it down. Good job we've been practising on each other for a while! Tastes pretty good though and doesn't squeal like the bro when I bite into it. 

Not sure why but I have a strange sense of impending doom. Still tomorrow is another day. Toodle pip for now.