I have been THAT busy lately…

… that I’ve barely had time to put paw to keyboard.  Let me give you a rundown on what’s been happening.  There’s so much to tell you.

Busted, Again…

I have to admit it, it was a fair cop, and there’s photographic evidence this time, too, again

It seems, apparently, the dishwasher door is NOT a place where I’m allowed to sit!  I can’t see why not. It’s just the right size and height for me (although there doesn’t seem to be as much headroom as there used to be.)  As you can see from the blurry photo, I was just about to get off.  This was entirely voluntary and completely unrelated to the fact that the “T” word had been mentioned.

[Editor Note:  “T” for Tabasco]

 

The mysterious issue of the water bowl

I have a new water bowl.  Dad decided I needed one.  I can’t think why?  The old one looked fine to me.  OK it seemed to spontaneously tip over every now and then (Editor’s note: Three times in one hour!) but that’s not my fault (Editor:  Right, actually carrying it into your crate and emptying it all over your bed was not your fault then?)

So Dad disappeared for a while and returned with a bowl that looks the size of an Olympic swimming pool and weighs a tonne.  Well, where’s the fun in that? My little head gets lost in its vastness

Dad also says there appear to be some fundamental rules that apply to water bowls and Labradors.

  1. The amount of water that is dribbled onto the floor is at least half of the water that was put in the bowl in the first place.  I heard Dad mutter something about it being bad enough that we might need to call on the services of some bloke called Noah.
  2. When a bowl of fresh water is presented to a Labrador they can, by the simple act of putting their muzzle in it, transform it into a pond, complete with water lilies, newts and sticklebacks. “How do you do that, Angus?”  “Do what?” “That!” he says pointing at the koi carp swimming around. “Well you got it like that, you can drink it!” “I’m not drinking that!”Why not?”  “It’s filthy!” 

 

We had a visit from Mr Tall

His name, apparently, is Alan and he is supposed to be Mum’s brother.  Well, that can’t be right because he seems to be some sort of giant who’s so tall he walks about with his head in the clouds.

I hope that by the next time he calls I will have become a slightly bigger boy.

He seemed like a very nice man though, a doggy person and always ready for a game of arm chewing but oy vey, I was pleased when he finally left, because when you are as little as I am, looking up at him gives you such a crick in the neck!

 

Then we had a visit from Auntie Becky and Uncle Mike who are pregnant

She definitely had a bump, though what she had most sandals and therefore toes.  Ah toes, better than socks and even better than shoes.  Mum said to her “Have you forgotten Charlie, Aden, Watson and Bengie?” Apparently, pregnancy does that do you, makes you forget important things such as puppies and their toe fetish.

Mike, on the other hand, did not appear to have a bump.  Perhaps he hasn’t been confirmed pregnant yet – not sure how that works.  Anyway,  the baby is due November the 5th which is fortunate because that is my Auntie Chris’s birthday too.  Dad says I’d better stay in that night in case the celebrations get out of hand – I hear that fireworks are planned.  If nothing happens then, the 12th November is my Uncle Ian’s birthday, so you never know, paws crossed.

 

North Acomb Farm Shop

Mum said we needed to go to the farm shop. so off we went.  I must admit that I was a little concerned to see the signs about Aberdeen Angus. I mean I know I am half Scottish but I wasn’t sure that I came from Aberdeen, although one of my siblings went there.  But I was very happy to see that they had made some pies especially for me.  “Not for you Angus, and if they see that podgy tummy they might get ideas about ingredients!” said Dad in a strangely sinister tone. (And I notice he has started calling me “beefburger” from time to time.)

So I decided that discretion was required and I would stay in in the car from where I could see the piglets in their pen.  Dad described them to me, “Smelly, round, with smooth coats, little pink tummies, lovely floppy ears and chuntering away while they have their snouts buried in their food, Labrador puppies are often mistaken for piglets!

Ha bloody Ha

 

Angus

  1. Chris Herwing says:

    Brilliant especially the entry on mr tall
    All of it made me laugh?????⚽️⚽️⚽️ These are for you Angus
    I will be reading that many times in my boredom xxx

  2. Chris Herwing says:

    Brilliant and will read it many times
    Made me laugh ??
    ⚽️⚽️⚽️these are for you angus

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