There’s nothing better than playing in the snow. We had a big old fashioned scrap this morning, every dog for themselves; Jess and Alf chickened out after a while and went back in but your pal Bones keeps playing until dad drags him in.
Just found this brilliant picture of Andy Murray’s border terriers wearing his medals. Well deserved my friends -you know what they say: “Behind every good skin is an even better dog!” Hmm, or did I just imagine someone said that?
Anyway check out the story: http://uk.eurosport.yahoo.com/blogs/londonspy/murray-dogs-wear-olympic-medals-040059424.html
Bones’ Diary has been silent for a while and there is a very good reason for that , your favourite Border Badboy can’t get near the computer! Dad is hogging it all the time because he’s getting loads of work writing articles and press releases for the clients of Zero-One Design, a website design firm. So while he’s happily tapping away like a mad tapper I’m sitting here twiddling my toes. It’s not fair! As you know, he doesn’t realise that I sneakily use his computer when he’s not around; if he found out I reckon I might suffer the same fate as the Three Blind Mice, and trust me – I really don’t want to lose my tail…what would I wag?
If I could, I would get my own computer, but where do I get the cash? He won’t give me any because amazingly he thinks I’m just an ordinary mutt, he must be the only one I know that doesn’t realise I am a blogging dog. Even my mom knows by now she’s raising a pup prodigy. There is no such thing as an ordinary mutt, we’re all special, look at Bassa, Sage or Bongo or any of the other fantastic dog bloggers out there in the blogosphere (can’t mention them all, I can hear him moving around and he’ll be back tapping soon!). We demand respect and we won’t stop barking until we get it!
I’ve been tagged by my friend Sage I’m not sure I know what I’m doing but I think it involves answering these questions then tagging some of my other friends; so here goes:
1) Describe yourself in 7 words. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. Oh hang on that’s just 6…erm…ok cute too.
2) What keeps you up at night? My brother Alfie snores!
3) Who would you like to be? Are you kidding? There is nobody I’d like to be more than who I am – life is good being Bones.
4) What are you wearing right now? Just the fur and my new collar, I got out of having to wear a coat this winter, ain’t gonna start now.
5) What scares you? ahhhhhahahahahahahahaha – oh please, don’t make me laugh.
6) The best and worst of blogging. The best is meeting new friends and reading about their day. The worst is not being able to do more in case my dad finds out I’ve been using his precious computer.
7) The last website I visited. That would be http://sagechronicles.wordpress.com/
8) What is one thing I would change about myself. I’d be slightly more brilliant and slightly less modest. hehehehe
9) Slankets yes or no. Not sure what a slanket is, but if I can’t eat it or fight it then I’m not interested anyway.
10) Tell us something about the dog that tagged you. Sage is a really cool Kelpie from Oregon, I’m not sure where that is but it’s probably on the far side of the furthest field, maybe one day I’ll slip under the hedge over there and see if I can find Oregon.
Here are the sites I’ve tagged, they’re the first 8 that wished me happy birthday the other day. If they have been tagged already by someone else then they needn’t worry about it, and anyone I haven’t tagged well I’m sorry, can’t tag you all.
I found this video clip and thought you might like it. It supposedly shows the legendary Icelandic beastie called the Lagarfljotsormurinn or Lagarfljots Worm, their version of the Loch Ness Monster. Check it out…
Now I’m not one to scare easy, Border Terriers are big-hearted little fellas, but this looks a bit creepy. I think maybe if it does exist and this is real video footage of a monster then it should stay in Iceland for its own good, because if it turns up in our pond down the fields then it’s “‘avin’ it” as they say around here. I’m the one and only little monster in this town pal!!!!
Let me know if any of you have local tales of monsters in your area; indeed if you have a monster problem that needs sorting out then let me know – have teeth, will travel.
As you know, if you’ve been reading Bones’ Diary for a while, I am still a fairly young dog and this will be my first winter. I enjoyed spring and summer immensely because the sun shone and it was wonderful to be alive; autumn was great because the leaves were scattered on the ground and I had fun scattering them further. Although I moaned in a previous blog about the weather, I have no reason to suspect winter to be anything else but brilliant. Life is grand and I love being a dog.
Some of the houses in our street have changed in the last few days: all of a sudden there are little lights all over them that flash and twinkle when it gets dark. Although I think Flash and Twinkle are the sort of dumb names that skins give to cats, I don’t let that distract me from this amazing sight as I sit on the arm of the sofa with my head behind the curtains. What is going on?
Alf tells me that christmas is coming, who is christmas? Why is he coming here? Does he want a fight? Alf laughed and said that christmas isn’t a who but a what, it is a special time of the year when skins get all excited and put on weight. Jess muttered as she lumbered past that christmas is also a “who”, she mentioned Father Christmas. I looked at Alf, “who is Father Christmas?” He told me that its someone who is also called Santa Claus who comes down the chimney. I was horrified: anyone comes down our chimney they get their butts chewed. Alf said that it would probably not be the real santa, but Jess in a red suit and fake beard, she’s the only one the suit would fit. I was confused: “What? How’s Jess going to get on the roof?” Alf smiled and said “that, my young Bones, is the magic of christmas.”
The postman looks tired, he has to carry all the extra cards that skins send to each other at this time of the year. Knocking the door with strange boxes that dad rushes upstairs with to hide. Dad hates shopping so he orders everything online from a big river called amazon. Skins buy each other presents to represent what these three wiseguys bought for baby Jesus when he was born in a shed. They were gold, frankenstein and mirth. Hardly presents for a baby but what do you expect if you invite gangsters to a party?
From what I understand of it, christmas is a special time when it’s supposed to be peace to all skins. I hope this year that someone listens to that message and really gets it this time. I heard that since Jesus was born there has only been a few days of peace, when there was no wars going on in the world at all… in the last 2000-odd years? Oh come on! Enough!!! Skins are constantly killing each other…..why? Is it because they can’t agree what is the best way to worship their God? Is it because of a line on a map? Is it because someone spilled someone else’s beer? All of the above yet not just because of the above. Skins are at war because they are too stupid to enjoy peace (I mean, what would they do with their time?) and someone somewhere else is making a fat profit out of others’ misery, pain and death.
Time to stop?
I’m not a bad dog, I’m actually a very good dog but sometimes my actions get misinterpreted by others…hardly my fault is it?
Dad was angry with me yesterday, I think he’s ok with me today but how long that will last I’m not sure. The thing is, he got involved in something that was really none of his business and paid the price for his interference. Me and Alf were fighting on the sofa and Jess joined in and grabbed my back leg; that was it, a free-for-all!!!! It was a real knock em down and drag em out scrap – each of us wheeling one way then the other, snapping and wrestling. Alf is quite strong and Jess has the bulk but I am small, fast and aggressive so it sort of evens out.
Dad told us to stop but we carried on so he strode over and grabbed Jessie’s collar and pulled her away, then he pointed at the windowsill and Alf disengaged, which left me trying to bite his tail as he left the battlefield. Dad said “that’s enough Bones” and went to grab my collar; unfortunately I was still in fighting mode so I turned and sank my teeth into his hand! He wasn’t best pleased.
His giant hand snaked under my chest and I was lifted off the sofa and carried to my playpen. Some of the words he used were not familiar to me but Alf has advised me not to report them on this blog. Basically he told me to stay in isolation until further notice. What is his problem? I didn’t even break the skin.
When mom came home she took us out for a walk, Jess didn’t want to go because sometimes she likes to go on her own private walk with mom after we’ve been out. She thinks she’s better than the rest of us! Anyway, me and Alf went down the fields where we met his girlfriend Ellie and her mom. We had a great time running around together but when it was time to go home I found a ball that another dog had left behind. That means more playtime!
I ran around the field with this ball in my mouth, totally ignoring my mom calling to me. Alf and Ellie were already on their leads and were waiting to go home. Alf was shouting at me to stop being naughty and come back -no way pal you’re just after my ball! I kept running close then veering off as mom and Ellie’s mom tried to grab me. Alf was getting angry, he was tired and wanted his dinner but my tank wasn’t even half empty yet; as the song goes: “…ain’t no stopping me now…”
Then mom played the trump card: she reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone and said “I’m ringing your dad!” She wouldn’t, surely she wouldn’t do that. Would she? She did. From where I was standing I could hear him: “WHAAAAAAATTTTTTT???????” Mom put the phone away and said to Ellie’s mom “He’s not happy.” I pictured the ogre pulling on his shoes and coat, rummaging around for his keys, his eyes ablaze with fury. Hmmm, perhaps this game isn’t fun after all. I dropped the ball and cantered over to mom and let her put my lead on. She rang him back and told him not to bother coming down.
We got home and he came downstairs with a face like a wet weekend, the stupid cats sat at the top of the stairs grinning, waiting for the fireworks, but none came. “Bones, I am not happy,” he said (tell us something we don’t know grumpy drawers), “you’re getting to be a pain lately, I’m sending you to see Maria.” I sat there looking up at him and cocked my head to one side like Alf does when he’s thinking. Who is Maria? He said no more about it, Alf shrugged but Jess wagged her tail.
Jess later told me who Maria is. Apparently when Jess was a puppy she was completely insane, just charging about all the time destroying every thing she could get her teeth into. She also used to bite dad every chance she got, nobody else – just dad. Eventually, after trying everything he could to get her to be a good girl, he took her away. They went a long way in the car to a place called Worcestershire to meet a lady who could do magical things with dogs. A couple of weeks later he came and picked her up and she had become a really good girl. A couple of times after that she had been to stay with Maria when mom and dad went on holiday and really loved it there. You can take a look at the link I found here.
This is to happen to me then? Yeah we’ll see. This Maria has never, ever met a dog as cool and as switched on as me. I’ll run rings around her. I’ll tear lumps out of her. Bones Rules!!!!!!!
The thing about democracy is that it’s too often taken for granted. The skins have the right to vote and yet so many of them squander the chance to have their voice heard. I know some say there is no point when all parties have basically the same policies decided for them by lobbyists for the rich bankers, industrialists etc. But these rights were fought for and won by your forebears. Stand up and have your voice heard.
The same is true for my coat vote poll: I gave you all the chance to vote for my humiliation in having to wear a coat this winter; or a vote of confidence in me being able to tough it out; the third option is to let me decide for myself, something I would prefer to be honest – I’m only a puppy but already old enough to know my own mind, and stand up on my own four paws.
There were quite a few views of this post but only a small amount of votes (4 I think and one of those was me!). Clicking an option won’t cost you anything, you won’t be re-directed to another page and you won’t download any viruses. It’s just a poll, a bit of fun for you but important to me in that if it goes the way I want, I keep my dignity and mom keeps her stupid coat!
VOTE NOW! VOTE NO TO COATS!!!!!!!!!
Mom wants me to wear a coat this winter, she says I’m just a puppy and I should keep warm. She saw a Sherlock Holmes outfit which she seems to think is cute….yeuch! Dad says that I’m a tough dog and shouldn’t be pampered, he thinks dogs have survived for millenia without dressing up like an idiot, why should they start now just for the amusement of their owners? Personally I lean towards dad on this one but I’m going to leave it up to my friends. If you vote ‘yes’ I’ll bite my tongue and put up with it, if you vote ‘no’ I’ll go without like a real dog. Either way, if its a Sherlock Holmes outfit – IT GETS RIPPED!!!!!
Should Bones wear a winter coat? You decide…..