Dad’s xmas party

I told you all about Karting Day in a previous post, my dad and his hooligan friends drinking far too much and getting rowdy. That’s a tradition that has been going on for quite a few years as I understand it; the other annual tradition that this infamous group of rascals indulge in is the xmas party. It’s variously known as “The Big Boys Christmas Party” or “The 5 o’clock Club Christmas Party” among others but every year they get together on a day/night between boxing day and new years eve. Dad has only missed one when he had to attend a wedding in South Africa, but when he got back they had another xmas party in mid-january so he didn’t miss out. They start about 4 in the afternoon and then it seems it goes on until the last man is standing. This year, apparently it carried on until 1am before the bar staff had had enough and closed the pub.

My dad doesn’t drink as much as the others all year and only gets drunk on this night and of course Karting Day, so he was home by 10pm. Mom had to go and fetch the drunken fool, and in he came in a dishevelled state. His grinning face all pink and he was slurring his words as he told us what great dogs we were. Yeah thanks dad, just go to bed.

I heard a story about him and his mate when they went to Nepal a few years ago, they sat there in a place called The Last Resort and drank beer for 13 hours solid! The next morning, despite staggering around under the crushing weight of the worst hangover in history, they went white-water rafting!!!!!

Jingle Bones

What a mad day! We’ve been out for two walks today & seen loads of our friends in the fields; we love running in  a pack. Mom and dad went out for a while to see auntie Teresa and left us to sleep off our first walk. When they came back we went out for our second walk.

When we got back, dad came down the stairs with some large bags, Jess and Alf were getting all excited which made me excited too, although I didn’t know what I was getting excited about… hehe. In the bags were presents! hooray!!!! We had toys, rawhide bones and duck wraps (my very favourite treat). Jess had a new bed to put in her cage, and you know what? She hasn’t come out since! She climbed in, head down and went to byebyeland. Me and Alf have raced around the house and jumped all over the furniture pulling the toys and fighting like a pair of loony dogs. I enjoyed the day so much I can’t tell you, it’s been wonderful.

I can’t spend too much time writing because I’ve got another fight with Alf pending and I can’t leave him waiting – he might start without me.

I just want to say thank you to all my friends who have been reading my inane drivel for the past few months. I hope you enjoyed xmas as much as me and I hope the new year brings great things for all of you. Spare a thought for all those who are lonely, hungry and cold this year and pray that they find comfort. Love to you all – Merry Christmas.

Gotta go – Alfie’s waiting…….

Poor little Bones

I should have learnt from last time – but you know what it is like when you’re young….

Bones’ belly has been a bit upset for the last couple of days, I haven’t really felt like blogging, I haven’t eaten anything and I puked my guts up a few times. Sorry if that’s too graphic an image for you but it’s true. I have been a poorly little man. Remember a while ago when I ate something I shouldn’t and it made me sick? Well I think this time it was the rug in the living room that I’ve been nibbling away at; it could be the digusting tasting fake pine cone on the stupid xmas tree; it may have been something I chewed over the fields, but whatever did it to me I should have known better that to eat it. Mom and dad are constantly telling me off for eating bad things but I admit I am a bit headstrong.

After a couple of days of not being able to even look at my food and just eating chicken and rice that mom cooked for me along with the odd gravy bone, which I love, I couldn’t even eat them. My dad said he worries when I don’t take a gravy bone (and at least two of his fingers) when offered, so it was off down to the vet. I don’t mind going to the vets because they treat me really well and give me loads of fuss, plus it is at the back of the pets at home superstore so I know I’m getting a poorly present. The vet we saw was Maggie, a really nice skin who originally comes from a place called Poland but I don’t know where that is, it might be past the far side of the fields. Maybe I’ll go have a look for it one day if all the skins there are as nice to me as Maggie is.

I didn’t enjoy this visit to the vet though. She squeezed my stomach and stuck an univited finger where the sun don’t shine….OOOF. Then she scrunched up the scruff of my neck and stuck not one but two needles in me! ooowwwwww!!!! One of them really hurt me as it felt so cold it was almost like a burning sensation. Jessie has two injections per day and it doesn’t bother her, but my hide is alot tougher than the skin on a collie so I was surprised by the pain it gave me. I tried to be brave but it really hurt and when mom put me on the floor I went into the corner and curled up: I just wanted to be on my own for a while.

When we got home Skinny Alf and Chubby Jess came over to see if I was ok, they licked my face and told me they’d look after me. I told them I didn’t need looking after but I was glad they were there all the same.

It’s the next day now and I feel right as rain, I’ve eaten a bit of food and had a fight with Alf over a toy so things are back to normal. I even ate my nice chewy tripe stick that mom got me as a poorly present for when I felt better. Just glad I’m ok in time for my xmas dinner.

Their snow business

It finally happened, the snow came! Although there wasn’t alot of it, Alf told me it was much deeper last year, the world was white when we went for a walk yesterday morning. HURRAY

Mom drove down to the fields because she said the pave ment was a bit slippy and we’d pull her over in our excitement. And excited we were, we couldn’t wait to get out in it. When mom opened the car door we scrambled over each other to get out and make the first paw prints. I didn’t mind that it was a bit cold on my paws and that my nose was getting frozen as it ploughed a little furrow. I loved it, jumping in frozen puddles and hearing the ice crack, picking up chunks of ice and feeling the cold on my tongue; this was a winter wonderland.

We met some other dogs and went running with them, one of them was Theo, a black labrador who lives in our street but we didn’t know the others; don’t matter – new friends are as new friends do. (Does that even make sense?) One of the strangers was golden lab and the other was a beagle. We ran round and round the field together at top speed, all of us trying to keep up with Skinny Alf, even Chubby Jess was putting in a shift at the back with that manic grin on her face and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

Things turned a bit sour when Alf and the beagle had a falling out over something and nothing, it ended up with Alf pinning the beagle to the ground with teeth bared and gums showing. I growled at the labrador to keep out of it, but it was quickly broken up by mom. I don’t know what this beagle had said to Alf to make him angry because Alf is normally quite placid. It was soon forgotten though and we carried on with our mad dash around the fields. All the joy of being alive warming our wet bellies.

As I write this, I can see out of the window from my position on dad’s desk, the snow is almost all gone already. Shame, it was great fun while it lasted, but Jess thinks there will be more snow on the way very soon.

Stupid christmas tree

I don’t like it, I’ve told the others I don’t like it and now I’m telling you: this tree is stupid. For one thing it’s too big, they’ve put it the other side of the coffee table – right in the middle of my racetrack. I go bombing around that table two or three times a day, out through the hall, into the kitchen, and into the garden, three laps of that then back into the house and around the coffee table a couple more times. Its my training course, now that stupid tree is there and my course is ruined.

They’ve not put lights on it because they think I’ll electrocute myself when I widdle up it. They’ve hung things like little wooden soldiers, fairies and a glass slipper but all out of my reach, there are fake pine cones that honestly taste disgusting and theyve put these glass balls on it of different sizes. One of the larger ones on the lowest branch contains a dog that wants to fight me but I can’t get to him because he’s inside this shiney gold ball. I think he’s a Border Terrier like me but his face looks funny, sort of warped. He looks like he’s barking at me when I bark at him but he doesn’t make any sound, I’ve tried biting his nose but this gold ball swings away and then comes back to hit me on mine. The dumb collies think it’s funny when I try and fight this other dog but I don’t care.

Stupid tree, stupid collies, stupid gold dog, STUPID CHRISTMAS!!!!! Bah humbug!

Democracy for dogs

The day has arrived, the votes have been cast and the results are in. I can finally reveal the results of the Great Coat Vote!

Its been a close run thing, I can tell you, the vote was so popular that, fearing a riot, some of the official polling stations actually had to stay open longer to accomodate the hordes of voters who were yet to cast their ballot. There have been accusations and counter-accusations of ballot -rigging; the British media printing outlandish tales about yours truly; mass demonstrations in Russia; dodgey goings-on in the state of Florida (again?) and Fox News announcing a winner before all the votes had been counted properly.

Against all this controversy, I believe that this time democracy will be the winner. Here are the results my friends: (drum roll please)


No way, Bones is tough enough: 25%

Yes, Bones is still a puppy, keep him warm: 37.5%

Bones is old enough to decide for himself, let the boy have his say: 37.5%

By the power vested in me by….well….me, I declare this vote a draw!

Now obviously, under the circumstances, a draw is no good to skin nor pup so there has to be a deciding vote cast to determine the outcome. Who should we turn to? What great statesman is worthy of taking on such a task, with the fate of a young pup’s dignity hanging in the balance? I believe there is only one that we can trust to be encumbered with this great burden; one whose honesty and integrity is without question, I refer of course to……! Get lost, you don’t think I’d trust this to any old skin do you? No, as I’m the one whom this concerns then I am the only reasonable choice to cast the deciding vote.

Bones votes (another even longer drum roll please) LET THE BOY HAVE HIS SAY!!!!

This means my friends that not only did I have the deciding vote, I can also decide whether or not to wear a coat. Ooh the agony of choice……I choose….. no way are you getting me in a coat pal, anyone tries – they lose fingers!

Looking for God

In the news these terribly bright skins are preparing to announce details about their hunt for the elusive Higgs Bosun, the so-called God Particle. I’m not going to go into too much detail about theoretical particle physics because I am still a puppy, so if you are of a nerdish disposition and want to learn more then follow this link to the BBC website where more info is available.

The long and short of it is, these scientists have spent billions to build a machine to find the tiniest thing you can imagine, and they don’t even know if it’s there or not. If it is there where they predict and it is the thing that gives everything its mass then they will have proved right the standard model of physics. But here’s the funny thing: they don’t want it to be there! If they can prove its not there then it opens the door to new theories. New theories create new opportunities for investigation and new reasons for them to build machines that cost billions and give them a reason to exist.

On the other side of the life, the universe and everything coin are the skins who believe what it says in the Bible, God created heaven and earth, plants, animals, sky and sea, and last of all skins in six days and rested on the seventh. No wonder He needed a rest after all that. The thing that bothers me the most about this is why would He invent skins in the first place? Seeing as He knows everything, He must have realised that they would set out to bring the whole house crashing down on top of them? Like termites, their whole purpose seems to be to destroy everything.

My question is this: what does it matter? This endless and pointless search for knowledge about our planet’s place in the universe, skins….it don’t matter. What matters is where we are now, today. What matters is instead of hiding in a laboratory underground and looking curiously up your own butts, go outside, feel the sun warm your face, then you’ll know where you are. Spend the money on lifting the third world out of poverty, give them tools, education and let them feed themselves. Stop exploiting them and keeping them down. There are 7 billion skins on this planet, many of them living in absolute poverty; without food, clean water, medicine, education, or a way of earning a living. So what the hell does it matter to them what’s holding the mass of the universe together? Why are billions being spent on these machines that only benefit the overly large brains of boffins when billions are holding out their hands?

Break down in communication

For such a young pup, I believe I speak in a very easy to understand manner, my pronunciation of barks, growls, howls and yelps is second to none. Yet skins, who think they invented language and communication, can’t understand what I’m telling them. Oh you got these self-styled experts who say this means this and that means that, but I’ve watched some of these programs with my dad and you can tell the dogs involved are only doing what they’re told because someone is slipping them treats, obviously they’ll do what the skin wants if they are being bribed – we’re suckers for treats! But they don’t really understand what we’re actually saying, we know what skins are saying but choose to ignore them until they produce our treats.

Ok, here’s an example: the other day I was in the back garden on patrol when I saw a cat I didn’t know, cheekily sat on top of the shed. I yelled at him to clear off, which he quite wisely did. Next minute the back door opens and dad’s there. Here is the conversation:

Dad: What’s all the noise about?

Bones: There was a cat on the roof of the shed.

Dad: What are you barking for lil’ man?

Bones: I just told you, there was a cat on the roof of the shed.

Dad: Did you see something?

Bones: Yes! A cat on the roof of the shed.

Dad: What was it boy?


Dad: Come on in now.

Bones: No, I’d better stay on guard in case that cat comes back.

Dad: Are you coming in or what?

Bones: No, I told you I’m staying out here, that cat could be nearby.

Dad: Come on in then Bones.

Bones: Are you deaf or just plain stupid? I can’t come in yet, if I abandon my post then that cat could come back, you know the one I mentioned that was sitting on the roof of the shed? I cannot allow that to happen, so mind your own business and let me get on with mine, OK?

Dad: Want a treat?

Bones: Coming dad.