Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

"Let them eat cake! Well, let me, at any rate...."



A long time since the last post, simply because nothing remotely amusing has been happening. January has been pretty dire.

But, apart from the leaking roof, Christmas day spent with a tin of ham and peas and a collapsed ceiling, various illnesses, there is always Shelby.

Shelby enters deeply into the Christmas and New Year spirit. There is so much interesting food on the go. And people are lax with it.....it is so easy to steal.

Now I should explain that some foods which we take for granted are actually poisonous to dogs. Chocolate can cause fits. Currants and raisins are lethal. So are onions.

We can dispose of the onions first. Shelby loves onions, and in his time has disposed of lots of them, with no lethal effects whatsoever.

I remember the first time he stole half a chocolate bar, with one gulp of that enormous PacMan mouth. I stared at him intently, waiting for him to fit. He stared right back, waiting for the other half of the chocolate bar....

And at the festive season, I was given a heavily fruited cake. It was delicious. I had some, then was distracted by the phone. When I turned back, Shelby had demolished most of the rest of it.

I was seriously alarmed. I thought of trying to make him throw up, but was a bit hesitant about trying to do this to a flatface. I looked at him. He swaggered about, shedding crumbs.

And then he came over and put a paw on my knee. I stared into his eyes. Was he asking for help? Was he even....saying goodbye?

I looked deep into the big gentle eyes. And suddenly I could read their message.

"How much more of that wonderful cake do you have?"

Thursday, January 05, 2012

The leaning pole. Not a close up - after all it`s so dangerous.......


Well, the storms rattle on. Not sure whether this is better or worse than being snowed in, but have a sneaking feeling I would prefer the white stuff.

I was reasonably lucky as to damage, which was just as well with the leaky roof. But when I ventured out at dawn after the big one, I was a bit taken aback to see the telephone pole nearest the house waving back and forth like a conductor`s baton. Amazingly, the wires were still intact. In fact, they were all that was holding the pole up.

Followed a wonderful excursion into the realms of communicating with BT. Impossible online, where you cannot get beyond "test my line for faults", and infuriating on the phone, where you wander around menus and submenus all designed to sell you products. Eventually I hit the legendary Mumbai call centre, where after explaining I needed a replacement pole, I was sent to more menus asking me if I wanted broadband.....

And then I had a brainwave . I remembered that in the old days if you needed a gas service in a hurry, you said in a scared voice "I think I smell gas..." I got Mumbai again, and this time shouted down the phone to faraway India, "Danger! I have to report a dangerous telephone pole! When it falls, it could kill someone!

That did it. There was a flurry of "what is your address - we will have some one there right away." And the next morning an engineer was down to look at it, now leaning at a jaunty angle.

"I`m not going near it - looks a bit dangerous" he said. "Number six pole - the boys will bring a replacement down."

I can see I have hit on a good technique here, and am working on how to adapt it for plumbers, electricians and getting my undeniably dangerous bin emptied on time

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