First things first, Happy Easter to all my fans! For those in Spain, “Feliz Semana Santa a todos”, in France “joyeuses Pâques”, in Italy “buona Pasqua”, in Germany “Frohe Ostern” and in the Netherlands, “Gelukkig Pasen”. I’m afraid I don’t know any other languages (I admit that I had to Doogle it in German and Dutch too), although I did see something on Poochtome the other day about some bloke called ‘Trump’ who might know a bit about all things Russian! It has been a bit of a week again. It all started well. On Sunday afternoon we went out for a lovely walk. Auntie Zena, Uncle Simon, Seanne and my bestest friend, Jake, all came along with Daddy Richard and him. We went on a walk that they hadn’t been on before and it was great! The only thing was that we walked a lot further than we intended (5 miles!) which meant that I was pretty cream crackered when we got home. I slept for ages and ages and ages! I was even still pretty tired when I got up on Monday morning.
On Monday I had the first of my little ‘incidents’ that seem to happen to me quite a bit. You see, on the first part of our walk we did on Sunday there is a footpath that is new to us. As it goes through a couple of really big fields and I can run about off lead, Daddy Richard and him decided that we would go there again on Monday. Now, it is important that I get across that it wasn’t my fault … as usual it was his fault. You see, he keeps telling me that rabbits don’t come out on Mondays (and Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays and Sundays and when it is raining and when it isn’t raining … he just keeps trying to pretend that rabbits never come out!). Now I know that isn’t true. Rabbits do come out and, having done a bit of research on Fidopedia, I discovered that they are also called Bunnies and that Easter is a really good time for bunnies. In fact, I discovered that there are special ones called ‘Easter Bunnies’. So I’ve been keeping my eye out for them …
As we were walking through the fields (well, they were walking, I was running at breakneck speed!) I was sure I saw one out of the corner of my eye. In fact, I was so sure, that I departed in that general direction faster than a fast thing! It was hardly my fault that between me and the bunny was a rather black, sticky, muddy stream now was it? I mean, I was chasing a rabbit! What was I expected to do? So, as I crossed the stream (several times just to make sure it was muddy everywhere!) I may have got a little bit muddy. Moan, moan, moan, moan, moan … that’s all he ever does! “How am I going to get that clean?” “Why can’t you keep clean for 5 minutes?” “I can’t ask Chloe to groom you in this state!” Honestly, anyone would think I had committed the crime of the century, not just popped across a slightly muddy stream! When I got back across the stream I was straight back on my lead (admittedly it was also the end of the field and we were about to join Ivy Mill Lane) with him muttering and moaning as we walked. Oh, and as for the bunny … I must have been mistaken, I never did find it!
After a considerable amount more moaning and a rather entertaining game of ‘catch the towel’ as he attempted to clean me up and dry me off, all seemed calm for a little while. On Tuesday lunchtime, however, there was a knock at the door and there was Chloe, my personal stylist from Waggies of Godstone, standing there. I took the opportunity in both paws (well, after a bit of coaxing!) and popped out with her back to her house for a wash and brush up. (Actually, she did mention that we had made it from our house to hers in about 30 seconds flat, so things must have been going well!) Whilst I was there I got Chloe to give me a bit of a trim too, just for a bit of a tidy up. When we had finished I wandered back with Chloe and Sara (Sara is Myfanwy and Carwyn’s Mum and I rather like her!) … well, when I say wandered back, I actually demonstrated my freight train pulling capabilities and dragged them both back up the High Street at speeds only imagined by other dogs!
On Thursday we all went off for my wimming session at Hydro Hounds. My regular fans will know that I rather enjoy my wimming sessions and that my personal therapists Katie and Emily are my friends. Well, would you Uncle and Aunt it, they have a new member of the team, Zoe! She’s nice too, so now there are three of them and I have a lovely time. I have invented a new game too – when they come out to meet me in reception, I used to rush forwards to go for my session. Now I have invented a game where I still get all excited when they come out, but I try to time it perfectly that just as they are about to take me through I plant myself firmly on the floor so that they have to carry me through! It is great fun, although you have to get the timing perfectly otherwise they catch you out! Of course, once in, I am a model patient and I am, frankly, putty in their hands (well mostly) and this week I did twelve minutes! That’s really good because twelve minutes of wimming is quite tiring, you know!
During my wimming session my personal therapists did notice that I was a little sore, so they suggested to him when we finished that maybe we were over exercising a little and to cut my walks down a bit for a week or so. Sometimes I do forget that it isn’t that long since I had a major operation! I had forgotten about my 5 mile walk on Sunday, so we didn’t mention it, but I suspect that might have had something to do with it. Now, whilst on the subject of my wimming sessions, I would just like to point out that the very last thing I need is a pair of wellies! I had just finished my wimming session and one of my personal therapists (I think it was Emily, but she’s keeping quiet!) popped my back feet into a pair of wellies. I mean, do I look silly, or do I look silly? I lost all my dognity in this photo! I have been giving this some thought and I reckon that it might be a bit of payback for my new game of planting myself on the floor and insisting on being carried through for my wimming session. I am going to have to give this some thought and do some strategising. (I don’t really know what strategising is, but I’ve heard him talk about it, so I guess it is something humans do!)
And so, here we are on a wet and dull Easter weekend. I can honestly say that I don’t remember a day as horrible as it was on Friday. Wet, dull, cold and miserable are all words that I have heard him use to describe it. On this one occasion, I can’t think of a better way myself. Now, I know I’ve mentioned this once or twice before, but he isn’t very bright … about as dull as a Good Friday afternoon in the pouring rain, if you get my gist. (Here … hang on … isn’t that exactly what we just had?!) Well, he seemed to be genuinely surprised on Friday when we didn’t see anyone else whilst we were out walking. Erm, hello! It was horrible weather! It was cold, it was wet, it was dull, it was yuk … what did he expect, crowds of cheering humans! Honestly, sometimes, I really do despair! We did have plans to go to a National Trust garden on Sunday which would have been nice, but it turned out that so did everyone else. Fortunately, before we left, I reminded him that it would be a good idea to check on the interweb to see if they were open. They were, but they were all full.
Sheffield Park, Emmetts Garden, Chartwell, Knole, Polsden Lacy, everywhere we checked had the same message, “Easter Sunday – We are very busy today and our car park is full. We have now closed it for the foreseeable future and will update when the situation changes.” So that was it, no National Trust garden for us! Instead we (myself and him) went into the greenhouse so that he could plant some seeds and I could pick things up, give them a bit of a chew, and then drop them somewhere else. He did, at one point, say something about, “Nigel wouldn’t do this!” I have heard this ‘Nigel’ mentioned before … I am going to have to do some research. I don’t know who he is, but I reckon there’ll be some stuff on Doogle or Fidopedia or something.
During the course of this week, they have been trying some new things with me to try and stop me from pulling so much. (I don’t know why they bother, I am just going to pull and that’s that!) We went out for a couple of walks with a tennis ball. This has been good … and bad. The good news is that I rather like taking a tennis ball with me. The bad news is that I rather like having a tennis ball in my mouth and nothing, not even a treat on the end of nose, is going to persuade me to give it up when I don’t want to! Auntie Zena says I obsess about balls – I don’t really understand what she means, but when I have a ball I ain’t giving it up for anyone!!!
Today, is, once again, wet. Frankly, it is about as cold and miserable as it was on Friday. We went out for a walk this morning and got absolutely soaked. We are due another one now but I don’t think he really fancies it. Daddy Richard has taken to his bed for a lie down (not uncommon when he’s had a bit of inkaholl but he hasn’t even done that today!) and he is sitting in the conservatory listening to the rain and playing with his computer. (I don’t think he ever does anything useful with his computer but he does seem to play with it just around the time when my blog appears … amazing that!) The good thing about being clean once again is that I do get a lot of cuddles. People also stop me in the street to tell me how good looking I am (not that I need them to tell me that, I know I’m the best looking dog in dogdom!). For some reason, when I’m dirty, they don’t seem too keen on cuddling me and I get far fewer. Personally, I see nothing wrong in a bit of mud (actually, I quite like it!) but I suppose there is no accounting for the tastes of humans – particularly not in the case of the odd couple I seem to have inherited! It does appear that there is a brief lull in the rain now though, so I think I’m going to pop out and see what the verges look like. I do hope that all the messages haven’t been washed away! Anyway, for now, must paws … ????
