April 2016 – Page 2 – Mollie the Dog

Wednesday 20 April 2016

Another beautiful sunny morning, but naturally, the grey one missed most of it and did not appear until 8:30. After a quick breakfast, unhappily with few crumbs, Bernie pitched up and they were off painting the house outside. I offered to help with a wagging tail dipped in creosote but they turned me down.

After a cup of tea (yet more tea) at 11am, the grey one went down to the village to be physical with a lady, while Bernie took me for a walk and tennis ball checking session. Around 12:30 they had some lunch, again with very few tidbits, and then they were off again with their paint brushes. Not much I could do but lie asleep on the balcony, mildly intoxicated by the smell of drying paint stuff.

Finally they finished around 16:30, and after yet more tea, decided to take me for another walk up to Lassare with the tennis ball. All good fun and I managed not to lose it this time, but unfortuntely there were no other dogs to play with so I had to make do with humouring the two geriatrics.

When we got back, grey dished out my dinner allocation of lumps and I thought you would like to see me enjoyng it. It was, after all, the highlight of my day.

Tuesday 19 April 2016

It is all change here. The carer with the blue rinse has gone back to Blighty for a few days and I am left with the grey one who is now “helping” with the blog and diary.

It was also all change with the weather. I woke up to clear skies and bright sunshine. Ages later, the carers stirred and made some tea but the mood was sombre. I am not sure why. Apparently the blue rinse carer had not slept too well. Not surprising as yesterday she made the grey one take me out in the driving snow while she rested in the warm playing on her computer. No way was she tired enough by the evening.

Later in the morning, the official ball supplier, Bernie, arrived in answer to yesterday’s call for “new balls please”. He stayed for a cup of tea; in fact, cups of tea seem to be brewed continuously here. I have indicated that I would like to try a cup for myself but so far my pleas have been met with an order to go back to bed. Which, oddly, is what the carers do quite a lot.

After lunch, the grey one took me for a walk before taking blue rinse to the airport. I managed to lose the new tennis ball by dropping it in a gully where it was washed into a drain. Unhappily, it did not re-appear at the other end, despite my doing my best to clear the pipe with my nose.

The views in the sun with the spring flowers and grazing goats were all very pleasant, but I am hoping for more action tomorrow. The grey one is cooking his dinner at present but is being very careful not to let any crumbs fall on the floor. I am going to have to step up my whining noise and pleading looks.

Monday 18 April 2016

So we get up this morning and this is what we see!

these however are the snow tyres!

oops. But needs must, so off we go

he’s sooooooooooooo slow

and guess what, another bff, sorry retriever!

however nice to get back to my new bestest nest

nighty, night

xxxxxxxx

Sunday 17 April 2016

frankly when the weather is doing this

I’m doing this

and this

and this

and this

and this

and this……………

Saturday 16 April 2016

Not much happening today, bit of old snow left to roll in

and a bit of this

but when I got home……………. hallo

nasty cat scaring the birds

soon saw it off

On gender

My new carers are quite middle class and they read the Guardian Online most days. I was looking over the shoulder of the grey one and noticed an article concerning a town in the USA which has introduced a bylaw which insists that people should only use the toilets designated by the gender shown on their birth certificate. This has caused a little bit of a fuss with the whole “trans” constituency, but I don’t want to get into the re-assignment debate at the moment.

Instead, the issue caused me to ponder on the different gender issues affecting humans and dogs when elimination of waste is top of the list. Clearly, in the US where they call the toilet the “rest room” or, worse, the “bath room”, they are a bit confused about the basic purpose of the room which many humans call “the bog”. They, the humans, seem to be very hung up on who does what, where.

Now we dogs are quite different and far more liberated. Frankly, male or female, we decide where to go when we need to. And that is pretty much whenever and wherever the fancy takes us. The gender is irrelevant. Sometimes the method of delivery is gender specific, but not the location. I think the humans have a lot to learn from us and should be spending less time making rules about which gender can use which facility, and spend more time determining the most appropriate delivery methods for what is often in doggy speak called a “calling card”.

Friday 15 April 2016

Spring has sprung……..a leak!

not much snow left

and its wet, wet, wet

where’s it all gone?

ha, found a bit

’nuff said.

A dog’s brexit

“To Brexit or not to Brexit”? That seems to be the question on the human mind at present. I am not altogether sure what all the fuss is about. Apparently, there are many “Eurosceptics” in the Tory party (the one that represents the toffs) and they think that the UK would be better coming out of the EU. Since most of them are English, they probably think that England would be better out of the UK as well (since they would no longer have to subsidise the “provinces”).

On the other hand, the country is run by one of the most obvious toffs around and he wants to stay in the EU because, so the argument goes, we would be better off staying in and very lonely if we opted out. He thinks all the “brexiters” are fruitcakes and judging by the way most of them look and behave, I suspect he is right on that point. But real facts on the pros and cons are as rare as cricket pitches in Les Gets.

The real and important issue is that we dogs, who may hold the balance of power in the next parliament (because who else will), must seriously consider the imminence of the Brexit decision. Those against say that “we want our country back” but the truth is that they have never lost it. It is just that most of them go on foreign holidays, get drunk on cheap plonk, spend all night being naughty, and when they get back, it is not only their country they have lost but all sense of decency and proportionality.

Us dogs are quite different. We have our ID chips and we travel throughout the EU without a care in the world. Foreign (or should I say brotherly EU) dogs play with us with no sense of language or other behavioural barriers. We have no borders to worry about.

There are however some cultural differences – French dogs often live in old ladies cleavages, their owners rarely chase after them with a plastic turd catcher, and French dog food is not up to the standards of the UK. But inside the EU, there is the opportunity for us to free them from the ample bosoms, and to teach the owners to tidy up after the dogs have enjoyed the better food we can provide. If we are trapped behind our border (with all due respect to the collies guarding it), these opportunities for mutual enhancement will be lost.

I could continue at length in the same vein with other examples, but time is limited and the answer is always the same. Ignore those clowns like Mr Farago and others, and vote YES in June. Woof woof.