July / August 2017

A French Bath……. We’ve had visitors and that means I have had to have a bath rather than regale them with my natural perfume. This bath is outside and after the mother and father of all thunderstorms it filled up with rain water. The Mrs suddenly had the idea to immerse me in what she said was an opportunity not to be missed, telling me the rainwater would make my hair soft and silky! I was not so keen to jump at the opportunity, as you can probably tell from my demeanour, and had to be persuaded to climb in and succumb to the shampooing, after which I was hosed down and allowed to get dry by chasing and retrieving tennis balls, a pastime I never tire of. The Mrs seemed quite pleased with her bath idea, but the Boss thought a swim round the lake would have done the job just as well…thankfully most of the water has drained away and the first thing I look at when I go out for my morning constitutional is whether or not it has been refilled in which case I distract the Mrs by picking up my lead and taking off at a brisk pace towards the lake.. I am not the only one here cursing the foul weather we have been experiencing….come back sun - no more French baths!!!

My fan base is broadening, not only did the miniatures visit but also relations from Australia. I have to say the Aussies were delighted with me and I received many compliments from them and several large bones which I did wonder if they had dug up as there was much mention of ‘down under’ but although I spent hours trawling the lawns for a hint of where they might have been digging I failed to find any clues. Rest assured I will keep sniffing…

June 2017

I have been reliably told by the miniatures that if I blow on to these dandelion seed heads I should be able to tell what the time is.  Whenever we go for walks there is always a mad rush to find a dandelion “clock”, pick it and then blow it all over the place while counting.  Basically, which is one of the miniatures recently learnt favourite words of the moment, basically, I don’t need to blow anything as the only interest I have in time is how far away from dinner we are which my tummy tells me by the amount of empty space therein and how many pats and tickles I can squeeze into one day.

If one miniature finds a ‘clock’ then the other miniatures must also find one or all hell breaks loose.  I have been told on many occasions to refrain from playing this game as every time I come across one and have a sniff to check it out the fluff goes straight up my nose, huge sneezes follow and seed clocks disperse faster than I can chase a stick, the miniatures all start crying and I am the least favourite dog in the vicinity.  

As you can see from this photo the inhalation and ensuing sneezes left bare heads and blew 1 o’clock through to 12 o’clock straight into the azure sky and the miniatures are at present racing around like lunatics trying to catch time!   Man, these kids play some weird games.  Give me a stick or a ball to catch any time but you just can’t get your teeth into this fluffy stuff.  The whole object of the game is defeated anyway when the Mrs looks at her wrist and says it’s time to go home – how does she know, when time is floating about all over the place?

May 2017

 Bonjour………  The Mrs is trying to teach me French again!  This is me attempting to say “saucisses” which apparently is “sausages” in french. The Boss said there used to be a dog on the TV that said “sausages” so I should be able to say it in french seeing as how much time I spend over there.  This seems to be a bit much coming from the Boss who’s knowledge of the language only seems to amount to ‘vin rouge’ before he turns to the Mrs to ask ‘what did he say?’.  I am having a bit of trouble  getting my tongue, which is very long you know, around some of the twisters in this language!  I think I will stick to the age old method of communication where I bark very loudly and just hope they understand!   Trouble is every time I try this out the Mrs gets very perturbed and insists I be quiet and listen very carefully, for she will only say this once, tais-toi, which apparently means I should close my mouth, sit down and not bark another word!  

It is unusual for me to voice my thoughts, most of the time I am very quiet and make my requirements known by snuffles, whines, the occasional snort and a variety of facial expressions which the Boss and the Mrs now know and immediately act upon, either opening the door for me, giving me dinner and patting my head for reassurance when I am unsure of something.  The Boss has adopted a few of my mannerisms, some which work for him regarding door opening and dinner but the head patting thing seems to work in reverse - only happening when he says the wrong thing - something I never do!!

April

This is my stoic look. I had to put up with decoration by ribbons. The miniatures came round and wanted to make me look beautiful. I tried to avoid them because I am already beautiful enough without the additions of frippery but the Mrs intervened and made me sit still for a bit so they could have their way. I ask you, what is a dog to do? Obey the Mrs and end up looking ridiculous or disobey the Mrs and end up in the dog house with the Boss? It lasted for about 15 minutes by which time I looked like a haberdashers shop and the miniatures became bored with that game and went on to something else, thank goodness. After I had divested myself of all the ribbons and bows I went and found my lead and gave that to them to see if they would put that on me instead which in turn would nudge them into taking me for a walk – that magic word which conjures up new smells and vistas to investigate.

After about the tenth time of offering the lead they eventually got the idea and it was put round me. The ensuing hilarity when I insist on carrying the other end myself was tempered with the Mrs insisting that each one of them had to take a turn in holding the other end as well, so I relinquished it into the hands of these inexperienced miniatures in the hope I would not be strangled. After four versions of being pulled, dragged and pushed (and that was just the miniatures as I walked very sedately, but they needed some assistance!) they eventually gave up and handed the end of my lead over to the Mrs who does not need any assistance as she can walk quite well, we managed to herd them all back to their respective homes and I could return to mine in relative peace. Goodness knows how sheep dogs manage their flock – four miniatures were tricky enough!

MARCH 2017

MARCH 2017

BERTS BLOG:   I know what you think - after my last blog post regarding my habit of marking my territory and leaving messages - however, I was not the culprit of knocking this tree over.  Although I may have inadvertently directed my three legged dance at this message post I had nothing at all to do with the fact that it fell into the lake. Despite the Mrs trying to make me feel bad and to curb my natural instincts while wearing my lead (which I am quite capable of carrying myself without the Mrs attached to the other end) I knew by the lack of scent that any message on this particular tree was not left by me!  In fact it was left by France’s version of storm Doris which we found had happened about three weeks before we arrived and what I class as my personal swimming sanctuary had eight trees blown down around it, two of which had fallen into the water and this was one of them.  Needless to say I was ecstatic never had I seen so many sticks laying around.  I was spoiled for choice and proceeded to run around collecting as many as I could to give to the Boss and Mrs who both promptly put them in a huge pile.  Was this some new hobby which I knew nothing about?  Disaster - they burnt all my new sticks.  Without a fur coat like me I assume they had to keep warm somehow but what a waste, especially as later in the week my new mate Frederique and his tractor arrived and pulled the fallen trees from the water, turned them into logs with his chainsaw and the pile grew so large that the Boss and the Mrs will never have to worry about keeping warm again and in future will hopefully leave my sticks ALONE!!

February

Ooops!  Made a big mistake at the Docs today!  There were so many lovely interesting smells that my nose went into overload and my bladder went into meltdown. Lots of my fellow canines had been there!  I was halfway through leaving my calling card, a generous puddle in the middle of the Docs surgery floor, when the Mrs, who had been chosen to bring me, realised what I was up to and had an attack of the vapours shouting NOOOOOOO – not here.  Do you mean to say I can’t leave a message to all my other mates who had been there and were obviously due back at some time.  How very unfair – they needed to know I had joined them in their unfortunate experience with needles, pills and that thing in my back which goes cheep every time we cross large amounts of water. The Mrs calls it a chip but I have yet to have any fish with it.  Anyway the Doc, who didn’t seem to mind about my ‘message’ to colleagues, hastily fetched a small cleaning bath on wheels and disappeared my puddle rather quickly so my presence there was obliterated within minutes - total anonymity!  The Mrs though, was a different kettle of fish (ha! to go with the chip).  I could see she had her ‘I am not amused’ face on which usually spells trouble but on this occasion she kindly let me reiterate my ‘message’ in a much more suitable situation once outside the Docs so at least some of my buddies will know I have been there.  I suppose I should apologise for mentioning this rather personal communication experience but believe me I am not embarrassed for you to read this.  The Mrs was however and on returning home she gave the Boss her own message - it was definitely his turn to accompany me on my next visit to the Docs.

January 2017

BERTS BLOG:  I know I permanently support a ‘chocolate’ fur coat but rumour has it there is going to be a cold spell so I thought I should try some of the Boss’s headgear to ensure my ears do not freeze in the arctic wind.  I think this one rather suits me, gives off a faintly Sherlock whiff while doing the job of keeping the ears warm.  Speaking of Sherlock – I was allowed in one evening to watch it but could not make head nor tail of it – neither could the Boss who gave up and resorted to loud snores from his corner.  It turns out the bird I thought was the most pleasant was a ghost, Dr Watson hasn’t got a bones chance in the garden of deducing anything, Sherlock goes barking mad having eaten too many doggy treats and Mrs Hudson should never be allowed near a vehicle, especially one without off road tyres and four wheel drive.  The gun!  I ask you – where did she get it – did she have a licence – what was the constabulary thinking of?  When I think of the hoops and checks the Boss has to go through to obtain any sort of firearm and definitely not a pistol I can’t imagine what sort of skulduggery the housekeeper has been up to.  Wouldn’t do for the Mrs to wield such deadly stuff, her worst weapon is the hoover which when occasionally wielded nearby tries to nip at my tail while I am tucked up in bed.  I usually wait for it to sweep round the rear of my basket then leap for the door to avoid a carefully wielded suction grooming - I need all the hair I’ve got at the moment to combat the snowy winter weather forecast – the hoover will just have to wait!  Happy New Year to all you K9 lovers, wrap up warm and keep on the move.