OMG! Mum is driving me nuts. Just because the Squawking Feathers who think they own the garden, got a bit of a fright today, she’s been jumping about like a cat on hot coals. Every time she does this, I wrongly think she is taking me out for a walk. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been disappointed today.
So I take my large cosy bed ouside; this is no easy thing to do. I get my teeth into the edge of it and drag it along the floor to the back door. Sometimes the door is shut and I have to go through the cat flap, stick my head back through and pull a three foot wide bed through a half foot wide opening. Actually, I tell a lie. I have never managed to do this, it always gets stuck and instead I have to find Mum and whine until she realises she needs to open the door. I’ve become pretty good at getting my bed out into the garden. Oh it’s lovely you know. I pull it around a bit until I find just the right place, in a bit of sun but with a bit of shade which I find under Mum’s other pup’s trampolene. Sometimes, it is not such a good place as Mum’s other pups jump up and down on it and very nearly bash my head. Occasionally I decide to join in the game and so I duck down and bite just at the right moment when I sense a bottom is approaching. It’s really quite fun.
So getting back to today. I’m sitting in my carefully laid out bed in the sunshine. I’m listening to the wind rustle through the leaves, watching the birds high up in the sky, half dozing I am, not thinking about an awful lot since I mainly think about walks and food and it’s not the right time for either. My breakfast bowl lies nearby as I always carry it outside too and today, I really couldn’t be bothered to get up when I saw that cheeky Blackbird pinch my biscuits for the umpteenth time. Truthfuly, I don’t awfully like the biscuits, that’s why they get left in my bowl, but that’s not the point. The other day, I got my own back on this pesky bird; I chased him and just nipped a few tail feathers before he flew off. Now he flies in a wonky line. Serves him right.
So I’m not thinking anything in particular, when all of sudden, my peaceful serene morning in the sun is disturbed by the most awful racket coming from The Feathers again. Mum rushes out and I can see from her face that she thinks I have chased them again. That accusing look and open mouth, ready to berate me for having a bit of harmless fun. But today, it is nothing to do with me, absolutely nothing.
The Feathers who are really, really stupid, got scared by a fox yesterday. I tried to tell her as I was whining and yelping at the gate, that if she let me loose, I’d sort out the fox but she wouldn’t let me out of the garden for some silly reason or another like, perhaps, I might run off into the road, or in front of the tractors or something. Really!
The feathers are making such a song and dance about it, anyone would think the fox actually caught one of them, but he didn’t. He probably just wants to join in the game I play with them. I mean, there is nothing so funny as chasing a Top Feather around the garden. You should see how they run. They go off all over the place with no thought to where. They get themselves trapped in the green house, or up against the fence when if I wanted to (or Mum didn’t intervene), I could easily get them. Personally I think they like this game. I know we haven’t exactly discussed the rules between us and occasionally I go a bit far by stalking them surreptitiously before leaping out in front of them and sending them scattering, but that’s part of the fun. Now if the fox and I worked together…um, that could be really fun.
In the interests of a peaceful home life and my bottom, I have though, almost given up this game. The penalties are too high if I get caught which is why I have found Mum so annoying today. Hasn’t she realised I have put away my pupish games. I am afterall nearly grown up and it does now seem to me, to be rather undignified behaviour for one so lovely and graceful as me. All the same, Feathers, don’t push it.
Occasional Scribbles 
Love the dog’s angle on the chickens. We talk about our dog too as if she were human, for instance when oldest daughter got married someone asked the colour of the bridesmaid (she only has one sister) and we said we were thinking of mint but that Becky(the dog) wasn’t keen on that colour.
Also a standing joke is that Becky once asked if she was adopted and husband said to her ‘whatever made you think that?’ and she replied ‘well I look nothing like my sisters!’
Becky is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and please don’t tell her she was bought from a couple in Dennistoun, we will tell her when the time is right.
By: Lynette on 14/08/2008
at 8:20 am
Bless her! Not exactly like her sisters then! It is fun writing from a pet point of view and enables you to put a different perspective, even though you are of course, still doing the writing, even if Skinny thinks she was the author!
By: scribbles08 on 14/08/2008
at 5:12 pm
Becky says, ‘what on earth are you talking about?’
My sisters and I are different because ‘such is life’, I also have medals for service in the SAS and the Military Cross, but I don’t like to talk about it. SSSSHHHHHHH the walls have ears!!!!!!
Glad you liked the drapes, I thought It must have cost an awful lot, but the effect is esthetic don’t you think?
By: Lynette on 14/08/2008
at 10:49 pm
I think the drapes are worth the extra money, especially if it is a long project. So miserable otherwise looking at building work.
Best wishes to Becky the SAS lass! Excellent:)
By: scribbles08 on 15/08/2008
at 1:03 pm