Woof neighbourhood

I was thinking the other day how lucky I was to live in a neighbourhood where all the dogs are nice to me. Then within 24 hours I get grumped at by 3 different dogs. Don’t worry I’m alright! My defence is cowardice. I lie down meekly and they tend to leave me alone. My human wading in with her big boots also tends to help. It was a bit scary through.

The first one was a boxer who I’ve never seen before. We were near the end of our morning walk; I was on the lead, then out of nowhere springs this dog. Before I could get my ‘big wus’ defence in play (lie down meekly and pray I don’t get hurt) he’d pinned me to the floor and was growling menacingly at me. Luckily my human was on hand to ‘rescue’ me and then the two humans had words. Apparently the boxer was ‘only playing’ – yeah right.

We met Taz on our evening walk that same day. I don’t know what type he is but he’s got a squashed nose and a big fluffy tail. He barks all the time. He always grumbles at me but I just ignore him now. He’s always on the lead so I run past him as fast as I can making sure I’m just out of reach – hee, hee.

The latest incident was much more frightening. I think his name is Doug. He’s an Australian cattle dog with an attitude problem. Maybe he’s forgotten that we used to play together when he was a puppy because I swear he tried to kill me. Thank fully he was on his lead and his human didn’t stand for any nonsense. He must be a strong dog though because his human had to pretty much sit on him so we could get past. I don’t think I’ll shed any tears over him when I go to America.

I’ll introduce you to my friends next time.

Yawn

Man it's a tough life. It's very nice of my human to let me have my own sofa. I wish she wouldn't make me get off when we have visitors though.

It's gone very quiet on the US front. Haven't heard her talking about it for a while. Maybe she's changed her mind and I don't have to go on the plane.

Almost the weekend. I wonder if she has anything exciting planned for me. I'd love a run on the beach.

No sign of any clothes, maybe I've got away with that as well.

What's in a name?

I'm struggling a bit here. What do I call the one who feeds me, walks me and looks after me? I think she'd like it if I called her the boss but that's not really true. We have this mutual understanding where she asks me to do something and I do what I want. OK I'm not that bad but I do suffer from deafness at times. So I don't think boss is the right thing to call her. Owner is far too possessive for my linking. Slave? Hmm maybe not, I'm working on it but not quite there yet. I'm going to try with 'my human' for now and see how that works.

My human measured me today. Not weighed, measured as in length, width, height. I'm a bit worried she might be thinking of buying me some clothes. I hope not. I'd get laughed at by all my mates. I don't mean to offend anyone but dogs in clothes - it's wrong! Not even a 'super dog' outfit would change my mind... although... Super Dog Ben to the rescue.... no, it's wrong! Pleeeeeease don't buy me any clothes. It's bad enough having to wear that harness in the car but if you've seen my human's driving you'll understand why I insist on wearing it!

A good weekend

Usually when we go away for the weekend it's a mad rush on a Friday night packing (mostly my stuff) then a quick walk round the block and into the car. This weekend I was tricked. No frantic packing or short walk on Friday night. It was a bit of shock to be woken up at 5.30 on Saturday morning though! We're early risers during the week but I let her have a lie in at weekends - 7 O'clock is about the right time to get up on the weekend isn't it?

Anyway, there we are doing the Friday night routine at 5.30 on Saturday morning. Into the car and the endless journey... to see my best mate Brandy. Yeah what a fantastic treat. I had no idea we were going. Neither had Brandy's person by the look on her face. Brandy is fed, groomed and walked by my person's mum - that's why we get on so well. Brandy is fab. He's a lab like me but he's yellow (golden if you are posh) and quite a bit bigger than me even though he is younger by a few months.

We had a brilliant weekend. We went for two long walks one with Brandy's friend Cassy a rescued Staffy. She's only young and full of beans. Boy can she run. I think I'm getting a bit old to be chased around by these young 'uns.

Ouch!

Ow, ow, ow! She took me to the vets today for a rabies jab. Aparently I need that so I can come back to the UK after our time in America. Everytime I go to the vets he jabs me. Apparently that's good because it means I'm healthy. Yeah right, you try that. She did take me for a nice walk after and bought me a susage from the chippy, so shouldn't really complain. Hmmmmm sausages, my favourite.

The start of it

Oh my, I didn't see that coming! My owner has been given this great opportunity to go the US for 6 months with her work. Don't ask me what she does, something with computers that's all I know. They don't interest me - sausages, sticks and tummy tickles are what count in my life.

She comes home the other night and drops this bombshell of clearing off to the US. What happens to me then? I've heard her on the phone - "do you want to foster a dog" - I'm guessing she means me? She never asked me if I wanted to be fostered. Then there is all this talk of taking me with her. Something about pet passports and aeroplanes.

Don't get me wrong - I love her to bits but she knows I hate the car and the nearest I've been to an aeroplane is when they fly over our house. I don't think I'm going to like this one bit.