MAY 2015

Want to play ball?  No?  Ok, I will play on my own.  I can you know, I can launch it in the air, chase, retrieve and pounce on it all on my own without any help.  I have to do this when the Boss tires of playing and it amuses him to see me amusing myself.  In fact they both, the Mrs and the Boss, stand in amazement watching me when I really get going.  They only call a stop to it when the ball goes over next doors or I get too boisterous - last time this happened I had a little contretemps with the Mrs’ washing and became entangled in the sheets drying on the washing line.  I had lobbed the ball in the air but my aim was a bit off as it went straight into the washing.  I started my search among the linen, knowing it was there somewhere and feeling terribly proud of eventually finding it within the folds.  I then made the fatal error of not only plucking the ball from the volumes of white cotton but also the cotton itself which escaped from its pegs and came with me billowing behind like one of those white geese whilst I bounced around the garden intent on my game.  I mistakenly thought the Mrs was joining in when she started chasing me around the garden but soon realised that not only was it not words of affection she was yelling but that she was trying to retrieve the sheet, not the ball.  It turned out she wasn’t too keen on playing the game after all and relieved me of my burden muttering incomprehensibly to herself -  but magic is not dead in this house – the sheet appeared an hour later on the line again in pristine condition but I could not find my ball anywhere……

APRIL 2015

Take a gander at these - I know, I know, not what you would normally buy to keep a dog company!  Actually they were a Christmas present for the Mrs from the Boss and judging by her reaction (I witnessed it first hand) I think she was as shocked as I.  Although I find my new friends quite amusing they do not reciprocate this feeling and their honkingly irritating reaction is to run flappingly down the garden whenever I put in an appearance.  Due to this aversion and their reaction I now have a new nickname and task and am commonly known as the Goose Herder, much in demand as every night they manage to break out of their designated area and appear on the patio each morning tapping at the window for breakfast.  If they were friendlier I wouldn’t mind if we spent time together but there are definite areas that would need attention.  Re-training in the toilet area is required as they are even more random than myself in that respect, also I am not keen on the hissing and would prefer honking if they really cannot manage a good deep bark.  They do tend to stick together and just lately they have started having a rough and tumble which the Boss said was normal at this time of year and we should let nature take its course to hopefully make eggs – sometimes he does talk complete gibberish – for a start I always get into trouble for rough and tumble and it definitely does not produce eggs, just a good telling off and instructions to behave!  The Mrs is the only person who gets eggs and they always accompany bacon not ganders.  Meanwhile I shall try very hard not to get goosed!