Puppies

I find puppies confusing. They are very bouncy, elbow-y and bits of them seem to always be escaping and getting behind you. Just keeping them in sight is a job and a half most of the time. I am much taller than puppies so it was a surprise this morning to find myself eye-ball-to-eye-ball with a sprightly Hungarian Viszler type of puppy. It was a moment or two before I realised it was standing on its hind legs and had me in a sort of bear-hug.

And then it was gone! Off down the path with legs flying out at all angles. I only remembered to growl when it was out of earshot, so it will never know until I see it again that I'M THE BOSS! Collies are always (ALWAYS) in charge! I refer people who doubt this to several episodes of 'Dog Borstal' and 'The Dog Whisperer' (although, strictly speaking, I disapprove strongly of both programmes) where experienced dog trainers freely and openly admit that they do not choose to live with collies because we (collies) are much more intelligent than them (dog trainers).

It's just as well that ST & FP understand about the collie-in-charge (CinC) thing. For instance, at lunchtime today FP stepped out of the loft straight into my rarely used upstairs bed and nearly broke an ankle on a jumbone I stashed there last Christmas. Now, putting aside the questions of why on earth the loft entrance is a foot and a half up a wall and why my rarely used upstairs bed is in the blessed way, what happened next illustrates perfectly the balance we have achieved as a pack:

there was no shrieking and writhing around in pain over the injured ankle but rather the focus fell on replacing the rock-hard, inedible 9 month old jumbone with a brand new one!

Yes, people, I think you'll agree that I rule and it seems to suit both ST & FP.

I bid you good day.

Chalk that one up to ME!

I've made a break through; yesterday in the park I managed to interrogate a squirrel about their plans for the take over of London. I had to chase the bushy-tailed critter half way across the park before I cornered it near a headless statue. As we were running a half-eaten snickers bar fell out of its grasp (I must find that Welsh bloke and give it back to him).

Now, I'm not a ruthless collie so I let the squirrel go after I'd got all the information I needed and I've passed on what I learned in a series of pee-mails. Eventually the leggy dalmatian will hear the news and the ex-police dogs will go to work.

Later on yesterday evening I snuggled up on the sofa where ST usually sits when he's watching TV and did some Paw Licking. In my opinion Paw Licking is one the best ways to spend your time. Paws pick up all sorts of smells as you go through the day and licking them activates the aromas. All people should note: don't disturb a dog when it's licking its paws. And don't kick them off your sofa either even if you had been sitting there just a moment ago. When you got up off the sofa and left the room you gave up all rights to that space.

Dropping off - yeah!

Thank goodness! This post - my 51st - means that the awful grimace/smile is gone from the front page. Phew! I'm still working on my smile and I make FP take lots of photos of me each evening.

I'd like to send a big "Hello" to Hungary this evening as I have some fans there! Imagine; NunuThunder goes global! I like the sound of that...Anyway, waving vigorously to Aliz, Ella and Klara! When you come to visit I can show you all how to stalk squirrels!

I am thinking of writing a proper manual for stalking because I see so many dogs in the park getting the whole shebang wrong by running madly at the squirrels. They can see you coming, dummies! Slow down, enter stealth-mode and be cool.

I have heard that some "bushy-tailed critters" have become so brazen that they've wrestled snickers bars from unsuspecting Welshmen, you know! What with thefts I've recorded so far running to chocolate bars, socks, tights and other 'personals' it's a wonder to me that there aren't more of us working to bring down squirrels.

Mojo

Since I lost Tugger I haven't been feeling the same about playing with toys in the house. I can manage pretty well in the park because it's just so much fun! But at home I grow sad thinking about my soaked toy floating around the Norfolk coast - gasp! maybe even sinking!

You can see how it would affect a sensitive dog like me, can't you?

For a while earlier on though I shook off the malaise and went a bit mental with a tennis ball. Both ST & FP got involved and we all laughed and ran crazily through the house. It was good.

So Close!

Amazing! This morning in the park there was a Stupid Squirrel and I nearly managed to catch it!

It was there, munching on a nut and then I came along, minding my own business. I spotted it, it spotted me and the chase was on.

Where it started there were loads of trees and I thought it would head straight back up one but NO! It ran off to where there were no trees for about 40 metres and I was gaining, gaining, gaining and then I was right up behind it and it changed direction, jinking left, right, left again and so on. I thought: "This is it!" as I matched it for manoeuvrability but all of a sudden it was close enough to a tree and gone.

It sat on a branch panting with it hands on its knees and, you know, I think there was a little smile on its face because it knew how close I'd been. I tried pushing the tree with my front paws and barked for a bit but it really was time to come home.

I enjoyed my regular jumbone when we arrived back and felt more than usually pleased with life.

In the way

Well, you tell me, people; is lying (not, repeat NOT sprawled) under a work desk IN THE WAY? I am there because it's easier to supervise things when you're close by. It's me under the desk or Big Brother style surveillance cameras.
I've been thinking about dairy-free diets and, IMO, they're not much fun. Or perhaps fun is the wrong way of putting it. They are a challenge, like a three-legged piddle on a windy day in the park.
Quiz time! I'm off to prove how intelligent I am...

They should have put me on 4th leg

I wouldn't drop a baton! You see, it's all about getting a good grip and hanging on. Simple, lots of dogs in the park can do that.

Not all dogs in the park can get the hang of stalking squirrels though. They haven't the patience. It's all sprinting and heavy breathing, whereas I take my time, approach only when the squirrel is not looking at me and freeze like a statue when it is looking at me.

Sometimes, when a squirrel has been looking at me for a long time, I realise that it thinks I am not a threat so I move even slower than when it wasn't looking at all and it is entirely fooled! Maybe it thinks I am a bush being blown in a gentle breeze - who knows what stupid things a squirrel thinks whilst munching on a nut.

BTW, I've been practising my winning smile - what d'you think of this one?

"Cheese!"

Anti-squirrel Meeting, late night, somewhere local

Hello, it's me.

I've been to a meeting with the other neighbourhood dogs and we've got a plan finally but I can't tell you what it is in case the squirrels find out and scupper it. Sorry.

Apart from the various things I will be doing in connection with what I cannot tell you about here (but will sometime soon) I also have a New Project which is to work on my Toothy Grin. I feel like I need to develop a broad grin which doesn't make you feel like I could take you down at any second.

Oh! I can hear ST is on the phone, so I must grab Kong Wubba and make as much noise as possible...

Usain Bolt? You mean NunuThunder Bolt!!

Ha ha! You think that other bloke's fast, do ya? You should see me go now that I've made FP chop down half the garden! Seriously, I think I can make it to the back fence in less than 9.69 secs with a clear path.
It wasn't easy though and I daresay that FP's going to have a sore back for most of the week, plus, both FP and ST might well start searching for the 2 rugs I've had to remove (again) from the hallway but they slow me down with cartoon/comedy mid-air running that I cannot afford if I am to break my own records for reaching the back fence before the foxes/squirrels/cats escape.
There's been some action on the squirrel front: other next neighbours discovered a massive fatso squirrel's been living in their loft for ages, building a nest out of socks and tights, if you please! Now all of you who've ever asked yourself where on earth all your socks disappear to will have to consider that a big fat squirrel's been nicking them out of the laundry and living a life of luxury in your attic!
I watched in horror as this recently evicted Fatso Squirrel tried to walk along the fence yesterday - boy did he wobble a lot! I was transfixed by the prospect of him losing his balance and falling so I didn't actually remember to zoom outside and ensure he fell by piling into the fence - damnit!

Photogenic

Oh, man! ST called out: "Smile!" and this is what I looked like! I'm never smiling again.

Still finding it hard

Squirrels seem so unimportant now that Tugger's gone...But I know that dear old Tug wouldn't want me to abandon my struggle against the critters who've inhabited the Neighbour's roof-space. So I'm redoubling my efforts for Tugger. Sigh.

The cranky Dalmatian who's decided to organise the local dogs has called a meeting for next week and we all have to take our evidence along so that it can be assessed by some ex-police dogs. They'll sketch out some action plans on the basis of what we can tell them and we'll formulate our longer term strategy together, so if you hear a lot of barking next week it's us lot and we're doing it for you, so don't complain.

Gosh, you see how touchy I am? I used to be such a happy-go-lucky kind of dog. Toys mean a lot to dogs, you know and we can be badly affected by their loss when it's as sudden as me losing Tugger at the weekend. As I've told you before I do take careful notes of routes when FP & ST take me off somewhere in the car so that I can find my way home should they inadvertently leave me behind. I could (not saying I will yet) head back to Norfolk with some leaflets and drum up some interest in a full-scale search...Hmmmm, I'll give it some thought.

Meanwhile the meeting next week will help distract me. That and some treats; where's FP? I'll go and do sad face at her.

Tugger; I'll never EVER forget you!

Something terrible has happened. Park Tugger (Tugger, for short) was swept out to sea and lost yesterday. Sigh.

I was on a beach playing with ST & FP, doing my usual thing of running after Tugger, catching it off one bounce and then legging it into the sea where I drop Tugger just deep enough to get wet but not so deep that ST or FP would get soaked retrieving it.

Except that this one time I went too far. Or, actually, the tide had gone out farther than I thought and so I was lured deeper than usual and with the breeze being out to sea and a bit stiff...Well, Tugger in no time was beyond the shelf and floating jerkily away from me.

I sent in ST (he's taller than FP and tends not to shriek) but Tugger was already deeper than ST's shorts. I tried giving him my hardest "Strip off and get Tugger!" stare but he muttered something about dog-owners suffering heart failure whilst attempting daring rescues at sea, blah, blah, blah.

All the while Tugger was floating further and further away. FP took a photo (see above). It was sad to see Tugger going and I like to think that somewhere along the Norfolk coastline someone will find Tugger and post a message on this blog letting me know so that I can pop over and be reunited with what was undoubtedly the best ever Tugger.

In the meantime, I have still got Very Old Tugger (ripped), House Tugger (okay) and 2 new, completely unused Tuggers in the cupboard. Also Kong Wubba made it home safely (sandy but safely) and I did a quick check when we arrived home and all the rugby balls are fine. Phew.
FP took a photo just before the tragic floating off incident which, to my mind, captures the quintessential Tugger-ness of Park Tugger. A top toy.

Essentials

I have to decide what essentials I need to bring with me on a mini-break. Hmmm, tricky. Food, obviously, can't do without food. Treats. Can't do without treats. Now, should I count bonios and jumbones as treats? Because really I consider them 'medicinal', like a glass of wine at 6pm, yes, practically as essential as the rest of my ordinary food. Hmmm. Toys? Golly, choosing between my toys! Toughie but I'd have to say Kong Wubba for indoors and Park Tugger for outdoors. I'll miss all my rugby balls but they'll understand. Here's a photo of me with my oldest rugby ball "England", when it was still new (nunu, geddit?! S'funny...).

Wow, heavy bag. Still I don't have to carry it.Right early night, people!

More rain

In the park they've put an end to dogs going in the pond because of the 'wild life'. Never looked that wild to me; mostly it was a heron standing on the stage telling filthy jokes to the coots who only ever politely chuckled (they never understood the heron).

FP's had a "crappy week". Think that means it hasn't been good and deffo not the kind of thing that would have been easily picked up in a little poo bag. If my understanding is correct (and I think I'm not far off), this week would have been a runny mess.

Speaking of runny messes (!) I was in a right pickle last night with the thunder. Depsite my name, I am a total coward in a storm and only managed to keep it together by gathering my pack into the study and listening to classical music for a couple of hours. ST & FP are reasonable about having their lives disrupted in this manner and know that they should ignore the advice on that website they consulted which states that they should not pet me, nor try to make me feel better during stormy weather. They absolutely should pet me, brush me and give me treats (especially cheese) at all times. Even though I appear to be out of my head during a storm I am still keeping track of treat-giving.

Remember people: keep out of the pond!

The only safe place

Help me! I'm terrified.
It's thundery and I've moved everyone I can find into the study.

Here's Harry

Harry

AKA 'Dirty Harry' (inevitably) or 'little bleep-bleep'.

On the day this photo was taken it was so hot we couldn't even be bothered to roll on the grass.

Imagine me cloned!

Did everyone see the story about the cloned puppies?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7542338.stm

I'd like everyone to take a little time to think of me running about with lots of little mes! That'd put a stop to the wretched squirrels!

Time for a few hellos:

Hello Phil, Tom (even though we suspect you took the puree), Coco and Harry.

Harry is a Border and quite a handsome fella if you go for lowered brows and stumpy tails.

Ziggy

Well it was lucky all my food turned up today, is all I can say.
Ziggy beat me up in the park this morning and all anyone could say was I deserved it! I like Zig, actually, he's pretty cool but I'd say he had had a hard time already what with always having competition for his tennis ball. I was only saying that he should get a tugger like mine and Bang! he flattened me!
I blame the hot weather (and smaller dogs for being so yippy).
I didn't get a chance to chew the post up today nor even bark at the Postie. Ended up convinced that the whole day would be a wash out when my latest batch of food turned up and I was able to sit and watch FP stack it up in the (my) cupboard. Sigh, things turned out alright in the end.

Chicken cooking, raining outside...

I had to take precautions earlier as FP & ST seemed to be removing a great deal of stuff from the house, putting it in the car and they didn't seem to be including anything of mine. Always a worry to see things being removed to cars with not so much as a by-your-leave.
So, I made sure that Kong Wubba, Tugger, all my rugby balls, my bed and food were safe in one place then went and hung around by the garden gate.
Owing to the lavender this loitering by the gate caused FP & ST to notice me a lot as it trapped them in the 'valley of bees' (as it has become known). The strong risk of being stung seems to bother them but I HAD to be in the way in case they were thinking of leaving.
Turns out my paranoia was unfounded; they were just getting rid of some old junk. Phew.
I broke off a tomato plant yesterday and FP re-potted it. Against its 6 foot neighbours this 'cutting' is a puny looking thing and I daresay that one more battering with the tail and it will not survive. I'll keep this in mind for when ST annoys me in the week by standing around chatting when he's meant to be throwing tugger in the park.

Weekend

I thought it would never get here! Excellent.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to resist getting up early with FP and just see if I can't wangle the diagonal on the bed, stretch out and snooze 'til 9-ish.

Then, later on after the walk, I will look imploringly at both FP and ST until they share the bacon sarnies with me. By opening my eyes really wide, hitching my ears to the fullest and sucking in my cheeks a bit I can pull the 'famine dog' expression to perfection (never fails to move FP).

Then, even more later than that, I shall clear the garden of all uninvited guests and go to sleep on the lawn.

Tops.