JULY 2020

I haven’t been feeling myself lately, licking and scratching yes but not feeling. Had several visits to the white coated brigade who were masked and gowned and very kind. The Boss and the Mrs left me in their care for a few days and I woke up with a shaved belly, lots of staples and a fair few bits of me missing. I did get away with not wearing a mask but I was given a clear plastic face shield which prevented the Mrs and the Boss from giving me my usual head pats and ear tickles so I am afraid it was jettisoned after an initial trial and I was constantly told not to lick my poor bare belly or the shield would have to be reinstated…a great motivation to behave as I love all the attention I am getting at the moment.

Things were going swimmingly until a phone call giving my prog nose is, which in fact was nothing to do with my nose at all, but turned out to be all about my expectation of life. The Boss and the Mrs have not shared this with me but kept this information to themselves, however I detect an underlying difference in their manner, a sadness of eye and braveness of face. I myself have realised I am not as well as I used to be. I seek constant reassurance and have had to take lots of pills and sleep a lot more than any dog of 8 years should do but on the bright side I have been allowed many more strokes, pats and treats than normal and the pills come with honey and biscuits.

Life is continuing much as it was with trips to the shoot to mooch about with the Boss and walks with the Mrs to visit far flung venues where I have to amuse myself while she gazes at the view and attempts a fair replica on paper despite me sitting smack in the middle of the composition or acting bored and wanting to go walking. However I am not a daft dog and I know I am on borrowed time. I wonder if I should bid you farewell now or see if I can still pen this blog for the next edition….. enjoy your life, you never know what is round the corner unless of course you are a dog with a nose like mine and can smell it.

JULY & AUGUST

1. Me outside my stately home!  Ha ha….fooled you!   (West Green House)

I will explain:  recently the Mrs allowed me to join her band of walking buddies so I thought you would like to see some of the sites I was allowed to see on this five mile hike…. all the training I gave her in April obviously paid off as the Mrs managed the whole route.  The Boss said there was a carrot at the end of the stick and that was why the Mrs had completed it but she carried no stick and I am not sure she is that fond of carrots …

2. We passed this delightfully refreshing looking pond but it was part of someone’s private home and garden so I had to wear my lead and the Mrs had to be attached to the other end.  No swimming today! (Dipley Mill)  I also busied myself trying to keeping my human herd together in tight formation.  They get side tracked by talking and studying a paper with lots of lines and symbols on – none of them follow their noses like I do but they managed to find their way across the land so maybe they do have some superior qualities…..

3.  I hadn’t realised how famous my tribe was!   Along the side of the path were growing bushes of beautiful flowers and the Mrs informed me they were called Dog Roses.  Aha I thought, planted specially for me!  I did try to leave my calling scent beneath but was quickly discouraged and told to just admire the view and stop lifting my leg – this was confusingly difficult as I need to lift my legs to walk so I just kept plodding on and the Mrs seemed pleased enough.

4. After walking through fields of grass, potatoes and horses we came upon another site which the Mrs went into raptures about – Wild Flowers!  I was asked to walk to heel which can be a bit tricky without tripping the Mrs.  I have been warned on many occasions that if that happens she will be really really cross!  So I walked sedately behind her and tried not to mind that tall Wild Flowers make one really really wild as I could not see over the top of the flowers without doing one of my upwardly mobile bounds which were definitely not the order of the day.

5.  Here I am emerging from woodland to find the unusual and quaint Mattingley Church which was built in the later 1400’s – how do I know that?  I listened to their leader reading from the info – dogs aren’t daft you know.

6. The Mrs seemed to suddenly find extra energy and we finally left nature behind to return to our starting point – The Leather Bottle.  I felt satisfaction and relief emanating from her when we stopped our trekking to sit down for refreshments.  I had another drink and the Mrs ordered lunch but I don’t think it was carrots!

MAY

BERTS BLOG:  As I was saying last month - sunbathing is fine if you cover up certain parts - however at the moment I seem to have been overtaken by the Mrs who thinks I need some protection!  I kept trying to tell her that I was fine without the hat but she can be insistent.  I do have a need for some kind of protection as I will explain but not necessarily from the sun… The Mrs is decorating my bedroom.  At first she put my bed out of doors while she was sanding down the walls and ceiling.  However, due to the concern from the Mrs of not constantly remaining in the brilliant sunshine I had crept back in doors to lay down on the cool floor for a bit of respite from the heat.  When I ventured outdoors again to find the Boss he didn’t recognise me.  After a quick intake of breath he loudly asked what the Mrs had done to me as I now resembled a white, pasty ghost of a dog and not his favourite chocolate.  This elicited surprise from the Mrs who didn’t know I was inside when she was sanding down the walls and she instantly began patting and brushing me with her hands to rid my coat of white dust.  This was such an enjoyable experience that I sneaked back inside again when she had her back turned,  only by this time the sandpaper had been replaced with paint and rollers and I later emerged into the sunshine rather reminiscent of a Dalmation with large white spots……  The Boss instantly decided he and I needed to take a run down to the lake so I could swim my way back to being a chocolate Labrador again.  Just by chance the Boss remembered he had to check out his fishing tackle and together we spent a pleasant afternoon playing by the water.  On our return my bedroom had a perfect white ceiling and the Mrs treated me to a jolly good towelling and brushing which almost made up for trying to change my breed!

MARCH

I finally got my way - walkies in a big way.  Over here in France I get walkies every day with the Mrs and on this occasion we went on a long ramble together with the Boss as well.  It was difficult to decide who I was going to obey since they both accompanied me and both like to tell me what to do…….

In the end I decided to be very diplomatic and used my right ear for listening to the Boss and my left ear for listening to the Mrs.  That did cause a few problems as they don’t seem to agree on many things.  For example when we passed by a boggy area on my right that I had noticed held some exciting smells the Boss said ‘find him then’ and as I was on the point of heading into the depth of the marsh area I heard a faint calling in my left ear of ‘noooooo, not in the mud’.   Needless to say the scents were just too nice to pass up so I tuned in to my selective hearing mode and dived into the bog and had a jolly good sniff round.  As it has been raining  in this area of France for the last three months, there was a lot of damp area to investigate….  When I returned to see how things stood with my guardians they seem to be having a very deep and meaningful discussion on how the Boss could have trained me to have the same selective hearing mode that he himself appears to have developed.  The Mrs, with the aid of a very wagging pointy finger was extracting a promise from the Boss that due to his lax control he would be in charge of cleaning me up.  I knew his method of cleaning me up meant a swim in the lake so with alacrity I sided with the Mrs and her promise with a very wagging pointy tail.  Best of both worlds especially for a Labrador!

FEBRUARY 2018

BERTS BLOG:   Look into my eyes, look into my eyes, you want to go out, you want to go out, you want to take me for a walk, you do, you do…..  Bother – it didn’t work!  Rain, sleet and north wind outside and the Mrs and Boss ensconced in the sitting room with the fire going,  the TV showing another incomprehensible ball game and me trying to engage their brains into getting some attention or more precisely giving me some more walks….  Not a hope, especially not in this weather!

Actually I am looking forward to a good rest after the ‘season’,  the pheasants are now safely looking for partners and testing their bravery on the roads and even teasing the Boss by appearing in our garden cockahooping in the safe knowledge they are strictly off limits until they become fair game again in the autumn.  Such beautiful birds and also extremely tasty.  I only mention their delicious flavour because of a recent incident whereby the Mrs invited me into the kitchen area – a pastime not normally allowed – and to share their Sunday afternoon in the sitting room – very special.

It was during the last shooting day of the season when the Boss was given the dubious celebratory task of cooking the Sunday dinner – pheasant – when the said incident took place while he was wrestling the extra fat butter he always uses for cooking out of the refrigerator.  Despite me and the Mrs telling him that olive oil is better for him he flatly refuses to eat anything remotely healthy and it was this cursory comment on his internal wellbeing that made him twist round to offer a non-healthy rebuke resulting in a loss of physical dexterity and a number of eggs being knocked from their nestling area in the ‘frig.

After the Mrs had surveyed the damage on the floor and delivered ‘the look’ at the Boss she called me into the normally out of bounds area of the kitchen to clear up the mess (I love her).   Carefully licking around the cracked shells which the Mrs picked up, I swiftly and efficiently cleared the floor area of any evidence of the Boss’ little accident.  It was then suggested by the Mrs as a reward to me for being so helpful that she and I repair to the sitting room to watch a suitable Sunday afternoon programme which did not involve a spherical object and leave the Boss alone to get ‘cracking’ with the last pheasant dinner of the season by himself.  Sometimes she is such a good egg!