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.