I should know better

2012-01-29T16:21:00.001Z

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

Shelby

FRUITCAKE

2012-01-29T16:03:00.003Z

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?"

2012-01-05T15:16:00.001Z

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

THE LEANING POLE OF NETHERTON

2012-01-05T13:55:00.004Z

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

2011-12-31T13:40:00.000Z

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2011-12-31T13:18:00.003Z

Well, here I sit,really trying for some optimism about the new year to come.

My roof is leaking dreadfully, having suddenly got much worse under the constant torrential rain we are having, and of course nothing happens in the building trade till next week. Meanwhile the water pours in.

All my girls are looking really well though. I`m beginning to think I was really rash to mate them, though - well, not all of them, of course, but it has been a long time since I did more than one litter at a time.

There have been some bad moments with them. too.

Yesterday, in the pouring rain, all came in but Prudence. No Prudence. The others all crashed into their beds in a hurry.

Out I trailed into the monsoon, calling and calling. How could anything be stupid enough to stay out in this? The soaking fields were empty, even of birds. Nothing moved but the rain.

Back in, ready to summon help to find her. All dogs quiet...except for Camilla, who was restless and growly.

I had a thought. I hauled her out. There, cowering behind her, was Prudence. She shot out, panic all over her. She gave me a look that said "NO, I don`t know why I did that, and I was really scared, and I need my own bed, now!" She rushed in beside her friend, Sonja.

Sonja is another problem. The dear old thing is stone deaf, and this leads to problems.

A short time ago, when I was letting everyone out in the morning, Prudence ran out, but Sonja didn`t stir. Not a move. I gave her a poke....nothng. She is old, and I thought she must have just gone in the night.

I was very sad and went and sat for a bit, thinking over the times we had had. Then I pulled myself together and went to deal with the problem.

Sonja just lay there. I had to get her out, and got hold of a leg and tail and pulled....

and the corpse sat up, very indignant. Why was I pulling her tail? Where was her dinner? Couldn`t an old lady sleep in, just for once?

She sauntered off, leaving me in a state of shock.

Never a dull moment with Papillons

2011-12-24T18:28:00.000Z

2011-12-16T20:06:00.000Z

"He should be so lucky!"

Ella

FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS

2011-12-16T19:44:00.002Z

Well, that`s the last time I make jokes about the Winter Vomiting Virus! It hit me a week ago, and I still feel I am crawling out from under. Not at all Christmassy, that, and no, I will not be describing it here. Suffice it to say that the Paps, always very sympathetic to illness, were reduced to giving each other those knowing looks which say "Well, who`s going to feed us when she kicks the bucket?"

Wobbly or not, I some how got Daisy to her proposed husband, braving the horrrors of pre-Christmas trains...this is the time of year when rail timetables slide inexorably into anarchy, and train heating fails, and overcrowding rules. I was lucky and only had two delays of an hour each, and one was in heated premises. The other, alas was in Waverly, reminiscent of January in Novosibirsk, as any Scottish traveller knows. Home, to bed and ill again.

Meanwhile, all the girls have come out of season. Great sigh of relief. But not from Shelby. Somehow he had decided that this was HIS time. And although Ella is no longer receptive, he is courting her desperately with all manner of Chin noises, and being bitten (delicately, as she does everything), and treated to Ella`s Big Growl, which has been described as the sound of a very angry wet wasp.

Somehow I am going to get it all together for Christmas.......stuck together with duct tape and glue at this rate.

2011-12-08T21:58:00.001Z

What happens when you don`t shut down a wind turbine in a gale.....

STORMING ON

2011-12-08T21:20:00.002Z

Just recovering from the Great Storm here, and hoping there is no damage, although I will need daylight to confirm that. However, the roof is still there, if still leaky, and I don`t seem to have any trees down.

A great public fuss was made about this storm, and all the schools were closed, which was a first, and pissed off a lot of parents.

I had to go out in it for a doctor`s appointment, and struggled against the wind over a flooded road. We had a long chat about the inadequacies of the local hospital, which only seems to be efficient in spreading the Winter Vomiting Virus like a black miasma over the local area several times a year. I had a flu injection.

I then decided, in the face of a rising gale to cut things short and get on home, with a brief call to the local Ladies convenience....where I was called on by the attendant to hurry, as she was locking up. At half past eleven in the morning?

Yes, the council had phoned, and because of the gale they were locking up all the public toilets.

Well, of course. What other response could there be to an extreme weather event?

I relayed all this to the taxi driver. "All I need," he said: "drive in this all day and not even a Jimmy Riddle!"

Neither of us was at all surprised at the council`s reaction. We had both lived with the said council`s warped and possibly alien logic for years. (I have often suspected that at the heart of its policy making procedures is a small green person on loan from Area 51)

Home, and a wait for the usual result of a storm here - the power cut. Looked out the candles, had the emergency light charged, a flask ready....

But amazingly it didn`t happen. Our power comes in on overhead lines, and usually, especially in winter, a robin`s fart is enough to put it off.

So all in all, I have probably been lucky.

The dogs, mostly confined, with occasional forays into the teeth of the gale, did not share this view at all.

2011-12-07T20:10:00.000Z

"Mr De Mille, I`m ready for my close-up now"

Angel

WINTER DRAWS ON

2011-12-07T19:53:00.002Z

And with it comes the usual bad weather. Yet again my birthday outing was spoiled by it, although this time I abandoned the effort before the snow could do anything worse to me.

Angel grows, and is supremely confident. She is exrememly aware of how pretty she is.

I took her to an open show, to let her see what it was like, and she took it all in her stride, and showed off to everyone and anyone. There was a lot of interest. Once she is old enough I hope there will be a lot more. Everyone and everything is greeted by the same arrogant little stare - "Yes, I really am a wonderful little person, about to take the world by storm..... And you?"

Meanwhile Allegra is again visiting a handsome male. I gather she has taken over the household. She is used to a dry food diet. The dogs she is visiting have a made up one. Allegra promptly gobbled hers, and everyone else`s she could steal, then did a very convincing Oliver Twist act beside her empty dish. She then made her selection of the available toys, supremely careless of whom they had belonged to, and demanded to be played with.

Having led the dog a merry dance, she at last agreed to the inevitable - and then, as her husband staggered off for a well-earned rest, loudly demanded a repeat performance. Allegra is accustomed to get what she wants.....and no doubt will.

If the promised storm allows, I will collect her on Friday, leaving behind her some very exhausted dogs and humans ....who will feel that they have weathered a storm already that lasted a week - an Allegra typhoon.

2011-11-21T20:06:00.000Z

All go in all rings!

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

2011-11-21T19:30:00.005Z

I`m mobile again! I went South of the border at the weekend to judge, and lived to tell the tale.

I went down on that most desperate of trains, a Virgin cross country, expecting the worst, but possibly things have improved, or my memory is failing......or more likely, the journey was shorter than usual. My views on Virgin trains have been aired before on this blog. But this time I only had to fight one person for my seat, a tea trolley actually arrived, and I got the last sandwich, both coming and going. ("Fish suppers - aye, you wish!" called the man with the trolley, offering the lonely faded sad roll with lots of wilted leaves and a shy wisp of ham).

The show was good, and really well run, with eight rings going like clockwork - except mine, where I felt bound to make up some of the time a previous judge had squandered on a handful of entries. I felt very, very tired by the time I had done the group, but I did get there with, I hope, not too many mistakes and only one growl from an aged Pug. No-one complained, or threw things, so I assume wax figurines resembling me and pins are not being sought by the exhibitors.

I am quite pleased at having managed this, and now only disappointed that I will miss LKA due to a transport failure. In short, I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of all things doggy.

2011-11-17T20:25:00.001Z

"You washed me! You don`t love me any more...."

Kallista

THE GREAT WASH

2011-11-17T20:05:00.003Z

Well, I made it through the NHS system, and after two operations and a lot of worry I am promised no more. A huge relief, and a mixed experience, although on the whole the care was very prompt and very good.

There was a nightmare hiatus when I had one of the wounds checked at my local Health Centre and the nurse said she would like a doctor to look at it. Well, OK - but the doctor was very young and inexperienced, and took one look and panicked and said it had to be seen by a surgeon. Cue a seven hour wait to see one at the local hospital, during which ordeal I was signed in to a surgical ward 3 times by 3 different educationally challenged nurses, before being told that all I needed was an antibiotic "which we don`t have". A search round the wards didn`t turn up any either. Another journey the next day to get it.

It was obvious that if I had to go in for another bigger operation the dogs would have to be farmed out to poor unsuspecting people who didn`t deserve it. I arranged it, and the Great Wash began. The old ladies were in an advanced state of shock. They wandered about warily, looking at each other.

"You look different. You smell different. Did she get you too?"

Alas, at their age, an unexpected bath usually means a visit to the vet, with the promise of needles, and thermometers stuck where no glass tube should ever go. They were an unhappy clean bunch.

I had Tamara literally poised over the hot soapy water when the phone rang, and I was told that no further op would be necessary. As an act of celebration I let her off. She ran out and the others glared at her. How had she escaped?

Meanwhile Angel puppy has achieved her aim - she has seen off her brothers, who have gone to their new homes. She is very satisfied and smug. And at training class she does everything really well, with a great bias towards cute overload. and a huge appetite for chicken.....

If only she would not insist on throwing up all the chicken on the way home, it would all be perfect....

2011-11-01T13:28:00.000Z

"Go on...prove it was me!"

Maximus

BLOWING IN THE WIND

2011-11-01T13:18:00.002Z

Maximus, the puppy who looks most like his mother, Solitaire, has clearly inherited more than I thought.

All 3 puppies are dedicated knee sitters. But with Maximus, you get just a little more than a warm puppy. Every few minutes you are treated to something else, a little whiff of an unmistakable scent which has little to do with air freshener.....

Yes, like his mum, Maximus is a serial wind breaker. I am well used to her efforts as she sits on my feet in the evening, but I never thought it could be inherited.

Something tells me that if he has to go to a new home, this will not be a strong selling point....

2011-10-28T09:36:00.002Z

"She doesn`t call - when is Mum coming home?"

Puppy Maximus waits at the phone.

SOAP

2011-10-28T09:30:00.003Z

The long gap has been due to my health, and a spell in hospital, during which I was amazed at the number of times my BP was checked and at the number of incredibly good looking doctors and surgeons. Where do they get them? Central Casting? And if so, why isn`t my local practice recruiting from there?

I have a fond memory of coming back from the Imaging expert (looked a lot like George Clooney), to be accosted by a younger version, who produced a stethoscope and said he would like to listen. By all means, thought I. As long as you like.

At last he folded up the stethoscope and said, "Well, you have a heart murmur."

Now I had previously spent part of an afternoon hooked up to machines in cardiology. With my total lack of medical expertise, I still found it difficult to believe that young glamorous Dr Kilpatient here with his trusty old stethoscope had discovered what they were totally unable to see......

But he was very easy on the eye. I suddenly realised that this wasn`t real. I was obviously now living in a hospital soap.

"I find a lot of those", he confided.

"I`m sure you do", I replied, thinking "probably in every single patient, and you cure them single handed, before the commercials....".

Well, I came home at last, to absolutely hyper puppies, all struggling with teething and the huge problems of growing up. One had explored enough to step on a nettle, and the other two were totally entertained by his antics as he screamed and howled and rolled about and proclaimed that he was going to die. Would they get his share of the food, then? His mother rolled her eyes in disbelief, and gave me a look that stated that I needn`t expect her to do anything. Eventually the appearance of dinner made him decide that perhaps his feet wouldn`t fall off today.

All back to normal, then.

2011-10-05T14:11:00.000Z

Fidget`s downfall - a rampant pack of fur hats.

2011-10-05T14:08:00.001Z

"How was I to know those hats weren`t out to get me? I was SO outnumbered!"

Fidget (distinctly damp)

FUR AND FIDGET

2011-10-05T13:41:00.002Z

Things jog on here, with the puppies growing bigger, and finding more ways to get grubby, every day. Already the adults are seeking higher ground every time they are let loose.

Fidget and I had another show, on a drizzly day in a tent where someone had tried to break the record for the number of dogs in one marquee. Tiny rings, and a very limited view for the spectators. And a judge who preferred really fine bone, so Fidget was only placed, although he showed well and managed to ignore the dogs in the next ring, who were definitely Notpaps.

I took him round the stalls for some light relief. We paused at one selling fur hats, caps, ushankas, that sort of thing. "Does this man know something about the long range weather forecast I don`t?" I wondered, and picked up one of the hats, and the rest of the pile slid down a bit.

Fidget was appalled. He had had his supicions about all that fur, and now he knew for a fact that it was alive. He backed off, eyes rolling, screaming abuse.

I showed him the hat, and slowly the truth dawned on him. He began to look about, furtively. Had anyone noticed him making a fool of himself? He discovered that he had become the focus of attention for a ring full of Akitas (although possibly they were just looking for lunch.) Very silently he tiptoed behind me, and stayed there.

All in all an interesting day for him. He had travelled with a carfull of Chinese Cresteds, and was no doubt wondering if hair loss was contagious. And our driver missed a turning and we went home via Edinburgh, so he saw a lot of the countryside as well.

I think coming home and being assaulted by puppies with teeth like pirhanas probably counted as light relief.

2011-09-17T14:36:00.000Z

"I`ll soon sort that car out!"

2011-09-17T14:34:00.000Z

"Life is very big and serious....."

Angel

2011-09-17T14:31:00.000Z

Best foot forward, Angel!

STORMS AND PUPPY BATTLES

2011-09-17T14:16:00.002Z

As we head for winter, which I dread, the stormy weather arrives. The last one was touted as a hurricane by the media, and when it merely turned out to be an autumn storm, they were hard put to find footage of damage and bad weather.

All I had was a covering of leaves, and the contents of a planter sitting intact, like a large posy, on the doormat. Clearly the planter itself had felt the urge to travel, and was probably in the next county. Things do travel here in the wind. I remember checking after one really bad storm, and stopping in shock to see my large garden shed, intact and unharmed, and looking rather surprised, sitting in the middle of my neighbour`s field, like a shabby Tardis.

Stormy times with the puppies too, who are well into the puppy battle stage, and growl and pull tails furiously. I already have a dominant dog, and a very sweet girl. The other lad is very laid back and probably a bit of a numpty.

The other week a friend visited, and the puppies came out. Angel, the girl, ran to be picked up by the stranger. The dog couldn`t take his eyes off the car. His hackles rose. He ran at the car and barked and growled furiously. He barked so hard, all his feet left the ground with each bark. At last he stopped, and studied the vehicle. Then the boy, who at five weeks was the size of a really large guinea pig (with legs), trotted back to me and wagged his tail. "I`ve sorted that, mum. You`ll have no more trouble with it.".

He is definitely one to watch.

PACK ON THE PROWL

2011-09-03T19:54:00.003Z

Never underestimate the power of the Puppy Pack!

Solitaire`s litter at 5 weeks. The ferocious leader in front is the little girl.....one to watch, and the image of her mother at that age.

2011-08-28T17:35:00.002Z

"I hope my function could have something to do with girls....."

Fidget

FIT FOR FUNCTION

2011-08-28T17:02:00.003Z

We actually made it to another show yesterday, with a terminally excited Fidget and a surprisingly silent Merlin. Mostly dry, as we huddled out of the cold under a gloomy marquee. Out door shows in this country go on much later in the year than they should, and the later ones involve many layers of clothing and an intrepid nature.

Fidget, having shocked me by refusing honey roast ham as a titbit in the ring, was his usual bouncy self, wanted to play with all the other dogs, and amazingly was well placed. Merlin was delighted to be able to help him out with the ham....

I learned that someone who obviously encountered an unprepared judge, was told that her bitch, within the size limits in the standard, was "unfit for function" as she was at the small end of the range. My immediate thought was that there are quite a few judges out there who are "unfit for function". Then I wondered how you would really test a Papillon`s fitness for function.

What was the basic function they were bred and kept for? They were the lapdogs of the French nobility and royalty.

So in order to test that, you would require an authenticated descendant of French royal blood. Then I suppose, that person would have to be willing to provide a lap for a Papillon, and to rate said Papillon on how comfortable, agreeable and affectionate it was in that position.....perhaps on a scale of 1 to 10? Perhaps the KC could provide a certificate for this?

I asked Ella how fit for function she was. She informed me that her sole function was to consume cake and chicken, while in a position of supreme comfort.

She then offered to prove her fitness for function immediately, and was quite sulky when I told her I would take it on trust for now

2011-08-21T18:50:00.001Z

"It seems Mum has done it again and I have new brothers and sisters......well, I`m not sharing my dinner." - Fidget

2011-08-21T18:46:00.000Z

"My brother makes a great pillow.....

2011-08-21T18:44:00.000Z

...but we still need Mum"

ESCAPE

2011-08-21T18:27:00.003Z

A busy time (perhaps more for Solitaire than for me), during which I have been seriously affected by her need to get out in the middle of the night, every night, and the puppies have grown like weeds.

Having been very tied in by them, it was good to get out to a very local open show with Fidget. I had almost forgotten what open shows were like.....

Well, this one was different. We arrived a little late, to discover that nothing was happening. The booking had gone somehow awry. The secretary, drinking from a hot steaming cup, advised us with a bright smile that the caterers "hadn`t come".

We all watched the rings being set up with the nasty edge to our attitude that came from escalating caffeine deprivation and impending starvation. Eventually the catalogues arrived, and a queue formed. Comments were being made which I will not repeat here...

Fidget however was enjoying himself, and despite a very slippery floor and being placed 3 rd, swaggered a lot . And I had found relatives willing to feed me Earl Grey and biscuits. And outside the sun shone. And I had at last got out of the house for a morning. Things weren`t too bad after all.

Home to a very sulky Solitaire, who expects my constant attention. The puppies appeared to have grown visibly in my absence. They all settled down to putting away vast amounts of food.

And so did I.

2011-07-31T12:22:00.000Z

Solitaire regrets she is too busy to talk to you.......

2011-07-31T12:19:00.001Z

....and these are the three who are taking up all her time

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT...

2011-07-31T11:58:00.002Z

....Tuesday night actually. I was just going to bed when Solitaire indicated that her time had come, and after a whole sleepless night, during which she had a long rest in the middle, by 7am on Wednesday she again had a family.

All without incident except for one of the boys, who came out "double wrapped", and was not inclined, when unwrapped, to start breathing. I had read that there is an acupuncture point, just at the bottom of the nose, where it meets the top lip, which will stimulate breathing when activated.

I had no acupuncture needles. By the time I had sterilised an ordinary needle, he would be gone.

I have long nails, and the one on the left little finger comes to a point. I jabbed the sharp fingernail into the acupuncture point. He gave a great gasp, and breathed, and he is still breathing.

All well so far. Solitaire is well pleased with herself, and the puppies are thriving. The little girl, born smaller than her brothers, is catching them up, pushing them about, and bids fair to be a holy terror when she is older.

Meanwhile, all is quiet.

Just wait till they are up and running......

2011-07-26T21:33:00.002Z

"I never did it. I am completely innocent....I have never in my life tasted human arm!"

Truly

IN ARM`S WAY

2011-07-26T21:22:00.002Z

An update on the arm, for all of you kind people who have inquired after my health.

The red balloon symptoms went, but when the bite was inspected on Monday, reamrkable amounts of evil green stuff were still coming out,and the swelling was returning. Test results showed it had been the wrong antibiotic. I now have a much stronger one, which I was assured "will make you feel really seedy"....just what I wanted to hear.

I am told to take it easy, absolutely my favourite medical advice. At the moment we have lovely sunny warm weather for doing just that.

Nevertheless, I am missing my shows, and hope by the end of the week to see some progress and feel less as though I have been sat on by a weary elephant.

2011-07-23T16:00:00.001Z

"I didn`t do a thing......poor little harmless me!" - Truly

A TRULY PAINFUL EXPERIENCE

2011-07-23T15:41:00.003Z

Truly, as has been mentioned before, is a problem.

The problem, possibly due to her body language, is that the other girls are out to get her. Truly, for her part, is not one to back down. I have to be on the alert.

So last weekend, when a melee erupted, I was right there to pull Truly out. She was unharmed - the whole thing lasted a moment - but in trying to get to her enemies, she slashed my arm.

I am well used to dog bites. I cleaned it out well, and put a silver dressing on it. Nevertheless, it hurt like hell all night, and during the next day my arm started to swell. And swell, and swell. Saturday, with no health facilities open except A&E at the local hospital - usually full on a Saturday night. So I called NHS 24.

This is an emergency system in which you phone in your problem, it is assessed by medical staff at the other end of the line, and you are advised what to do. Evidently the words "dog bite" rang all sorts of alarms with them, and at once I had an appointment at the local hospital. I took my red balloon arm along, was prescribed an antibiotic and yet another tetanus injection.....which I would have to get in A&E, after at least a five hour wait. I took my chances with that, and went off to get the antibiotic.

I was quite impressed with the whole NHS24 thing. I had heard about it from other people, and in particular had the memory of a friend whose hsuband had developed a huge boil on his nether regions. Being a man, he refused to go to the doctor, and it became quite nasty. Eventually his wife phoned NHS24. They asked all the details, and in particular wanted to know the exact dimensions of the boil. Picture the woman, phone in one hand and tape measure in the other, as her husband bent over in agony and bared all.......

Anyway, I am now bandaged and recovering. It is slow going. Truly must have been harbouring some really nasty Swedish bug in her mouth. I had it looked at again midweek, and the colour and the smell will not bear description here (but really impressed the nurses). I may yet need another course of different antibiotics.

So that, and travel difficulties, mean no shows this weekend.

Truly is supremely unaffected by all this. She is probably wondering why she cannot produce such gratifyingly awful results when she bites the other bitches.

2011-07-12T16:03:00.000Z

Decibelle - "I won this round!"

DECIBELLE

2011-07-12T10:31:00.003Z

Not much showing, but plenty of activity here.

Decibelle (guess why she was named that) is now 9, weighs a lot less than 5lb stands about 8 inches at the shoulder, and believes she is a Rottie. That is probably why she tried to steal the food of a much larger dog, stood up for herself when challenged, and ended up being tossed about like a furry toy as all the others, who had been really bored up to that point, gleefully shouted "Fight! Fight!" and joined in.

I rescued her at once, and carried the muddy object, like the creature from the black lagoon, still shouting defiance, in to be washed and examined. No bites, but sore limbs.

I put her down to see if she could walk. And she did. On two legs. Both on the same side - the right foreleg and the right hindleg. Yes, it can be done, No I didn`t have a camera - you never do at moments like that. She headed lopsidedly for the nearest dish of food, looking like a crab doing a wheelie. I picked her up and headed for the vet.

Two injections and quite a few pills later, she is getting back to her normal self...well, indeed she never changed in character at all. She still believes she is an enormous formidable dog.

What is it about the little ones? Marcus is now obviously having a middle age crisis. Instead of having the relatively harmless human male symptoms of buying a motorbike or hunting for a young blonde, he is now bent on world domination. Having totally failed to dominate the much larger Shelby, or indeed any other dog, he is now eyeing up Fidget. Fidget is also much bigger than him - most things are much bigger than Marcus - and is not impressed.

Marcus and Decibelle need to learn that in order to throw your weight around, you have to have some weight to throw.

I will have to keep an eye on both of them.

2011-07-07T19:28:00.000Z

"It seems just yesterday I was a baby.....

2011-07-07T19:26:00.000Z

...and then a carefree young girl.....

2011-07-07T19:20:00.003Z

...and now here I go, a mother again! "

HERE WE GO AGAIN...

2011-07-07T19:13:00.003Z

Solitaire has been scanned, and is definitely in the pudding club again.

She had visited a young dog, but he was very friendly to me, while quite ignoring her. But her next choice, handsome and more mature, made her an offer she couldn`t refuse (and after a few minutes, had no intention of refusing.) I realised that the young dog probably loves Barbra Streisand, his ringtone is YMCA, and his handbag a perky shade of pink...

So here we go again. She is quiet, large and obviously thinking deep thoughts.

It`s as well she didn`t hear what the scanner said.....

"At least four..."

HAIR AWARE

2011-06-23T09:31:00.006Z

Just an update on the accident with Fidget, the willy and the hair.

Yesterday Fidget went back to the vet.

I had supposed that his stitches were dissolving ones. But they weren`t.

The vet was very unsure about removing them without sedation. But little Fidget stood up on his hind legs with me holding him, and had 8 stitches removed from his penis without (excuse the expression) turning a hair. Everyone was very impressed.

Now I have asked around among people who keep long haired dogs, and yes, this sort of accident does happen sometimes. So be hair aware!

2011-06-12T19:58:00.000Z

Fidget - "I don`t want to talk about it!"

FREE WILLY

2011-06-12T19:41:00.002Z

We had travelled overnight to yet another show, and Fidget was quite chirpy, but when I lifted him there was blood underneath, and part of his penis appeared caught and unable to withdraw. Evidently he didn`t care, but I rushed to the vet on duty.

She had been stationed in a little dark hut, so we had to take him outdoors to see the damage. And damage there was. We had thought it was just a "free willy" scenario, but when it was freed, we could see that hair had been drawn into the sheath, and had wound round the shaft and cut deeply into it. It was a horrific sight. Grown men walking past were seen to turn green and cross their legs. The vet muttered about "reconstruction", and even "amputation". I was grateful that Fidget`s command of English is a bit limited.

So off to the Vet Centre, where he was received and taken in for immediate surgery, and back I went to the showground to worry.

But at 12.20 I got a call to say that the damage had not been vital, had been repaired, and he could be picked up. Vast relief.

Fidget, full of painkillers and antibiotic, was quite cheerful, but appalled to realise that he seemed to have fallen asleep and woken up with a revolting plastic contrivance on his head.

I was more worried about the bill. Free Willy had turned into Expensive Willy, and I had to fork out an unplanned large amount. Fidget, totally innocent of such worries, wagged his tail at everyone, and you could see that already he was rehearsing the tale of his adventure to impress the girls at home.

Well, due to the nature of his injury, that`s the only way he will be impressing them for some time to come.

2011-05-27T20:01:00.000Z

"Such goings on! Pass me my smelling salts!"

STORMY WATERS

2011-05-27T19:44:00.002Z

Further adventures with the utilities here.

We had an enormous storm, very unusual at this time of year. Huge winds battered trees in full leaf and the result was that a large number of them fell, and a greater number lost branches. The windswept roads were carpeted with fallen branches.

Here the wind roared in the trees, and flung them about, and the rain lashed down and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened and the power went out. A great search for candles and the emergency lamp, and there followed a miserable night of listening to the house being battered by the storm by candleight, and going to bed early.

In the morning it was still windy, with no power. I had to get out and check for damage - amazingly none. The dogs, who had reacted to the storm by curling up very tightly with tails wrapped round noses, had a look outside and rushed in to resume the position.

By afternoon the sound of chainsaws was echoing across the valley and I realised that the problem was being addressed. Shortly after, we had light and I could at last have a hot drink and hot food.

And then the water numpties returned. A new set. Their leader examined the previous attempt, and discovered what no-one had seen fit to tell them - that when Old Peter had been forciby "metered", he had been furious and sworn to find a way round it. There was a maze of illicit piping, all of it bypassing the meter. The previous "repair" had been an attempt to turn off one of those. This time they turned off the real main branch - and at once my pressure returned to normal, soaking me as I peered at the outside tap watching the trickle which suddenly became a torrent.

And so more or less back to normal. The police called, admired my vandal paint and barbed wire, and approved the fact that now I can hose the little buggers again. No, they didn`t offer any further help.

And Solitaire and Velvet and Ella are in season. Solitaire, little does she know it, is bound for another romantic assignation.

And of course Ella has again taken to her bed with "women`s troubles".

I suppose it should properly be called "Ella`s boudoir"

2011-05-18T18:06:00.000Z

Down at the river, where the water is...not, alas, in our taps.

NOR YET A DROP TO DRINK

2011-05-18T13:25:00.003Z

The water saga here continues. This is an area very close to a huge water treatment plant. The sort of area you would not expect to be plagued with mains leaks and loss of pressure....which we suffer every day.

We have been on less than half pressure for a month, ever since Scottish Water effected a "repair" at the derelict house next door. Water is gushing down the road. You would think the problem would be very evident.

Due possibly to my constant emails, but probably to the fury of my Rich Neighbour down the hill, who has a mansion with a pool, an outdoor hot tub, jacuzzis and a facility for swimming horses, all of which need full pressure, last week a load of numpties was decanted at the leak area, and proceeded to attempt to find it. My Good Neighbour phoned me the progress. Eventually they were reduced to using a water diviner - "They`re using bent coathangers now!" my neighbour gasped incredulously.

Today they came back with a digger and tools. Progress at last. The Customer Satisfaction Numpty was very encouraging......

And then the Supreme Numpty arrived. The Health and Safety man.

"Beware of buried cables!" he thundered.

All our phone and electricity cables are overhead and clearly visible.

They all packed up at once and left.

I can see I will not be using the hose in the foreseeable future.

Which is a pity, as I am beseiged by teenage gangs, who throw missiles and vandalise the place.

Things got so scary the other night that I was reduced to phoning 999 (like 911 in the US). And what happened?

Two hours later the police phoned back offering me an appointment to see a policeman the next day. That`s what constitutes an emergency service here nowadays.

Altogether, things are not too good here.

2011-05-12T14:16:00.000Z

Fidget gives an enthusiastic rendition of "Scots Wha Hae", "Flower of Scotland" and other patriotic ditties....mercifully there is no sound with this picture.....

SCOTS WHA HAE

2011-05-12T14:14:00.000Z

I spent the overnight journey to the last show racing down the M6 in driving rain, listening to the election results come rolling in - yes, I am the kind of sad person who enjoys that sort of thing. And all the more so as it became evident that Scotland had almost to a man voted Nationalist, and that our Parliament in Holyrood would now be Nationalist run.

A great result.

Alas, Fidget did not echo it. The judge was distinctly underwhelmed by his performance.

Like Mr Salmond, he has an uphill battle ahead of him.

Let`s hope they both succeed.

2011-05-05T11:21:00.000Z

Fidget - "Not another bath!"

IN THE WASH

2011-05-05T10:52:00.002Z

Off again on the show trail, this year with Fidget. Despite being an inveterate mummy`s boy, he rather enjoys shows, which he sees as a matter of demonstrating his superiority to non-Papillons, of which altogether too many are allowed into dog shows. And he is overcoming his aversion to going round corners, although he would prefer to travel on my knee all the time.

So he is about to have one of his prolonged show baths this afternoon, involving soaking in 3 different horrendously expensive products (one imported from America) guaranteed to turn him out white enough to put snow to shame.

I know someone who is head colourist for a very prestigious firm of hair stylists, who has always had to deal with shampoo manufacturers. He also showed dogs, and knew all about dog shampoos. At that time a favourite to use on coated dogs was the human product "Wash and Go". He had a brainwave. He approached the manufacturers and suggested a new, lucrative market. They should sell it to the dog fancy, rename it "Wash and Win" - and quadruple the price. They would ( excuse the expression) clean up.

Alas, they were appalled. They talked about "degrading the product image". And so a great business opportunity was lost....no Alan Sugar there, then.

So this afternoon Fidget will be dunked, scrubbed and soaked in specialist products costing about as much per ounce as Chanel No 5.

And if I have time I`ll then wash my hair in whatever Tesco has been offering as a BOGOF this week.

2011-04-27T21:04:00.000Z

But I won`t actually be there....Fidget and I have other plans.

THE BIG EVENT

2011-04-27T20:52:00.002Z

In from rescuing Truly from a set-to with Daisy. There is something about Truly that sets the hackles rising on my bitches - maybe body language, maybe the fact that she is literally a foreigner - and Daisy has been no exception. The others riotously joined in, and Truly took refuge under a prostrate juniper, from which I had to extract her with much cursing from both of us, mine in English and hers in Swedish.

Juniper and I do not really get on, and I am left with a rash on my arms from the prickles, and bites from all its residents, who hated being disturbed and got up on their six legs and attacked me with enthusiasm.

So now I have to get ready for the big event on Friday.

As you will guess, it involves a long journey down south, and crowds of people.....

Yes, of course its a dog show! What did you think?
.

RUBBISH BLOGGER

2011-04-22T16:00:00.002Z

Scroll down....and down...and down!

2011-04-22T15:59:00.000Z

Ella triumphant -
"Did you think some silly infection could bring down me, a Chin princess?"

2011-04-22T15:57:00.000Z

"I love to play with Velvet and Fidget....in short -

2011-04-22T15:53:00.002Z

"I`m back!"

ELLA TRIUMPHANT

2011-04-22T15:48:00.000Z

Ella is now completely restored to her old self - my spoiled little princess, convinced that she owns the world and can make that world quail with her tiny growl, and rush to feed her chicken when she bats her tiny eyelashes.

BLOOGER DOES IT AGAIN

2011-04-07T15:31:00.001Z

I have no idea why Blogger is creating an enormous space between header and post. If something goes wrong in Blogger, there is no help available. I had the same problem four or five years ago, but cannot remember how I fixed it. You will all just have to scroll down...and down...and down to find out about Ella.

2011-04-07T15:22:00.000Z

"I don`t feel too good...please, no more vet?"

ELLA THE INVALID

2011-04-07T15:06:00.001Z

The last few weeks have been a struggle.   Ella has been quite ill, with a mysterious infection in her nose which spread to her tear ducts, made her whole face swell up, and brought her very low.

There were many visits to the vet, and many antibiotics were tried. Poor Ella, oozing unmentionable stuff from eyes and nose, was poked and prodded, had the unmentionable thermometer inserted (at which her eyes bug out), and when she tried her best growl (described once as the sound of a very wet angry wasp) she blew bubbles instead.

Her appetite went.   I kept her going on Complan, administered by syringe - an unspeakably messy process. As the vet commented, "Complan + saliva = instant glue. " At least they now make it in chicken flavour....I just remembered the one original flavour, Yuck.

I tried her on everything.   I invited Shelby to show her how tasty these offerings were, and he responded nobly to the task. I think he may look back on these weeks as some of the best in his life.

I had some success with ice cream.   As I brought in the carton, every bitch who has ever had a litter converged on it quickly.   I always give ice cream during a whelping, reckoning that something cool and delicious involving liquid, calcium and a whopping big sugar rush is no bad thing when you are working hard to push out puppies.   They had never forgotten.

I gave some to Allegra, who looked very thoughtful and could imagine her thinking; "Wait a minute! Ice cream and I`m not having contractions! I don`t even remember getting pregnant! Has my short term memory gone?"

At last the vet tried a new antibiotic, and it did the trick.   She had the injection on Monday, and the improvement since has been remarkable. She is still not eating much, but is back to her old cheerful self, and her nose and eyes are clear..

I hope the worst is over.

2011-03-27T18:32:00.001Z

Fidget - "the shortest way between two points is a straight line...please?"

FIDGET ROUND THE BEND

2011-03-27T18:12:00.005Z

Back tired from another show, at which Fidget behaved, had a good time, but did not impress.

He is an erratic traveller. He realxes and sleeps on motorways...but he doesn`t do corners. So for the country road that crosses the river and winds up to the M6, I have to hold him on my knee, where he moans and rolls his eyes every time we go round a bend. At the motorway approach, he is put in his travelling box and settles down.

It could be worse - I have memories of a friend`s Afghan who used to let fly at both ends on the first corner we came to. Afghans can produce..... quite a lot. We always seemed to be cleaning out the car at the same farm gate fairly near her home, and wishing we had a hose....

Much of the discussion at the show was not about dogs. It was about the cost of showing them. It has become a very expensive hobby, and entries at some shows are starting to go down. The show organisers put the price of entry up to compensate for this - as though you were a shopkeeper who couldn`t sell an item at 50p and said "well, I`ll put the price up to 75p to compensate." And the cost of fuel for travel is a matter for national debate at the moment - personally I advocate switching to cooking oil at 90p a litre, but have had no takers so far.

Wait and see. We will be using dog droppings to power our cars to shows before long.

Judging by what I pick up every day, that will give me a fuel monopoly.

2011-03-19T20:04:00.001Z

"He got right up my nose!"

Ella

NOSE JOB

2011-03-19T17:50:00.002Z

We have been making frequent visits to the vet these days. Fidget has very weepy eyes, (and when excited he weeps even more), and Ella has a nasal infection which involves a runny nose and lots of sneezing.

Fidget was quite sociable, as he usually is - until the vet let him sniff his hand. He read that like a book - a very scary one. This man did truly awful things to dogs, many of them involving needles and thermometers inserted where no glass tube has any right to go. His hackles rose and he backed off hard.

Ella was originally examined by one vet, but when brought in for her treatment she was received by a different one. She batted her eyelashes at him hopefully - surely those pockets were full of chicken? He stared at her, then at the case notes, then back.

"It says here nasal irrigation. But she hasn`t got a nose.! What exactly is she?"

Ella glared at him over her full two millimetres of muzzle, clearly seeing any hope of chicken receding rapidly. Here was a man who didn`t believe in Chin!

I explained what she was.

"There aren`t too many of these about, are there?" he asked hopefully.

However, the procedures were done eventually, and I brought my two resentful patients home for a really comforting meal and a cuddle, both rather damp from their respective ordeals.

We are united in hoping for no return visits.

2011-03-17T15:43:00.000Z

A large class underway on the famous green carpet

OF CRUFTS AND CARPETS

2011-03-17T15:06:00.004Z

Back from Crufts, and it takes time to recover. It is a long day, with a lot of walking for me.

Both Fidget and Ella distinguished themselves by managing to come 5th in their classes. Fidget has improved greatly in behaviour - or perhaps he was just overawed by the enormous hall. He totally forgot to bark, did not bounce, and paid me considerable attention and so actually knew where he was supposed to go. We had no accidents, and I even had time to study the dogs next to me in line, and feel a little better about my lad`s shortcomings.

Odd things stay in the memory....the little dog who appeared to have no legs, just feet sticking out from under his coat....the man sitting near me who decided that the judge was only looking for "really big red ears"...the woman next to me in the lineup who went down to reassure her dog, then stood up with a glazed expression, and confided "I`ve just knelt in pee". The Crufts green carpet is famous, but by the fourth day is....well, rather thoroughly used. You can`t actually hear it squelch, but the thought is always there.

I seem to remember years ago that the catalogue used to state that the said carpet would be "donated to charity" when the show closed. Let your mind run riot. Cut into room sized sections, dried out, and bestowed on the "deserving poor"? (Perhaps the nasally challenged poor?....)

I notice that that statement has now been removed from the catalogue. I expect the carpet is now removed by brave volunteers in biohazard suits. And I don`t want to know what happens to it after that.

Some things are best left unsaid.

2011-03-02T22:46:00.002Z

Daisy

DAISY, DAISY....

2011-03-02T22:34:00.002Z

Unexpectedly, Daisy has returned to me. I am busy helping her to integrate with my unruly lot.

As she left here at 8 weeks, it is all very strange to her, but it looks as if she will settle well - Papillon bitches are very resilient, and the others are willing to accept her. Solitaire alone is jealous, and is demanding a lot of attention.

Merlin deicded she was his personal present, and was very attentive - until he was told to get lost. Marcus, her half-brother, established that she was not in season and yawned. Her father showed no interest, but her mother, Fenella, did a double take and stared hard...and then you could see her wondering just what had caught her eye, and dismissing it.

Meanwhile Daisy is occupied in having the change eased by frequent application of chicken, and wondering what on earth happened to the two Chin, and whether it is catching, and her face will eventually flatten too.

I wonder how she feels about pheasant....?

2011-03-01T18:15:00.001Z

"Catch me if you can, sucker!"

2011-03-01T18:13:00.001Z

"Just wait till next time....."

A BIRD IN THE PAW

2011-03-01T16:56:00.002Z

We have a lot of pheasants here. They breed on my land, and at the moment courtship is well underway.

Now the pheasant is not exactly the brightest of birds. My former neighbour, Old Peter, used to do a bit of shooting....but never pheasants. He always said he would be ashamed to shoot anything that stupid.

One large male who even among pheasants must have qualified as the village idiot, paraded along the hedge the other day, uttering frequent guttural calls which probably translate as "Come and eat me - I`m over here!" The dogs, on the other side, went ballistic and had to be taken in.

The next day he was parading in the next field. And Truly got out. She sped towards her feathered lunch at near light speed.

Now you would expect any normal bird to take to the air and leave the whole situation far behind. But pheasants are not normal.

Instead,he chose to run.

Truly was after him like a tiny red and white cruise missile. The dumb bird legged it down the field, but it was clear that he had nothing like her speed. The rest of my gang cheered her on to the echo, jumping up and down at the gate.

She closed on him, she had him - and then at the last minute he flew, with a huge clatter of wings.

Truly`s eager teeth closed on empty air. Her face was a study......

"Oh shit! My lunch could fly! Who knew!"

She stalked home in a fury. The rest of the gang, equally amazed, had for once nothing to say.

She has been very quiet since.

I am sure she is making plans. Probably involving flapping her ears very fast indeed.

2011-02-18T15:02:00.000Z

"And today`s subject for study is......."

2011-02-18T14:59:00.000Z

"....I hope it`s not a recipe book he`s researching!"

OF MICE AND CHIN

2011-02-18T14:04:00.004Z

There is always an ongoing rodent problem here. The problem is fieldmice - little tan and white people with huge black eyes, who see this isolated cottage in winter as the Promised Land, full of milk and honey.....well, at least dogfood and other dry goods. And when the weather gets chilly, somehow they find their way in.

Actually, not so much this winter, as the cold spell came on so suddenly and was so severe that I guess it caught most of them before they could put their emigration plans into effect.

So it was quite a surprise when the other evening one wandered out into the middle of the floor, and paused to think.

All the dogs were asleep, except Shelby.

Now Shelby is a Chin. He has never seen himself as a mighty hunter, as the Paps do. But he does pride himself on having a supremely enquiring mind. He decided to inspect the mouse.

He walked over, bent down, and put his great flat face next to its tiny one.

I have no idea what the mouse thought. It didn`t move. It was either paralysed with fear, or could make no sense at all of the huge black and white apparition looming over it like the full moon. It just sat there, a target for some serious heavy sniffing and eye-rolling, as Shelby assessed it.

I don`t know how long this mutual appreciation would have gone on - but then Truly woke up.

Truly has no pretensions to be a great seeker after knowledge. She is a Papillon and therefore she knows it all already. She spotted the mouse. She knows all about mice. Mice are crunchy. She shot across the floor like a rocket, and the mouse, at last in a situation it understood only too well, legged it under a bookcase. Followed much scraping and heavy sniffing, as the other Paps woke and joined her in trying to get under the bookcase.

Shelby stood back and watched. Clearly he was busy assimilating what he had learned. You could see the wheels going round .......

"File under `Fieldmouse`"

2011-02-14T19:34:00.000Z

Fidget caught motionless for a moment - it took a very fast shutter speed.

OF FIDGET AND FILMS

2011-02-14T19:03:00.002Z

I must be more careful in naming dogs. Fidget has really grown into his name. He is a total scatterbrain in the ring, spinning round at every new attraction, never still, and a total embarrassment. At home he is quiet, affectionate, given to jumping on my knee and solemnly touching noses, a strange ritual which seems to have deep meaning for him but simply leaves me cold (literally.) He is now over a year, and I have given him solemn lectures on the responsibilities of an adult male (which I think he simply sees as a duty to swagger, and pee a lot more when out).

Escaping from the demands of the dogs, (and especially the elderly pack, which I have recently come to describe as the Granny Farm) I have this year managed to see all the Oscars hopefuls. (Apart from the 2 animation categories, and I am working on that.)

The Black Swan - well, I think I wasn`t supposed to laugh, but it was hilariously OTT. It reminded me somehow of forties gothic noir, and I could see it in black and white, with a very young Vincent Price playing the Svengali director, the gratuitous sex just hinted at, and a lot more dancing. Anyway, The Red Shoes did this sort of thing better. I liked the part where Odile sprouted feathers, though.

As to The King`s Speech - my mum would have loved it. And so will most of America, for whom it has been carefully created. Nice - really nice, with royals and all. What more can you ask?

I was interested to see Wallis Simpson very unfavourably portrayed. I used to know the daughter of someone who worked for the Windsors, when they lived in France after the abdication. She said that he was an absolute darling, still very much in love, but that she was a hard, bitter woman - one who had gambled for everything and lost.

She could have taken lessons from Camilla, then.

2011-02-03T20:41:00.001Z

"Please, not again...couldn`t I just go into a convent or something?"

Solitaire

THE GYPSY`S WARNING

2011-02-03T20:17:00.004Z

I`m sitting out a storm here - howling gale, trees down, and the field drain at the gate has overflowed and a muddy river is rolling past the front door. Amazingly for once the Papillons are not too eager to go out....

Nothing compared to what Queensland has just gone through. I followed the arrival of the cyclone in Townsville - the webcam had gone down when the power went, and a daring lad was upping video feed from his iPhone, standing out on a seventh floor balcony to film the cyclone`s landfall with horrific wind and rain and giving a commentary ("Well, the pool is really full, but the barbie`s gone..."). Great guy.

I should be eagerly anticipating a happy event, but a visit to the man with the scanner tells us that Allegra`s romantic interlude down south has not borne fruit. She is happy, but I am not. I have had a serious word with Solitaire and informed her that she is next in the line of fire. She rolled her eyes at me and backed off. Sex, you may remember, was one of the greatest disappointments of her life. Well, disappointments never come singly.......

I am reminded of the story of the girl who went to the fair and had her fortune read. The old gypsy woman looked at the cards, the crystal and her hand and then said;

"Well, hen, it`s like this. I can see nothing but trials, tribulations and disappointments - until you`re twenty-one."

"And after that?" cried the young girl eagerly.

"After that? " said the old wife........

"After that you`ll get used to it."

2011-01-16T14:55:00.000Z

"I`m hungry......."

2011-01-16T14:53:00.000Z

Run, rabbit, run....

HAWKEYE

2011-01-16T14:33:00.002Z

Not dead yet, but frozen in till last week, with a chest infection. Not getting out much, then.
I did visit my waterless relatives at New Year, and after some weeks without they were coping quite well. The loo was stocked with buckets of murky river water, some of them with suspicious movement in their depths - however, they fulfilled the function. Bottles for the rest. We had a jolly time despite it all, with turkey and all the trimmings. All dogs had been brought into the house due to the extreme cold.

And then we had the thaw. Suddenly I could walk anywhere. It felt like summer!

And last week, coming home, I met Hawkman on the road. Just walking up with his Harris hawk on his wrist. He had been flying the rather nervy bird at rabbits, of which we have a horrendously enormous population. But he had spotted my lot, and said he would not be coming over to me, as she had been "very interested" in the small dogs.

I was in some doubt as to what would eat who if it came to an attack, knowing that my lot define all birds, talons or not, as "crunchy", but said that indeed that would be best.

He kindly offered to supply me with rabbits.

It immediately took me back to childhood, after the war, when we ate what we could get. I am no stranger to whalemeat (doesn`t taste like chicken!) and have strong memories of endless rabbit. I can see my mother yet, flouring those rabbit joints, making pies and stews. I think it would take Escoffier come back from the dead to enthuse me about rabbit.

And I am now lazy about preparation, and perhaps not so strong in the hands. They tell you that all you have to do is cut round the paws and along the belly, get a good grip of the skin, and with one good pull it comes off.

This, unless your surname is Schwarzenegger, is a flat lie, friends. My efforts at skinning rabbits and hares are not something I will be boasting of. (I`m not too good at plucking, either).

Still, we are back to austerity now, and free food is free food.

I may yet go on the bunny diet.

2010-12-30T16:18:00.001Z

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2010-12-30T16:02:00.004Z

Usually I am reporting at this time on how excellently I have enjoyed the festive season with my relatives, who have fed me to bursting point.

This year is a little different.

The relatives I usually impose on at Christmas have had no water since well before that. The main has frozen. They are reduced to using buckets of river water to flush the loo, and there is no sign of the water returning.

The ones I visit on Boxing Day for the sumptuous seven course dinner had no cooker.

I had a very quiet time, during which I opened quite a few tins, and was profoundly grateful that I had water, and facilities to cook the contents of those tins.

Meanwhile, we have a thaw, enough that I was able to retrieve Allegra from her romantic interlude down south. She has been greatly missed. It is now a case of wait and see, but she is looking very smug.....

One (the only) advantage of the deep snow was that I didn`t have to clean underneath my grubby bunch when they came in. The snow obliged. What the males thought about that sensation is not recorded. Now my lot have reverted to dirt with a vengeance.

However, I am no longer snowed in, and feeling a bit more optimistic about the coming year....

Which I hope will be very prosperous for all of you.

2010-12-23T20:38:00.000Z

SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS

2010-12-23T19:52:00.003Z

In my last minute shopping rush, I found myself at the perfume counters of several large stores. Usually I was the only woman in a crowd of deeply embarrassed and unhappy men, all looking as shifty as if they were in a porn shop in a back alley.

Some were downright hopeless, and muttered that they wanted "something nice". One announced confidently that he was all right as he had "brought the box", presumably pilfered from her dressing table.

The one in front of me said confidently that "she" wore Prada.

"Certainly sir," said the girl. "Which of the four Prada fragances?"

He went white. She obligingly named the four. "Well, it`s Prada" he repeated.

I told him that Prada was a fashion house. "It`s as if you went to buy a car and just said `I want a Ford`"

He brightened momentarily. "Wish I was buying a car!"

I don`t like any of the Prada fragrances. "Why don`t you just choose the brightest box?" I suggested.

I could see this idea was a hit with a number of the men. I shudder to think what the garish result of this rash suggestion was. I probably ruined the Christmas of quite a few women at that point.

Meanwhile I have two Christmas invalids - Decibelle with a urinary infection, and Julian with wome strange nameless thing which involved a visit to the vet and a prolonged examination whith revealed nothing but a mouth ulcer and a temperature....oh, and all the urine he had refused to pass the day before, with which he obligingly flooded the surgery. "At least we now have a specimen", said the vet brightly.

I dreaded hearing that they wanted to keep him in "for observation", which at this festive time of year would involve a contract written in blood signing over all the assets of me and my heirs in perpetuity.

However he is home, unwilling to do anything but stand or lie about, not eating or drinking and still devoid of other symptoms. I have no idea what his problem is.

I know all too well what mine are,and hope to forget them all for a bit over Christmas with my obliging relatives.

2010-12-18T14:25:00.000Z

Fidget - "You can have enough of snow...."

.....AND NOT A DROP TO DRINK

2010-12-18T11:48:00.003Z

So I overcame my recently acquired bus phobia and went into the city and was there when the shops opened and dealt with the back log of Christmas shopping in a rush. Safe back on the bus and heading home, I thought my worries were over.

I slogged down the snowy road laden with parcels, and met my Good Neighbour in deep conversation with a man in a van.

"No water!" he announced.

Van Man added "I can hear water running in the main and there is a serious mains burst."

I then learned that Scottish Water had been down but not to my place, as I was out.

Serious, then. My heart sank.

I volunteered that the outside tap at the garage had been leaking a bit.

My Good Neighbour said he would come and have a look.

As we came through the gate he pointed to the culvert that runs across the road, the one my title deeds require me to keep running at all times as it is a main drain for the woodland above, and told me that the Scottish Water man had designated it as a Serious Leak. So much for their expertise. I had a flash of vision of them being briefed before they set out on a call - "Remember, water is the wet liquid stuff..."

Well, the tap had sprung a bit more. There followed 2 hours in the sub-zero cold as we struggled with it, trying one thing after another and not succeding. The actual tap had cracked. Eventually he removed it and put a cap on the pipe.....and eventually with a bit of effort involving a hammer, the cap held. We checked, and he had water.

"What about the expert and his serious mains leak then?", I asked.

He gave me the look of a man who realises that in involving experts he has strayed far into Numptyland.

"What does he know? He`s from Edinburgh!"

No answering that. I went off to lag the pipe with bubble wrap.

So far the water is still on.

2010-12-12T10:59:00.000Z

Words fail me. At least the man responsible for this fiasco has resigned.

A PERFECT DAY

2010-12-12T10:34:00.003Z

It was a cold dry morning. I decided to have a few hours in the city and perhaps pick up a treat for myself, since it was my birthday. I walked up and caught the early express bus.

When we were almost there, the blizzard hit. I was glad to get off the bus and in for a coffee and sandwich. I braved the snow all the way down Buchanan St to check on a watch repair (would you believe it will have to go to Switzerland!), and then found it difficult to walk in the slush and headed back, thinking I would have to cut this short.

I fell into Caffe Nero at 11, quite exhausted, and the barista said, "Darling, what you need is a hot mince pie!" That was to be my last food that day.

Up to the bus station. Crowds of upset people, and no buses. I was stranded. We waited and waited, and at last at 1pm two buses appeared. I managed to crush on to the nearest - it would not take me home, but perhaps near enough. Off we set.

We made painfully slow progess, but at least we were moving. The motorways were in chaos. No attempt at all had been made to clear them. No ploughs, no gritters.

Hours went by. It began to get dark. And cold. Small buses do not heat well.

At last we were truly stuck, not far from the slip road we needed. But no effort had been made to clear those slip roads, so everyone was at a standstill on the motorway, unable to get off. The bus was very cold indeed. All around people were abandoning their cars and heading off into the dark, and the deep snow, walking down the motorway, some with small children.

I had a bad asthma attack, and the driver called for help. Eventually the police arrived. Would they help me home? No. "Stay in the vehicle and we will bring you hot drinks." We never saw them again.

Hours went by. We crept on. The passengers began to desert. I stayed because the driver had to pass my home stop to deliver his vehicle to the depot. During all this time no effort was made to clear the roads, or help those stuck in vehicles.

I made it to the bus stop eleven hours after I had got on the bus. I had to wade home in deep snow and arrived frozen and exhausted.

And the dogs? I opened the door to the regular sound of Sonja snoring. No hysterics, no panic - it seems they had just slept.

I am still recovering from being frozen, dehydrated and starved.

Now I have a burst pipe as well.

I am getting too old for all this.

2010-12-05T13:17:00.001Z

Living well on pinhead oatmeal and Royal Canin.......

2010-12-05T13:12:00.000Z

The first part of the road out - before shovelling