Tuesday 25 October 2016

OCTOBER 2016

This is my ball and you are not having it! So there!  OK, OK, you can have it, as long as you throw it for me.  I love jumping over the flower borders and bringing it back to you.  It is a bit tatty now and I am not sure you could score a goal with it but I do love ball games and so do the Miniatures.  I never tire of returning it to their little feet so that they can give it a kick for me to fetch.  There is a slight downturn to the activities pertaining to my mention of jumping over the flower borders.  Although I can easily clear them with my gigantic leap it appears the kicking and throwing abilities of the Miniatures and indeed occasionally their parents fall far behind in the desired lift and direction.  The Mrs becomes very agitated when this game is played and the cry ‘not in the flower beds’ is often heard lilting over the air from the kitchen window….  Oops, there goes another pelargonium!! 
In between ball games there has been a lot of work on preparing for the imminent shooting and beating dates and I am benefitting from a clearing out of the freezers in readiness for this seasons booty.  I always take an interest in the game stock in the freezer and look forward to any bits and bobs tossed my way that are not required for the Boss. Actually the Mrs is a bit ambivalent about the game stock sometimes and longs for prepacked neat meat from the supermarket so my ears always prick up when I hear the phrase ‘not again’, then I know that whatever the Boss has suggested for dinner will end up on my plate.  It’s a dog’s life – food and ball games, but someone’s got to live it.


SEPTEMBER

It has been very hot here and you have caught me napping.  Over here in France it is normal to have a little sleep after lunch which can last for one, two or even three hours depending on the weather, the amount of work or exercise undertaken in the morning and of course, the lunch!   This particular morning had involved a pre-breakfast walk and diving lesson in the lake and many retrievals of sticks, along with a very tiresome bout of sitting still whilst the Boss did a spot of fishing, followed by a game of tag with my new friend next door and another boring bout of sitting still while the Boss and Mrs sat bird watching.  
Why they seem to be so interested in these flighty feathery cheepy critters I cannot fathom.  No sooner has one been spotted than they instantly fly off and become heavily camouflaged in the nearest tree, never to be seen again.  However, there was one interesting flyer at the lake recently who executed an even more perfect dive that I can.  He was a very striking turquoise blue and emerged from the water carrying a fish in his beak even faster than I can retrieve a stick - I was actually impressed by this feat and the Boss and Mrs seemed very pleased to have seen him, I believe he had some connection with Royalty and fishing.

Just in case you are wondering - the pink bone was a gift from a predecessor and I am manly enough not to be bothered by its colour.  It has a lovely little squeak and fits neatly into my mouth for carrying.  The Mrs has a nasty habit of hiding it when she thinks I am not looking - hence my guarding it tightly in my paw while I sleep.  I like the squeak!