And it's goodbye from me......

I am writing this from doggie heaven.  I thought something was up, when the ham started up again.  Then the weeping and wailing. Two nice ladies came to our house and I fell asleep and woke in heaven.  Just like that.  Painless. I am so sorry that I didn't get a chance to bark a fond farewell to Mollie, Charles, Trixie, Belle of Ewell, Benson, Ella, Cindy, Morgan, Razz and Abi. 
Don't cry Mummy - I'm OK now. I am running in the sunshine like I used to when I was young.  I am in the parks you used to take me to - Richmond, Nonsuch, Bushey and Epsom Downs - it's just that you cannot see me. I am chasing rabbits and squirrels and there are tripe sticks everywhere.
Your two old dogs, Moss and Bella have been showing me the ropes on how to avoid Barbara Woodhouse.  I've also met Ruaridh who flew in from The Isle of Man and Bonnie Fogg. Brenda your Mum was also here to welcome me.  Here, I can have steak whenever I desire, I can eat my own vomit should I wish to, without getting into trouble (why was that a problem Mum?).
I know you've been thinking of letting me come here for some time now and I am happy to be here - honestly.  I shall miss you Mum and Dad but it had to happen.  Do not blame yourselves, we had a great time together.

I believe I was sent to you, to try your patience and you both passed with flying colours - especially you Mum!  I am sorry I could be such hard work at times, especially at the end but I always loved you both. Please apologise to Ava Docherty for me - it was nothing personal.  I hope I haven't put her off dogs forever.  I was old and tired and originally came from a broken home when I was almost two.  I left you when I was ten days shy of sixteen.  Not bad going Mum.  I think my mate Benjy may also be on his way up here.  Don't worry Anna, I promise to take care of him.
I'll check in with you every so often to see that you're both OK.  I know there'll always be a place in your heart for me but replace me in the fullness of time.  Give another rescue dog a loving home - he/she will want for nothing.
Well, I can't stay here writing to my fan base.  I have a new heavenly blog to create.  Thank you for giving me a loving home for fourteen years and always try to remember my good points and my loyalty.  Until we meet again ..... your loving Taffy Lloyd.

Snoop Dog

Meet Snoop - I haven't but you can.  Last week, when I had been deserted once again, SWMBO went to a wedding in Plymouth, wherever that may be.  Hang on hang on!  I think they collected me from Plympton 14 years ago.  I wonder if it's nearby.  Anyway, she met some lovely people apparently, who were trying to get their dog fixed up with a hunky  dog like me.  And what a lovely bit of stuff she turns out to be. She looks very grand on her lounger, showing off her bits.  I'll woof you what, if I was 92 years younger . . .  . .  . she could have had me.  I think she comes from quite a posh background.  Take a butcher's at that decking area.  Looks like she's about to have some barbecued food delivered to her any moment now, in the shade of a fine Fatsia Japonica.  And that's not the only thing I admire about this pooch.  She can read!  Oh yes, take a look.

Granted, the TV Times isn't exactly what you'd call high-brow but hey - I'm impressed.  I guess this could be called online dating.  I really like the cut of her jib.  I saw her first Scottie.  I know you are a J. R. too but I get first sniff of this lady! My Dateline ad would go like this:- Mature, red head (and body) with GSOH and incredibly sharp teeth - if somewhat brown now, would like to meet a furry friend for long romantic walks in the woods and spaghetti meals, a la Lady and the Tramp.  Cats need not apply. Whaddya think Snoop my sweet?

Hello there. Remember moi?

No it's not me but SWMBO hasn't taken any decent photos lately.  She dropped their camera on a boat recently and it hasn't been right since.  I am going to have to rack my brain to remember what's been happening in these here parts.  I don't think I have blogged since before they went away and left me for 16 days.  A very nice lady came to live here with me and we got along just fine and dandy.  Her name was Mich and she left her dog Boo in Derby with a friend, in order to look after me, which was very nice of her wasn't it? I did meet Boo once before and things didn't go too well.  I try not to think about it.
Anyway, we had a nice time together and with my folks away, I thought I'd show her the ropes.  I distinctly remember hearing SWMBO telling my new carer, that if anyone comes to the door, I was to be put in the garage.  A few days after mum and dad left me to the mercy of Mich and went off to have a good time in a place called America, I had the chance I had been looking for, for some years now.  Another human came to stay called Hopey and I heard her ordering an Indian takeaway on the telephone.  This takeaway was to be delivered and I saw my opportunity to stamp some dog authority about this kennel.  I pretended to be asleep but I was listening out for the doorbell and when I heard it, I sauntered up to the door as if I was going to be friendly.  As soon as the door was opened - I went for the leg I saw before me.  Ha ha!!  That'll teach him.  Spread the word my friend, no one messes with me at my front door.  I have humans to protect.  I like a bit of curry.
Soon afterwards it was back to just me and Mich.  The days dragged/flew by (depending on who's telling the story) and one Monday, Mich walked me to the park.  Another fine opportunity presented itself.  Two in a week, what a lucky dog am I? Bin man day.  I don't think mum warned her about men pulling bins or trollies, as I'm usually transported in the car.  Not wanting to let the side down, I did what should have been expected of me and I bit the bin man.  Yes, I did it on purpose and yes he had holes in his trouser leg.  I wasn't messing.  I am top dog of my dogdom and don't mess with me.  Mich was mortified - can't understand why though.  She should have felt protected against this marauder.  She has much to learn my friends.
Eventually my folks returned and I was pleased that I could retire again and let them be in charge of security.
More recently, my mum had to go away without me again.  This time she left Dad with me.  Now I don't want to tell tales, but Dad may have forgotten how often I need to go to the outdoor bathroom (OK - garden) Well he soon remembered when I left him a smelly calling card in their bedroom.  I tried to arouse him but he sleeps very soundly.  The aroma did the trick though and he was soon up and about busily cleaning up after me.  The next day, for variation, I did it on the stairs.  Again, it got him out of bed.
For a change of scenery, he took me to see his friends Joyce and Harry.  I haven't been over there for some time.  Dad was doing a little job in the lounge, when I did a little job of my own.  It wasn't my fault.  A pesky C A T  dared to enter Joyce's garden without my permission.  And where was I? On the wrong side of the glass window that's where!  I was frantic to get to that C A T and the poo left me without my permission.  Anyway, they didn't seem to mind, so I was most surprised when I was unceremoniously packed off to the boot of Dad's car, where I went to sleep whilst they finished their refreshments.  (I was obviously not included in this hospitality)
Oddly, when Mum came home from wherever she'd been, she was all over me like a rash - more so than usual.  I'm not sure what was going on but when they were talking, mum started crying and cuddling me more.  I lapped it up of course, pretending I wasn't bothered.  They kept mentioning that someone was coming on Friday and asking the question, 'Is it too early?'  It cannot be anything to do with me I'm sure.  However something strange is going on because I have been given lots of ham which is still within its sell by date.  Very odd don't you think?
Odder still - I keep hearing the word 'Reprieve'.  I don't know what it means but coincidentally, the ham has stopped coming and nor did the stranger arrive today.  What could this mean dear reader?  Well I can't stay up writing much longer, I have to go and look appealing in case there's any dinner left on Dad's plate. Ta Da.

Goodbye to Foxy and her friends

Hello friends, I know I haven't blogged much of late but I sleep for most of the day now.  However, recently I had a couple of doggie pals over and I didn't sleep a wink all afternoon.  In the first picture, you'll see yours truly and Ruby in the background.  Ruby came over to see me with her housemate Molly.  They hadn't been here before but you've seen their photos on my blog previously.  Their owners Karen and Bob brought us all a nice chewie - see photo - and we all got a toy each.  By the end of the day, Reynard had taken both a chew and a cuddly toy.  I make no apologies for the amount of photos but they help to set the scene.
SWMBO has been feeding the foxes and this has made her unpopular with the neighbours - not to mention me!  Karen was happy to see them in our garden and took some pictures, which I am sharing with you now.

Sorry, but I wanted you to see this one first!

Now in this one, can you see the fox and also its reflection in the mirror?  That Karen is good with a camera, unlike SWMBO (See previous photos in this here blog.) Ruby's blissfully unaware.  Onto the next one.

Can you see Foxy to the right of the Buddha statue?  She's watching Molly.

And if you look closely at this snap - but not too closely at the huge polka dots my mum is sporting - you'll see Foxy tormenting me and Ruby on the lawn.  Note also my stylish nappie.

This is just before the appropriation of a cuddly toy.
Now, the reason there are so many fox photos on a dog's blog, is because this cute looking fox is now forbidden to be fed or entertained in our garden.  You see, last Friday, this fox or her pals, became murderers. They killed the neighbour's two lop-eared rabbits in front of their children, in their garden.  SWMBO has been asked to stop all feeding of said foxes forthwith.  Shame really, because it kept her amused and off the streets.  They must be hungry now.  They used to get my dinner when I left it and other scraps and some slices of dog meat.  But no more.  I am reclaiming my dogdom.  Want one more snap? Oh all right then.

SWMBO took this one through the kitchen window.  (N.B. the beautiful clematis she is saying.)
Suffice it to say, I was Kerry Packered when they'd all gone home. I slept all night through.  My routine has changed somewhat of late.  I am now aroused from my slumbers at the ungodly hour of 05:51 hrs.  I am let out into the garden and I stand around wondering why I am there.  Then 45 minutes later, I am taken in the car to Surbiton.  I am marched up and down the street until I am empty - literally - and then put back in the car.  SWMBO clears off for and hour and a half and then comes back to march me up and down the pavement again before returning home at 08:30 hrs.  I then get a proper walk with Benson.  I think she may have gotten herself a job.  At first when she left the house that early, I used to bark and holler and keep my Dad awake until she returned home.  I didn't do that when she was in full time employ but I thought I'd liven things up a bit around here. My Dad sleeps too much anyway.  (They are her words not mine dad.)  And funnily enough I don't mind being in the back of the car.  I settle down nicely.  I had to do a pooh in there one day, which wasn't very good but I couldn't help it.  And yesterday I did one in the bedroom before we left for work.  I don't know what's happening to me. I wouldn't dream of doing this when I was young.  I seem to have lost my confidence walking down the stairs too.  I need help, otherwise I go too fast and fall at the bottom.  I seem to be getting extra cuddles which is nice.  And the food's improved recently.  Should I be worried?
So!  Say goodbye to the fox!

Slaughter In Stoneleigh

Hello again.  Long time no bark. I am about to tell you about a very sad day in my garden yesterday.  This is Benji - you may remember him being the substance of a previous post on this here blog.  Well, Benji is coming to stay with me in the summer for a few days whilst his folks go and have a good time without him, somewhere too hot for a pooch to go. He visited us to see if standards were up to his expectations.  I think they may have been but he doesn't know yet, that he won't be allowed on the furniture.  Well, if I'm not - then surely he's not.
My mum has a tendency to feed every wild creaure or bird that comes into our garden.  She had just put out the seeds and bread for the birds when Benji arrived.  His owner, Aunty Anna warned SWMBO that he chases birds but my mum didn't take her seriously, Benji not being a young pooch.  Well, look at the photo dear reader.  He looks quite pleased with himself don't you think? None of us heard anything and there was no corpse either.  I can only imagine there's a hairless pigeon flying round these parts.
I was kind of impressed in a macabre sort of way, since I have never caught a pigeon.  I killed a rabbit once but we never talk about that.  SWMBO refuses to believe I could be capable of such a massacre.  (But I am - or rather, used to be.)  I almost catch the foxes that beseige our garden on a daily basis.  They think I'm old but I still chase them away.  One, a vixen has the audacity to chase ME down my own garden when she thinks I'm not looking.  She actually snapped at my back legs.  The result of this, is that I now have a garden escort in the evening, to level the playing field so to speak.  I don't need the back up but I let them think I do.

This is the vixen, having just had a drink from the bird bath.  We're all waiting for her to bring her babies into the garden but for different reasons I suspect . . . . . .

Meet Stanley

It has been brought to my attention that the last photograph on this blog was unsightly and needed changing. Thank you Bertie Foster.  Let me tell you about Stanley.  This is he.  Stanley came to stay with us for two weeks after his mum died.  It will be her funeral tomorrow and Stanley is making an appearance.  He was taken to the groomer's on Monday to tart him up a bit.  Looks cute doesn't he?  But he had a bit of a possessive nature to be honest, especially around food.  I put it down to the fact that he was spoiled rotten (as all dogs should be).  And also that he had become an orphan.

Whilst he was with us, he had an enormous bed and it had hidden chewies in the folds of the blankets and if I got too close, he would should me his gnashers.  When SWMBO tried to get him out of his bed for a walk - he would take her on.  She feebly upended his bed to avoid confrontation.  One day he poohed all down the stair carpet.  Another day he was sick in two piles on the dining room carpet.  When SWMBO went to clear up the mess - he went for her - as he was guarding the vomit - probably to eat it again later.

We weren't cross with him because it was all so new to him and he was wondering where his mum was.  In the park, he went up to every lady dog walker, hoping it was his dear owner Pat.  My mum said it was heart wrenching.  We tried to make his stay with us as happy as possible and we wish him well.

My other mum and dad - Val and Eric offered to give Stanley a new home but  he is to be flown to California very soon and live the rest of his canine days in the sunshine with two Bassett hounds and a couple of cats.  He will be flying 'Virgin' and apparently will take up temporary residence in the cabin crew's down time quarters.

Remember Austin?  Well the sad news is he's become almost blind very suddenly.  Goodness, this is a sad journal today.  I on the other hand am fighting fit - regardless of what they say.  SWMBO now has a job, so when she leaves early in the morning, I bark and bark until she gets back.  This seems to displease my Dad for some reason.  I think he should get up at 06:45 hrs as he's missing the best part of the day.  He disagrees oddly, so today I was put in the car and stayed there until my mum had done her job and then drove me home.  I'm happier in the car and I don't bark.  Anyway, she's on Easter break now, so we can all have a lie in again.

Austin speaks out

Hi - or Yaki-Da as we say in Wales. I have been up to my paws in it this week, so have offered Austin a voice on my blog.  Well as Andy Warhol once said, every dog will have their 15 minutes of fame - so here's Austin's. I hope you understand his Scottish accent.

Unaccustomed as I am to speaking in public, I am looking forward to this. I will try to speak with an English accent and there'll be no Glaswegian handshakes from me either because I am from The fine Highlands of Scotland. For the last two weeks I have been taken out in the afternoon by a new woman and her old dog Taffy - who has lent me space on his blog.  I'm feeling rather neglected by my owners, because I don't have a blog - yet! May I start by saying that I wouldn't have chosen this photograph?  I am about to perform a very private function, so why did she take a shot of me whilst so engaged?  Humans!!
We have been walking around my 'hood' and I have been pointing things out to this woman and Taffy and we have met lots of people and other hounds with much news and gossip.  Everything had been going well until yesterday when she was late.  I kept my eye on the clock on the microwave oven in the kitchen and as soon as it was 14:31 Hrs. I began to worry she wasn't coming. Each minute that went by had me wondering whether I had upset her yesterday.  Had I slobbered on her clean jeans too much?  Had I not welcomed her enough when she arrived? Had I spread too much mud on the kitchen floor?  Who knew? 
Eventually she turned up at 15:00 Hrs.  About time too.  My worry subsided and a slightly sulky air came over me.  Granted she looked FABULOUS, having been at the hairdresser's but I would have preferred her to come on time in muddy jeans, hair scraped back and without a scrap of makeup - like she normally does. Anyway, moving on - it was a sunny day and off we went down the road and she puts on her sun shades. She was possibly trying to look cool but she was more shabby chic - with the emphasis on shabby.  The shades were faux Gucci and looked to me as though they had been purchased from an African national in a market in Tenerife!
I just love Thursdays round here because it's recycling day and everyone leaves their plastic bins out for the contents to be taken away and recycled.  Whilst Taffy's owner was fiddling around with what looked like a portable cassette recorder (yes, she's that old), I managed to have a pee in a neighbour's green bin.  What a relief and if they have a dog, I've sent a clear message to that hound - It's My Road - OK?  the woman quickly pulled me away and had a quick look to see if anyone had seen but I think we got away with it.  Then Taffy wanted to cover it and he was practically lifted off his paws.  Now I cannot reveal the address of this misdemeanour, for fear of stigmatization of my pack - so please don't ask.
Talking of addresses, all the houses in my street could be described as 'Des Res' and they have names such as 'Rough Jenkin', 'Roquebrune' and I even saw a galloping major pull up inside the grounds of 'Brigadoon'. Yes, we're quite refined here in this part of Surrey dontcha know?
I mentioned that it was sunny yesterday but the road is still wet and fairly muddy, so we had to go through the paw cleaning ritual. For dogness sake, what is it with my paws?  They all want to clean them and I hate it.  Well this one's a push over.  I only have to growl and bark and she gives in.  The consequence of this is, she has to clean the kitchen floor before she leaves.  I'm not sure it's in her job description but she'd rather do that than upset me.  Suits moi!  She pretends she's not afraid and says she's only doing it so my mum, who's had a long hard day at work - doesn't have to come home and do it.  So my final memory before I doze off to sleep, is one of her on all fours, wiping my footprints away with my mum's J cloths. Such is life. That's it folks.  Hopefully Taffy will let me have a few more words at a later date. Byeee.....

Adorable Austin

Who's this fine fella you're thinking aren't you? This is another new pal of mine and his name is Austin. May I say here and now, that he is streets ahead of Scottie - you may remember dear reader that Scottie lost my new tennis ball - more about him in a minute. My Dad calls Austin,  'Vauxhall' - his little joke - but Austin wasn't amused.  He's heard them all before.  Apparently 'he has the refined lines of an old Austin Healey' . Austin has a beauty spot on his nose and I like him a lot.  We seem well suited in age and trot around South Godstone like we own the land.  There are so many other dogs in the area and they all bark incessantly as we pass.  We ignore them. (Well, I can't hear them actually but Austin told me.) Of course, being a Gordon Setter, his Scottish accent took a little getting used to but we communicate well now.
The first time I met Austin, when we were out walking, he spotted a little plastic bag in the hedgerow.  SWMBO thought someone had dropped a pooh bag but Austin honed in on it and started to eat it. There followed a tug of war and Austin won hands - sorry - paws down.  There must have been food in that bag but he didn't share it with me.  Ever since then, SWMBO has taken an unnatural interest in his pooh and any rubbish lying around the roads. I might just say that there is very little debris lying around near where Austin lives.  It's the poshest road I've ever been walked in. My mum was worried Austin wouldn't be allowed out with us again but his bowel movements seem not to be affected and he seems to like it when we arrive for walkies.
Talking of pooh, I let my owners have a sleep in this morning and didn't wake SWMBO until about 6.30 am.  I stared at her and shook myself until she awoke.  She let me outside and we came back in and back to the bedroom.  Just as she got comfy in bed again, HWMBO said, 'I can smell pooh'.  So SWMBO jumped out of bed again - yes, you guessed it - right into one of my little parcels.  When a dog's got to go - a dog's got to go.  I settled down for more slumber, whilst she scrubbed the carpet with something foul smelling.  If HWMBO hadn't said anything, she could have carried on sleeping.  Don't blame me!
Later in the morning, I was helped into the car and off we went to collect Scottie.  We walked in the muddiest place on earth.  It was a different, new place alongside The Hogsmill river.  I had to do another pooh and lost my balance - and sat in my own mess. Please don't laugh - she made me get in the cold river to clean it off my feathers.  Scottie did his usual disapperaring act for about 10 minutes and when it was time to go home, he was so muddy, she put him in the boot of the car before me.  Bad move.  When I went to get in, he bit me.  BIT ME - IN MY CAR.  He was taken out and put on the back seat and I got back into my own space.  I was bleeding.  And he owes me a ball (Have I mentioned that already?) So, as you can see, Gordon Setters are a whole lot nicer than J. R's.
When Austin and I are finished our walk, I get back into my car space and SWMBO takes Austin inside to clean his paws.  Well he doesn't like it and growls and barks.  She's such a wimp that she jumps out of her skin and lets him have a drink of water, thereby wetting the floor somewhat. Then she cleans the floor (Not very well actually) in preference to upsetting Austin. He's very clever too.  He told me that when he scratches a particlular door in the kitchen, it is usually opened by a humanoid and gravy bones are fed him.  But in case his mum is reading this - he only gets 2 and he wants you to know - It's not enough!! Well it's back to sleep for me.  Waking up in the middle of the night makes me so tired and weary and with all this extra walking.... I'm done in.

Meet My New Mate Scottie

Once, when I had full hearing, I'm sure I heard SWMBO say that she thought she could be a good photographer.  You decide dear reader.  I think I could have done better. This body belongs to Scottie.  I had never met him before but I quite liked his frisky attitude displayed when we were walking together this morning.  He reminded me of when I could gallop all over.  We collected him from his house and walked to The Hogsmill River (world famous I understand - more of which later.)   He was kept on the lead until he got used to us and then SWMBO got brave and let him go with a brand new tennis ball.  Well, that didn't last long.  That dog owes me a ball.  He kept going missing for short periods of time, which apparently seemed likes hours to herself. 

When her nerves could take no more, he was hooked up for the last part of the hour long walk.
Now may I remind you I am 15 and a half years old and I had already been out with Benson to the little park?  Thought I was going to put my paws up and get a little bit of shut-eye at Ben's house but we were off again pretty quickly to meet Scottie.  SWMBO is going to be walking Scottie a few times, whilst his normal (yes, I meant that!!) dog walker is on holiday in somewhere called Florida.

Well if there was ever a misnomer, surely Scottie is one.  He's a Jack Russell Terrier yet called a Scottie dog.  Makes no sense to me.  Cute though - in a masculine sort of way you understand. The camera clicked a few more times and eventually Scottie sat still for SWMBO.

Look at the shadow - hopeless!  This is the creature who lost my new ball.  Don't be fooled by his cuteness.  I told him under my dog breath that he'd have to replace it.  Anyway, it was a glorious sunny day and she was camera daft.  However the fox in a field was too far away and the heron saw me coming, so she didn't get any shots of those.

The Hogsmill - you thought I'd forgotten didn't you?  Well I had to listen to it all during the walk, so why shouldn't you be bored out of your brains too?  William Holman Hunt lived in Ewell and he painted The Hireling Shepherd and The Light of the World from a backdrop along The Hogsmill river.  His pal - another Pre-Raphealite artist, (don't ask me - I'm only the dog in the story) John Everett Millais also painted Ophelia from the bank of the river. His model, Elizabeth Siddal was actually sitting in a bath in his London studio, where she got a bad cold.  Not surprising really. It's said to worth £30 million dog bones now.  Why am I telling you this?  Well as we were rambling along, she was waxing lyrical about all the history stuff and how lucky we were to be walking in such famous footsteps.  Yawn Yawn.  All I could think of, was that the humble Tesco carrier bag had obviously not been evident at the time of the paintings but that was all I noticed today, along with empty beer cans and other detritus which smelled lovely!!

I'm a contortionist dontcha know

Doesn't everyone sleep like this?  Why they thought it funny I can only hazard a guess.  I happen to like my bottom sticking up in the air when I go to sleep.  To laugh would be cruel.  Guess which two couldn't get to sleep laughing at me.  To make matters worse they took my photograph.  Can a dog get no peace around here?
SWMBO is back on this fitness thing again.  My walks seem endless when she's on a health kick.  I'M OLD.  Benson runs around like he's just been released from Bedlam and I just try to keep up.  I have started to follow the wrong people in the park.  Of course this is just a ruse to make her come and get me.  Well, she wants the exercise! I trot off in the totally wrong direction and it's hilarious to hear her huffing and puffing to try and catch up with me and my new leader. She thinks my eyes are going and are cloudy but it's my little joke.
SWMBO went out for an hour tonight and when she came back, she smelled strongly of eau de Charlie, eau de Molly and eau de Trixie, Belle of Ewell.  So I went into the garden and came back smelling of eau de Reynard.  I was promptly put in the shower stall for my efforts.
Talking of foxes, I think it must the mating season because every time I go out, there are two of them in my territory and they are very vocal.  I see them off and they come straight back into the garden.  My owners then spend ages watching their antics when they could be pampering moi.  Humans!

I'm trying to forget Christmas

Woofy New Year to my readers ~ somewhat belatedly I confess.  Well, I have been reluctant to write here for a number of reasons but have decided to get things off my hairy chest.  Christmas 2010 will probably be my last.  In fact if certain people had their way ~ I would not be here writing this today.  More of which later. Now I know you all think I'm sweetness and light but if I'm to be honest, I do have my moments.  I do not like children.  There - I've woofed it.  It's out there in cyberspace for all to read.  SWMBO has gone to great lengths to avoid any little person under the age of about say - 12, or thereabouts - coming into my territory.  I'm not used to them d'you see?  But every now and then, it's not possible and I must come into contact with them.  Now please don't think I'm savage because I'm not.  I just give out little warning shots but you have to understand, I can only do it with my teeth and my bark.  I guess you're already one step ahead in my story aren't you?
Last year I had a nice quiet Christmas with my foster folks, Val & Eric in Molesey.  This year my little pack went to Torquay for some sea air on the south coast.  It was a long car journey down there and I'm not a great traveller - even though SWMBO sat in the back with me.  I refuse to go to sleep and I have to watch to see that we're going in the right direction.  (HWMBO has no idea re. directions.) Anyway, by the time we got there, I was a little tired and very hungry.  So I really didn't need a cuddle from a small humanoid called Ava - 22 months.  Everyone sat up for their meal except me and Ava and as she lurched towards me, I told her off.  I didn't mean to catch her eye and her cheek.  I was just telling her to leave me alone.
Well, pandemonium ensued.  Ava was taken to hospital  and I never saw her family again for two days.  SWMBO was in tears and there was talk of going home before the holiday had even started.   I'm not sure whether this was because I'd snapped at Ava or because the dinner wasn't up to scratch.  Who can tell? The vet's name was mentioned but HWMBO said he wasn't to come.  For some reason, if the vet had come, my mum would have been very unhappy all over Christmas.  Not sure why.  All I do know is that for the rest of the week, when I was in the house and there were children around - I was muzzled.  I was even walked around on my lead indoors.  I tried to be friendly to everyone after that but I think my goose was cooked, so to speak. (Not that I got any goose this year!) The good news is that I didn't break her skin and no medical was needed.  However, my little secret was now exposed and I was doga-non-gratis thereafter.
The walks by the sea were nice though and I always like to visit my cousin Eddy.  She's getting on like me.  I'm not at all sure we'll meet again.  Overall though, it wasn't a great Christmas - considering it may have been my last.  Lady Blockley even popped in the day before we came home.  She did a pooh in the kitchen, so not to be outdone, I did one the next day in a similar spot.  Couldn't help it. They were all taking so long to get ready for our walk.
I'm sorry if this blog entry is a little downcast - not my usual bundle of laughs - but strange things are happening to me.  HWMBO says I'm well over 100 in human years.  That sounds very old doesn't it? Well, I shall savour each day and treat each one as my last because one day it will be. Good night!