Snake wrestling and flying asparagus

Here I am, back in my dog bed and quite clearly in deep disgrace. If Ashley Cole and John Galliano think they’re having a bad week, they want to take a look in my corner of the kitchen.

It all started mid-week when I ate some of the front door after B and W accidentally shut me out of the house for 10 minutes. To Beard’s credit he actually found this funny. .. although this may have been helped by the fact that he and Kenny the Carpenter are currently working on plans for a new dog-proof front door anyway.

Weird was far less impressed, although I had also eaten her Blackberry cover the night before, which itself caused something of an over-reaction.

The real route to my downfall, however, began this morning, while I was helping B lay some new sandstone flags in the garden.  He was using the garden hose, which, being a five month old dog, I initially took to be a particularly large snake. As he is easily distracted from work of any kind, this resulted in a great game of ‘fight the hosepipe’, which the humans found so funny it even resulted in photos being taken (see below).

They’re not laughing now.

This afternoon, B had forgotten he was supposed to be watching me in the garden and went off to do something with the stone cutter.  W was in the kitchen, immersed in Jamie Oliver’s 30 minute meals and fretting over asparagus lasagne – so in all honesty, once I’d pulled up all the tulips I found myself at a loose end.

So I decided to take on the hosepipe for a second round of snake wrestling.  This time I just thought it would be better if I brought it into the house.

Talk about a sense of humour failure.  After much mopping, Beard and I jointly took the blame – in fact, he says we are both in the dog house.

All of which brings me to my interesting news stories of the week.

The first is about a woman in a Cardiff cake shop who went ballistic and cause £400 worth of damage because they didn’t have her favourite flavour of cup cake.

http://www.metro.co.uk/news/857135-cupcake-rage-as-customer-trashes-shop-for-not-having-favourite-flavour

And as for the second, both W and cake-woman might like to take note. Scientists have found that people  and animals with a happy and positive outlook live longer. Stress is really bad for you. 

As Beard said, just before the asparagus hit him: “Chill out dude!”

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/healthnews/8358535/Happiness-helps-you-live-longer-review-of-160-studies-concludes.html

If you look carefully, you can spot where I ate the front door!



Hold the front page - mad dogs and mousers

I really do love Melvyn Bragg.  In his newsletter this week:

“The unforced attention of a lovely dog can make your morning.”  

Otherwise, the world has gone mad.

And I’m not referring to revolution in the Middle East…  although I am mildly offended by the repeated description of Gaddafi as a ‘mad dog’.  (And mildly perplexed by Weird’s often -repeated comment that he looks exactly like her ex-husband in a woolly hat).

I am referring to it being a big news week for cats.  First of all Dave Cam’s PR machine made a desperate bid to divert us from the economic crisis of the century by installing Larry, to deal with an apparent rat infestation at Number 10 … very Dick Whittington.

Never thought of that did you, Andy Coulson?

Then the Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office hit the news for a second time by stealing the limelight from the ubiquitous Kevin Spacey, as he was presented with a Big Society award by Dave at an impromptu photocall. 

Next came the news of Smokey, the cat with the loudest purr in the world – an ear shattering 92 decibels (evidently the sound of a Boeing 737 coming in to land)  compared with the average 25. According to her owner, Mrs Adams from Northampton, Smokey’s favourite pastimes are ‘eating and sleeping on the window ledge.’  Well really.

Finally, and best of all, we hear that an ugly cat who scared potential owners because he looks like the Harry Potter villain Lord Voldemort, has finally found a new home.  You couldn’t make it up.

Actually, he really does look like Voldemort.  He makes Gaddafi look attractive.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/8337786/Ugly-Lord-Voldemort-cat-finally-finds-home.html

Snail snacks and sexism

Back to blogging at last after being so sick they let me lie on the furniture....

Rather ironically, one of my favourite snacks to date has been bark, so you can imagine how delighted I was a couple of weeks ago, to stumble across a so far-undiscovered tree stump in the corner of the garden. After spending half an hour stripping the bark , I made a thrilling new culinary discovery - snails!

Apparently all of the snails in the garden had decided to over-winter in this precise spot. And how delicious they were. I knew I had to move fast and there were about twelve left when Weird found me in mid-scoff, but by then I had eaten quite a lot more than that, shells and all.

I won't go into detail, but the consequences, as you may have guessed, were dire.

Anyhow, I am now up and about again, and have even made my debut at the University animal behaviour class, where Beard behaved like embarrassing dad at parents' evening.

In all honesty, I was doing really well until they handed out sausages to all and sundry.  I simply did a quick circuit of the room, collecting everyone else's sausages... which I put down to showing initiative, but apparently no one else saw it quite that way.

Prior to that, while ill and  lounging on the furniture, I was eagerly anticipating  the appearance of HRH Camilla on the Archers.  Sadly this was not to be.  I had forgotten for a moment that I was living in a radical feminist Marxist household, and as the familiar theme tune began, the radio was snapped off with alarming vigour. 

Which leads me to an interesting incident.  I joined Weird and Skydiver Liz (who are rabid campaigners for equality- and  from my point of view would be more at home at Greenham Common than on the Cow Field) on a long walk yesterday.  After much heated debate, the conversation turned to the animal behaviour class.

Weird:  "It's amazing. The behaviourist says that after ten minutes of mental exercise, he will be as exhausted as if he'd been running for an hour".

Skydiver Liz: "Well he is a bloke, after all".

Biting bums and saving lives

I spotted an interesting piece of news today. It seems that millionaire pet boutique owner Andrew Saville-Edwards has had to cough up over a thousand pounds after his long haired Weimaraner, Jazz landed him in court.

Jazz’s crime was shoving his nose up a jogger’s shorts in Kensington Gardens and biting her on the buttock.  Apparently she couldn’t sit down for days.

If you ask me, Mr Twiddly Bumbag-Smith got what he deserved, if only for owning ‘Pet Pavilion’, which caters for London’s celebrity dogs and sells Japanese herbal dog shampoo along with Swarovski crystal collars – not to mention running dog yoga classes.

Although the best has to be dog umbrellas....yes really.

A very different world from mine, where I have been out in gale force winds and rain for most of the day and am currently in trouble for eating half a bag of builder’s sand.

Back in the real world, I’m feeling a little inadequate after reading about Shirley the medical detection dog in today’s Telegraph. If her seven year old owner’s blood sugar levels fall, Shirley springs into action and alerts the family.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/8309298/Amazing-dog-smells-diabetic-emergencies.html

I am training myself to raise the alert if Beard slips into a coma. It’s quite simple. I just count the number of cans of Stella and once it gets up to six I start biting his feet.

Murder most horrid

In my dog bed, keeping well out of the way following yet another human over reaction.

After going on DEFCON Level One alert after the spectacles incident, Weird put every vaguely edible item in the house out of my reach.

So what was I to do? I had a mooch around the front garden and found an extra-bouncy new toy that squeaked when I stood on it. After a while it stopped bouncing and squeaking, so I ate it.

And so Frog Murder has now been added to my long list of crimes.

An amusing follow up though, as Beard got up three times in the night to make sure I hadn't died.

W, who clearly had no interest in my potential poisoning, said she ate a frog dinner when she was starving in remote China and it didn't do her any harm... which made me wonder if that's just a smidgen hypocritical for someone who claims to be a vegetarian? 

Bet if it I'd fried it in butter and garlic she wouldn't have complained.

Out of sight, out of mind

I am a bad dog.

Worse than that... according to Weird, I am a "little sneak".

This major over-reaction from the humans arose because I was bored this morning and, without really thinking it through, I ate Beard’s spectacles.

Specifically, I ate Beard’s spectacles when he needed them TO WATCH THE RUGBY.

On a positive note this means that while W is upstairs working I can do pretty much what I like, because B can’t see me.

Result.

Postscript:  Beard took me to the Cow Field this afternoon. Guess who he bumped into?

EVERYONE!!!!!!

Well it made me laugh.

Canis Invictus

I am invincible.

I have returned to the Cow Field.

Weird is back in London and Beard, beset with worry that my confidence and friendly demeanour would be damaged by last week's incident, took me back there this morning.

I admit I wasn't hugely keen - I fell for his latest trick and followed a sausage trail.

It wasn't long before rabid Bono made an appearance. It seems his human has taken Beard's advice and now has him firmly attached to a leash. This gave me a fantastic opportunity to get up close and snarl menacingly as we walked past.... growling inside my head:

My name is Bouncius Maximus
Commander of the dog armies of the North
General of the puppy legions
Loyal servant to Pedigree Chum
Faithful companion to Beard and Weird
And I will have my vengeance

In this life... or the next.

Grrrrr. Forget the zen thing. When I am a bit bigger that hairy b*****d is toast.

You talkin' to me?