The Border on the border

I was watching the news on tv with my dad, I love doing that because he tends to shout at the screen more often, it’s so funny. So on the news it said that there is this thing going on between the two Koreas. The lads up in the North are getting cranky over the lads down in the South playing games with some American lads – did I get that right? So why won’t they let the Northerners play? What sort of game is it? I hope it involves a ball or tug rope.

Seriously though, I have got a toe on the geopolitical pulse. If my neighbour was messing about in his garden, banging on the fence, shouting insults and occasionally showing his bare backside atop the fence – wouldn’t I want to jump over said fence and sink my teeth in said bare backside? (I just want it known that this is a hypothetical scenario, my nieghbours are not the type of people who would show off their backsides, bare or not.)

All I am saying is: STOP WINDING THEM UP! They’re paranoid enough, they have a new boss who might not be politically astute and is possibly unused to diplomacy and, if truth be told, is a cartoonists dream. Scale down the war games and stop flying planes that are capable of dropping nuclear weapons so close to the border. The US spat their dummy out in the sixties and nearly pushed the button when the Soviets were going to place missiles in Cuba, they know what it is like to be threatened.

Ask yourself this: do you need me to go and sort this mess out? Do you really want this Border on that border?

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By the way, anyone who reads my dad’s blog will know that one of his family has published a book on Amazon called Crystal Healing and the Human Energy Field by Marion McGeough from the British Academy of Reiki. Click that link today and you can still get it for free. All she asks in return is that you write a review for it on Amazon, tweet a link, like it on facebook, blog about it or reblog this post. Thanks.

Right that’s it my friends, I hear there’s trouble brewing in the living room between the collies so I’d better go sort it out. Peace.

Slimy slippers

image courtesy of shoesbymail.co.uk

image courtesy of shoesbymail.co.uk

My dad loves his slippers, especially when the weather isn’t all that warm. I used to try to steal them and run off but he would go a bit mental and threaten to warm my backside with them! Which, I suppose, isn’t too bad when the weather isn’t all that warm.

I have found a new game that I like to play now. When he isn’t wearing them and he isn’t looking I sneak up and lick the inside. I know that sounds disgusting, and trust me it doesn’t taste that good, but the look on his face when he puts his bare foot in his freshly slimed slippers is worth a hundred warmed backsides.

Busy Border

It seems that I am so busy these days I don’t have time to do anything; rush, rush, rush.

Yesterday we had some snow, not a great amount, I wasn’t digging my way from the front door to the end of the drive to go for a walk – although that would have been great fun – no, it was just a couple of inches, a light dusting you might call it. Now, as you know, I love it when it snows, we all do. Alfie and me run around like maniacs and Jess just wants to roll about in it. I like the cold on my paws and ploughing a furrow with my nose to see what’s hidden underneath.

There is a problem when it snows though. I have to spend ages re-marking my territory. This is not just in the back garden either, there is the fields, the bushes up the park and of course every lamppost and gatepost in the street. It seems that for the next day or two after the come comes I am permanently balanced on three legs. How I don’t run out of widdle I don’t know.

I gotta go there are one or two bushes and rocks out the back I need to sort out…

A gift from Mother Nature

I am not being cocky when I write this but the truth is plain to see: I am a perfect machine. Mother Nature has made me this way. Sometimes the old girl makes mistakes and we get aberrations like Jess and Alf, but usually she gets things right.

I have bright eyes that let me see for miles, even without them my nose is so sensitive that I can picture the world around me just from scent. My ears can pick up the slightest sound and my brain is instantly alert. My fur is thick and wirey, it keeps me warm in the harshest of conditions and protects me from brambles and suchlike. I have a deep, broad chest that contains a heart that is so strong that I have almost limitless stamina. My legs are short but incredibly strong. I can run as fast and as far and jump as high as an olympian thanks to my broad, powerful hindquarters.

Therefore I resent my dad saying things like: “Hasn’t Bones got a fat arse?”

Have you herd?

This morning we headed out across the fields for our morning run with mom. As you might have guessed, dad was still in his pit snoring his head off. Jess was sniffing every blade of grass, I was running around her legs trying to wind her up and Alf had gone off somewhere. Next thing I knew, Alf came barreling over to me, “Bones, there’s a big pack of giant dogs in the next field and I think they’re looking for trouble!” He panted.

“They’ve come to the right place then, leave this to me.” Off I went to the next field to have a look and see off this giant menace. When I got there, all psyched up for a mega scrap, I realised that as usual Alf was making fun of me; they weren’t dogs at all, they were cows. Someone in their wisdom had put a load of cows in one of our fields! This means from now on it is off limits to us – not fair, we were here first.

I trotted back and told Jess, “They aren’t dogs, they’re a bunch of cows.”

“Herd.” She said.

“Heard what?”

“Herd of cows.”

“Of course I’ve heard of cows!” She must think I’m stupid or something.

Where have you been Bones?

I can’t believe it has been so long since I tapped out the last entry into Bones’ Diary. I wonder if anyone has missed me? You were probably wondering why it has been so long? Mostly it is because my dad has been hogging the computer too much trying to write his book: “Me & Gus on the Roof of the World.” At the same time he is writing his own blog to promote it and tweeting or twittering or being a twit…whatever, it’s just annoying! I suppose I could use my mom’s netbook but the keys are too small and close together for my paws. What’s a dog to do?

Maybe I could put in my letter to Santa that I want my own PC (puppy computer), and that if he brings me one I promise to be a good little dog. Which brings me to the other reason I haven’t had much time to write: I’ve been a bit of a bad lad. I developed a taste for furniture design and busied myself the other day reshaping the sofa; it’s not difficult, anyone can do it – a little chunk here and a little chunk there. Dad didn’t seem impressed with my artistry and went a little crazy, “You little ******* you’ve eaten the sofa!” Obviously I hadn’t eaten it, even chubby Jess couldn’t get that down her neck, I’d spat the pieces of foam on the floor.

He went out with mom for a couple of hours and when they returned he announced that they’d been and ordered a new one; he turned to me and thanked me for my efforts and said he was so pleased he had to pay all that money out. “My pleasure dad, would you like to consult on my redesign of the new one?” I don’t know if he understood that or it was the big smile on my face that he saw but he pointed a threatening finger at me and hissed,”Bones, if you even look at the new sofa I will beat you to death with your own freshly severed tail!” Hmm, a bit harsh methinks.

I’ve been keeping my head down recently, staying out of his way and behaving as best I can. That’s partly the reason I haven’t been on his computer, I don’t want to antagonise him. He’ll forget about it eventually and I can set about my next project, an armchair that I consider a tad overstuffed.