Merry Christmas

Hi everyone, it's Christmas!!! and mum has wrapped my present and placed it under the tree, she's so proud of her self for wrapping it without me noticing. Pft my nose knows everything, and I know it's a bone!, thanks mum can't wait.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Catch Up

Goodness it’s been a long time since I last blogged, and a lot has been going on. For one thing I’m 2 now, although I’ve aged, to mums relief I have not grown, and to everyone’s delight I’m sure, I haven’t matured either, my philosophy is that maturing is for cheese, not for dogs.

So back before my birthday a new kennel arrived in our back garden, it took the big’ns 3  days to construct it, but it’s starting to look like home inside it now, it has a sofa, carpet and some blinds. Pfft if you think I’m sleeping in it, I have a sofa and TV in the house, why would I swap. I think mum and I have come to an agreement that it’s mum’s kennel and she lets me in it sometimes.

I had a brief visit to the grandparents which was very nice, I had a chance to try out my new backpack mum made for me, I carried all my own stuff to Nana and Granda’s  but then on an outing when we got home, I managed to lose the Velcro fastenings in the river... take that silly backpack carrying own stuff thing!".

The next big event was meeting Nico, hmm, undecided on Nico, he seems nice enough but he  nipped my ears which I wasn’t too happy with. Besides puppies are over rated, ask mum, I’m just perfect.

Mum had a birthday and I got a present, not sure it's meant to work like that, but I'm not complaining. the present only lasted a week it’s now in bits and the stuffing is pulled out of the middle...next!

That’s it really besides accidentally hurting mums leg when I dropped a huge bit of wood on it, if she hadn’t shouted at me to stop digging on the sofa none of that would have happened, so squarely her fault I think. What’s the phrase, let “digging dogs dig” or some such thing. 

I’m currently seeing a girl – you know, on and off ,nothing serious, her name’s Mia and she’s also a black lab....and before you all go “ahhh” and put your head to one side the way humans do -  No there’s no chance of puppies! Were just good friends.

Looking forward to Christmas 

Grozny Dog Photo Shoot

Whilst mum was away on holiday (without me!) I was booked in for a photo shoot. I was very well behaved but didn't enjoy it much because I thought I was going to get to play with my ball, but I don't get the chance until it was all over. I have posted the images below:

FLEAS!

AHHHH! Yup that was mums face when she woke this morning and decided I had a small colony of refugees living in my fur. However on closer inspection, they had a bit of a population boom, and there was actually enough to fill a small continent. I can’t say I had noticed them except for the occasional itch behind the ear.

So I was quickly escorted outdoors, brushed and sprayed with flea killing stinky stuff which is not very nice, all of the house and contents were sprayed with de-flea-ing fumigating stuff too.

I’m now getting the silent treatment, I’m not allowed on the couch, In fact I’m not really allowed in the living room at all and every where I go mum follows me with a can of stinky spray stuff. Even my basket has been sprayed, nowhere is safe from stinky flea spray stuff.

Tonight was the final straw, mum decided that my fleas have evolved to be immune to flea spray so she bought a flea killer pill for me to take.,The pill  kills fleas in 24 hours. I don’t know what she intends to do with the pill, but I don’t intend on eating it. Earlier tonight there was a kerfuffle with the pill box, and then mum got the pork out of the fridge and gave me a bit. Apparently I have eaten the pill, yea right, I think she’s loosing it a bit, all I got was pork.

Anyway due to the lack of human affection I have taken to cuddling in with my ball at bed time, as I’m  not allowed upstairs either – stupid scratchy flea things pfft, their 24 hours are numbered!

Anything is better than a poke in the eye with a big stick

There is a saying around these parts, that anything has to be better than a poke in the eye with a big stick, well today, I tested that theory. I was minding my own business chasing my ball at the secret garden, when, unprovoked and from nowhere, a large stick monster jumped up out of the ground and attacked me, by poking me in the eye. unbelievable!

So as I sat around this afternoon hoping for my watery swollen eye to heal, I saw a member of the household cleaning his teeth, and I jumped up to see what he was eating. Mum thought this was a great opportunity to introduce me to my new toothbrush. You heard correctly, (sigh) a toothbrush for dogs, worse, for me! Mum orders all kinds of things like that from a magazine I call 'mad-mans monthly' also known as the Internet.

So there I was thinking things couldn't get any worse, when she put on 'doggy toothpaste' yuk! I have never tasted anything so disgusting. I could see this was disappointing to mum, she was excited about the new toothbrush, so I took pitty on her and led her through to the kitchen, then eagerly pointed out a jar of peanut butter on the second shelf. (he he he). Yes we got on a lot better with peanut butter on my toothbrush. I'm not sure where the cleaning potential comes in, but mum mumbled something about conditioning, and slowly getting me used to it or something like that. All I know is I was fed peanut butter from a bristly plastic stick, and that's got to be better than a poke in the eye with a big stick.

Sliced paw

Outdoor wearing a protective sock (mums)

Indoor bandaged

I Went for a walk today and came back limping. I don’t know how I did it but I have sliced a large hole in my paw pad. since then I have been limping about the house feeling sorry for myself. I have told mum that the pain only goes away when I sleep on her seat of the couch, but she is not buying it. 

From now on I'm going to wear my shoes when we go to new places. I have been told to rest and try and keep off it , until it heals.

On a good note I won the basket blanket battle with mum (see last post) Mum brought back my stinky blanket and it is now inside the new cover she made. This was because I refused to sleep in my basket until it was returned. She's way too soft.

Spring Clean

Good times old stinky blanket

Last weekend we had some great sunshine, so mum started on a spring clean, like a woman possessed, everything that was fabric and wasn’t tied down was hauled with no mercy in to the washing machine, and blasted by sunshine outside to dry.

All was well I thought as I sleepily padded around the house watching people being ordered around. So up to the bedroom to strip the bed of sheets to go into the wash. As I sat in my basket watching the madness unfold, she marches over to my basket and gestures for me to stand up and move. “What?, oh no it’s ok, my bed’s fine thanks, you carry on. No really it doesn’t need done, honest” the next thing I knew she had hold of the corner of my blanket and was prising it out from beneath me. She pulled it out to one side, held it at arm’s length and indignantly said “that stinks!”  “Thank you” I said “it’s good isn’t it.” Mum threw it in amongst the other pile of bed linen destined for the washing machine and said “it’s going out, I will get you a new one”.

“A new one! but you don’t understand, my blanket is like walking through the kitchen of a fine dining restaurant, it’s full of interesting smells and flavours. You sometimes take a book to bed to read before nodding off, well I do the same, I read my blanket. It’s like a personal diary of all the places I’ve been and things I’ve done. I sniff my way around the blanket remembering good times, like the beach and the time I went through the stinky puddle with my shoes on, before I drift off to sleep, you can’t erase it!”

The next thing I know I’m gently bobbing along the floor sitting on the washing pile as it is being dragged towards the door, “come on mum, be reasonable, reconsider”. As we headed down the stairs I was now in a full blown belly flop tantrum, laid full length on my tummy, pulling on the washing pile as I sledged head first down the stairs towards the laundry room. Nooooo Please!

As the washing pile was dragged into the laundry room, the door shut in my face, it was over. I could hear her wrestling with my blanket behind the door, various clunks, and clangs as she forced it against its will into the erasing machine. At one point I saw the shadow of her walking past the door window with a wooden stick to beat it into submission before the machine door finally shut.

She then opened the laundry door to see me sitting there, “don’t worry” she said “I will replace it with something nice that’s much easier to wash in future. 

I’m in a huff, I’ll be upstairs on your seat of the couch, sulking, do not disturb. Pfft

Not long after that, she appeared again, this time with a tape measure, “what now” I grumbled, “I’m in a huff, leave me be”.

I’m measuring you for a new bed “she said.

 “I don’t want a new bed, I want my old bed back”. Sure enough later that day a new pillow arrived for my basket. Fleece on one side for the winter and water proof on the other, and yep it has a removable washable cover. Life stinks! or rather it doesn’t anymore.