I’ve had a look on Doogle and I think I’ve worked it out right, Grandma is now 1,455 years old … and that’s official! Well, nearly. I was having a little Doogle on how old Grandma might be and I found a very useful website that said that the old way of calculating dog age saying that each dog year was equivalent to 7 human years is completely wrong. The website (sciencemag.org) said that a more accurate way to measure it is to multiply the age by 16 and then add 31. Well, Grandma was 89 years old this week which, by my calculation [(89 x 16) + 31] is 1,455 years old in doggy years. I did pop in to see her this morning but I’m not sure she understood … but then at 1,455 years old I expect her brain is getting a bit slower! Talking of slow brains, I discovered something else this morning … a flamin’ great pile of Christmas Cards. Not ones they had received, oh no, ones that they should have sent! It seems they just about managed to send some local Christmas cards but not a single one by post. He had them specially printed with a rather fetching photo of me on them too! Talk about slow. If he got any slower he’d flamin’ stop! Mind you, I can’t blame it all on him coz Daddy Richard didn’t send them either! They just about managed to remember that it was Grandma’s birthday this week and remembered to go and meet with Auntie Jo, Auntie Sara, Uncle Wavell, Isabelle and Theo to celebrate her birthday. Phew! That was a bonus. Mind you, I stayed at home to look after the house and Auntie Zena came to take me out for a walk. The only problem was that I am so strong that she couldn’t walk me. She said I pulled her too much and that she didn’t feel confident walking me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her but she doesn’t understand just how excited I am to go out for a walk and how urgent it is that I get there … wherever there is!
So this week has been all about walking. My regular fans will down that they bought me a Halti to try and stop me pulling but I hated it! I soon worked out that the best way to get that horrible thing off is to walk until we’re just a bit too far from the house to do anything else and then refuse to walk. That works a treat! They have to take it off so that I’ll walk. So, since then, it has been all about treats. He cuts up some sausage treats (they’re call pigs in blankets but they’re only for doggies!) and then, as we walk, he holds a treat so that I can see it and smell it but I only get it when he thinks I’ve walked far enough without pulling. It’s actually flamin’ torture but I suppose it’s better than that flamin’ Halti. Actually it has given me an opportunity to invent a new game – we go for a walk and when I’m far enough away from home I stop. I refuse to walk again until I get a treat – this game can be repeated many times on a walk of a couple of miles or so, it’s rather fun! He says that I’m stubborn and that I’m too intelligent and I always try to out-wit them (hardly a challenge, let’s face it!). I’m not entirely sure he means it as a compliment though!
The more astute amongst my followers will have noticed the new ‘Dog Rules’ that have appeared at home. Actually, they were a present from Auntie Jo (she clearly understands me better than they do) and are a perfectly reasonable set of rules to be followed. The only one I’m not sure about is the ‘Play Fetch’ one. I’ve not really found a desperate need to play this game – I prefer to run after a ball, catch it and then lay down on the ground and chew it until it is totally destroyed. A much more satisfying game than bring the ball back in my opinion. Not that I get to play with balls that much because apparently (according to him) I’m a complete nightmare with balls and totally obsessive! I have no idea what he’s on about. Mind you, talking of balls, some may remember the Christmas pudding ball that Uncle Don gave me. I have to say it is one of the best presents I have ever had (and I’ve had a few!!). You see, it is just a ball but when you squeeze it there is no sound until you release it – as the ball expands back to it’s natural shape it lets out a very satisfying and long squeak. As I’m sure my regular fans will recall, this can be exceedingly irritating for him particularly if he’s working or on one of his conference calls. Consequently, I have found it particularly pleasing to play with my Christmas pudding as much as possible and definitely whenever he is finding it irritating. More than once I’ve heard him saying something about ducking the Christmas pudding … or something like that – it is often difficult to understand him when he’s so red in the face and virtually chewing the words!
I must say that the walking thing is improving … slowly. This morning I walked really well after the initial tug when we left the house. I don’t think they realised just how much of a rush I was in to get there … wherever there is. Once he got the first treat out I realised that walking nicely without pulling was going to be highly beneficial so I did just that and got loads of treats. Actually, for the first time ever I forgot about treats and walked nicely without pulling anyway. That worked out well because I got loads of treats just for walking nicely! Wow, these humans are flamin’ odd sometimes! I guess I should mention last night too. It was a nice evening because Auntie Zena and Uncle Simon came for dinner (pork fillet with a red wine and port reduction, apple sauce, baby leeks, Brussel sprouts with bacon and fondant potatoes – recipes on www.foodthatweeat.com) because apparently he was practicing the food presentation – I could have told them in advance that the best way to present it was to serve the pork and the bacon raw and forget all about the vegetables but they don’t listen to me! All went swimmingly well until I realised that I was no longer the centre of attention. As one might imagine, that was totally unacceptable so I devised a way of getting attention – I went to my toy box and pulled it over and then I got every toy that I have out and planted them around the house so that they could all trip over on them – that certainly got their attention! Mind you, yet again I was in twubble. Honestly, sometimes there is just no justice in this world!
Talking of no justice, it all went wrong again on my walk earlier. There we were, wandering along whilst I was having a jolly good sniff of my p-mail and comments that had been left by others when I felt the call of nature. I had a little poo – well quite a bit one actually, a good two bagger – and Daddy Richard picked it up. Honestly, the fuss they both made! I will admit that it did have a certain pungency to it but what a flamin’ fuss. Daddy Richard was walking along holding it to one side and slightly behind him. He was trying desperately not to breath in, but what really added insult to injury was when a group of cyclists came past us and all I could hear was “Blimey! What is that disgusting smell!” and “Blinkin’ heck! I thought the cows stank but that takes the biscuit!”. It wasn’t that bad … I’ve done worse! Sometimes it seems that there is simply no justice in this world – it was only a bit of poo! They want to try walking behind Daddy Richard after he’s had Brussel sprouts if they think that was bad! Anyway, talking of walks, there is a rumour I might be about to get another one so, for now, must paws … 🐾