I should know better

January has turned out mild and wet. Muddy dogs, and Jim the Crow cosying up to the chimney at night - he`s still living on my roof.

I`m still picking up the pieces of being offline for a week - I was busy running a photo competition on another site and everyone is having to resubmit. Lots of anxious emails worried that that site would go down for good - they seem to think that I store the whole thing on this machine. I told a friend who used to work as an AOL customer adviser. "Ah yes, you broke the Internet," she said. "We used to get a lot of that..."

I`m just drying off after another canine episode. The heavens opened and I rushed the dogs in. No Florian. I called and called. No Flo.

Eventually I got the green wellies and my fireman`s jacket with the reflective stripes and set off into the peeing rain and growing darkness. I plodded across sodden fields calling and cursing. Florian is perhaps not the sharpest knife in the box, and not one I would trust to make his way home in the dark. At last I turned back down the road. In the twilight a small sodden figure sat forlornly at the gate, clearly wondering why I was broadcasting his name far and wide. I plodded dripping back down to him.

"Which part of your name didn`t you understand?"

I was favoured with a Very Blank Stare.

"Have you forgotten it?"

I could see he was thinking hard about this. I wouldn`t be surprised if he had. I rushed him inside before he forgot where the door was as well....

I washed him, and discovered Prudence also missing. Again I called and called with no result. It was now pitch dark and real Noah`s Flood weather. I reached for the fireman`s jacket and cursed loudly:

"Bloody Prudence!"

Insatntly Prudence shot out from her hiding place.

I should perhaps curb my language a little more around the dogs....I`m reminded of the story of the man whose collie responded to "`Koff"

Meanwhile the puppies forge ahead. Cressida is delightful, promising, and does cute really well. She is a bit girly, like her mum - I can see Tamara playing gently with her and thinking how good she would look in pink ribbons....... I will have to oppose this trend vigorously.

Solitaire at five weeks weighs one pound 4 ounces and thinks she is a Rottweiler. She is afraid of nothing and into everything. (Mind you, the camera flash really caught her by surprise. ) I`m not sure if she will grow, and if she is to be a real tiny I`ll have to be very careful about a suitable home.....

Knowing me it may very well end up being this one.