Annual service

Woof Woof!

It's that time of year again , Mum and Dad said i had to go for an MOT. I wasn't sure what this was about, but i think it must have been something to do with going to the vets because that's where we went.

Now usually i like going to the vets, because i get to see the nice Mr Duncan and although he usually takes liberties with where he puts his thermometer, he's really nice and always plays with me and gives me biscuits before i go.

But today i sat there in the waiting room, looking at all the stupid cats in their baskets ,what is it with them? can't they go outside on their own? what will happen? will the sky fall on their heads?(i wish)when the door to the biscuit room opened, and a funny man came out. I don't know who he was, but he wasn't Mr Duncan. Well, i wasn't hanging around to get prodded and poked by a stranger so i was off on my toes, sharpish, straight to the door...er..well i would have been if Mum hadn't had a vice like grip on my lead so she dragged me kicking and screaming into the room and plonked me on the big table.

Mum took this picture of me whilst i was stuck on there and the funny man did something out the back, then he came through and squeezed me a bit, said i was in perfect shape (form an orderly queue girls..)and game me an injection, which didn't hurt because i'm tough. (although i did shake a bit before..but i dont think he saw that 'cos he was out in the back room)

Anyway after that there was just enough time to flirt with a very nice bedlington terrier called "bo" in the waiting room and then off for a nice walk as a reward.
Easy day really...aaah..its a dogs life eh?

My 95 year old tea making machine!

Woof Woof!

I’ve got two sets of grandparents – there’s granny and great-granny and they look a bit like really wrinkly versions of Dad and live further down the south coast, quite near to us so I see them quite often.

Great-granny is really small and sits in her chair all day, apart from when she’s making cups of tea. She makes about twenty cups of tea a day, Dad’s trying to enter her into a tea-making-marathon competition cos he reckons she’s the hustlers’ bet (whatever that means).

I went round a few weeks ago and ran straight to her chair as always because she’s usually good for a few sneaked gravy bones, I don’t even have to pull the “I’m cute but haven’t eaten for three days look”, I’ve got her well trained. But she wasn’t there!!! – so I checked the kitchen in case she was on one of her tea making excursions – and she wasn’t there either!!!! – she wasn’t in the house at all – how confusing, she’s always there, I had to check the whole house thoroughly of course, nose into every small crevice – 1. Check for great granny 2. Check for chicken. Even worse, the next time I visited the same thing happenend, and the next time too. I was starting to worry about Granny, had she gone to buy me chicken and got too distracted to go home? (understandable of course) or had she gone back packing around the world and forgotten to take her chair? It was a mystery.Then one day I ran to her chair – and there she was, as though she’d never been gone except she had her foot on a stool.

Turns out she’d fallen over (while making tea) and broken her thigh and had to go to hospital for it to heal, cos she’s ninety five (you know, I’m ninety five you know) and had already broken two hips before. Anyway, I’m pleased to report granny’s back in her usual spot, slightly more frail than normal, but never the less dispensing tea and sneaky biscuits at a great rate, phew that’s a relief!

Big Wags for Bobby's Birthday!

Woof Woof!

My friend Bobby is one year old today, so Happy Birthday to Bobby! (Bobby is Megan's new little bruv)

One year is an important mile stone in a pupster’s life – you can still get away with being a silly puppy but you haven’t yet reached your teenage angst months, always a difficult time (don’t worry you’ll hit that in about six months and I’ll give you some more advice then).

I don’t really understand what birthday’s are, all I know is that one day in the year the uprights spoil me rotten and take me out for the day, the granny’s and granddad send me cards and it’s always a really cool day. Haven’t got a clue why but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying it so here’s the bear’s guide to the perfect furry birthday:

1. You’re allowed to have chicken alllllllll day! – nothing makes bear’s happier than a big bowl of chicken, followed by a chicken picnic, with a big roast chicken dinner at the end of the day – it’s your birthday so you deserve it.

2. You get to go on your favourite walk

3. Presents – for some reason uprights give each other gifts on this day so make sure no. 2 involves going via the pet shop and that your uprights splash the cash – a few toys, a couple of chews, maybe a few gravy bones as well.

4. If you don’t get all of the above you’re allowed to sulk (he he he he he he …… and boy, can border terrier’s sulk! – advanced lessons in sulking anyone?)

Think that might be the first in a new series: “The Bear guide to……” watch this space (you do that, I’ll go and watch the chicken)

A game of two halves...

Woof Woof!
Its been one of those funny days really, kind of like a game of 2 halves. On one hand i had a great day out, We went to Weir wood resevoir, its in Ashdown forest (where winnie the pooh lives, but we couldn't find him) and it was really fun. We walked through the woods and down to the water. Because of the hot weather the reservoir was really dry (that's why there's a hospipe ban)and it was really muddy down by the water. I got really hot and discovered a great game - running through the stinky mud right up to my tum tum - it was great - cool stinky sticky mud - fantastic, cooled me down and i had what mum calls my "funny five minutes" - when i get the urge to run and run and run and run around in huuuuuuuge circles at top speed. Then mum caught up with me and i got into trouble, i got told off for jumping in the mud. I don't know what her problem is - i thought she'd want me to be cool and have fun, she should try it see how much fun it is, sure she'd like it, who wouldn't?

So that was fun, then i got my paws wiped and bundled into the car and we went home. That's when it all started to go wrong - Dad started running the bath!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he put ME in it!!!!!!!!!!!! and then he got some yukky sweet smelling gloopy stuff and rubbed it all over me - god it stank - and suddenly i was covered in white foamy stuff (weird), and Dad rubbed it all over me until the lovely mud smell had gone and then he rinsed me off with water. He let me out of the bath and we played a game of Dad chasing me round with a towel whilst i avoid him and shake water everywhere - that's a good game, nearly makes up for the dreaded bath experience.

So here i sit at my keyboard, smelling awful and looking all fuzzy, waiting for my fur to dry. It's not natural, i'm supposed to smell of mud and grass and fox poo - hosepipe ban, can't we have a bath ban. Humph, not happy, might have to find something to roll in later...........