Rabbits boxed and ready to go!

This week I discovered that I no longer have to chase rabbits about the steep hillsides of Doune Castle (unless I want to). No. I can simply visit Pets At Home, where they have a stash of rabbits in cages just idling right next to the leads, collars and harnesses and FOOD aisles.
For variety they also have guinea pigs.
I did so much running up and down steep slopes that I developed some stiffness in me hips. Ohhh, I was sore. But I'm not one to complain, so I went about my business as usual; keeping the squirrels on their sharp little claws and adding to my now extensive smells database. All the while I was keeping tabs on some new friends I made. I particularly wanted to mention a new noodle hound called Cleo. She lives with Auntie Catherine (AC) and I think she probably has a lot of fun - she certainly has some tasty treats! Cleo knows someone who blogs
In the park this morning I noticed that people have stopped taking any notice of me when I bark. I cannot decide whether this is a good thing...

Worth it

I have a small cut from where I chased rabbits in a field earlier. It's fine; the chase was worth it.
I am currently asleep on the floor. Sometimes I wake up and join in the conversation. But mostly I am very happy.

Signed photos!

NunuThunder (I am now referring to myself in the 3rd person) has decided to keep a stash of signed photos for my fans to take with them after they have visited me.
Having spent a great deal of time practising my smile, I have reached a level of poise and beauty rivalled only by Lassie (who wasn't a bitch, ever). Having gone to all this trouble I cut along sharpish to a photo booth and had some pics taken with my new brilliant grin. I've made them all extra valuable by adding my signature and YOU can have one if you can answer me this question:
What's it all about?
In other news, FP has made some big decisions but she's not letting on what they are.
ST nearly lost a glove the other week. Nearly, but not quite since we found it where he left it. Phew!
FP took me out walking and I managed to scare the bejesus out of some lib-dem canvassers, which just goes to show!
Actually, that's about as involved as I like to get with politics. I mean to say, if they are THAT jumpy when all I'm doing is walking along the street then what would they be like if I revealed the plans I have for taking power? It all goes back to the squirrels and their awful threat against us all. Squirrels. Will I never have peace from the squirrels?
And finally, have you heard Bryan Adams' song about being his friend? I have (about 16 billion times by now) and I think it is about a dog. Why? Well, it's about someone who's been a friend to him and dogs are just about the best friends anyone can ever have. Wonder if it's a collie? If your dog is a collie then not only do you have a friend, but you also have a keeper of all treats and treat cupboards, play-maker and Guardian-Protector against the squirrel threat.

Look Bryan, take your helmet off

Today after some excellent squirrel action in the park I had to chase Bryan down the pathway. I would like everyone (EVERYONE) to note that I am not a fan of crash helmets. Or fluorescent vests.
Also I don't much care for Ugg boots.

Lori

FP has been telling about a wonderful person called Lori. During the day both Lori & FP toil to bring culture and learning opportunities to ungrateful f***wits (or teenagers). More than once FP has arrived home (sometimes just as a fox is running up the road - coincidence?) and told me all about how hiding in Lori's book shop has kept her sane. I think to myself: "Where does Lori hide?". Then I remind FP that her real job is to feed me.

I'm sitting at the top of the stairs

From here I can make sure that I'm covering each step in muddy paw prints. I love rain. But not thunder.

Paella v Fishy-Fish

Paella (bleeping hell - pardon me I just got some extraordinary news) was served last night and this morning I get Fishy-Fish.
I saw the paella; it had crab claws, scallops, prawns (big'uns), mussels AND chicken. My Fishy-Fish was mush in a bowl. Very disappointing. Not a crab claw in sight. I pretended I was ill & pulled a long face at my bowl, did a runny poo in the park and really worried ST by not devouring my jumbone when we arrived home from walkies. Later on I heard him on the phone to FP saying I hadn't eaten my food. Like magic, FP finally cracked open that tin of tuna she's been holding back and all was well with the world again! I mean, okay, a tin of tuna is NOT crab claws & scallops but it's better than a poke in the butt with a plastic throwing arm.