Bones x5

Just a quick entry. It’s getting harder to find time on dad’s computer as he’s always on it…..get a life dad!

Ok so your old pal Bones is heading across the fields at the bottom of the road with Chunky Jess and Skinny Alf. We’d been out for quite a while and it was getting time to head off home.

Suddenly, from around the corner came a skin we didn’t know, and with him was an entire pack of Bones! Five Border Terriers, all of them looked like me, although they were a bit younger. They saw us and charged all at the same time; I turned to Jess and Alf and said, “we might have our paws full with this lot,” but they were gone. The cowardly curs had taken one look at this fast approaching wave of fur and teeth and thought better of making a stand.

I was shocked they were running, “Where are you going?” I barked.

Alf looked back over his shoulder and yelled back, “One of you is bad enough!” He went up another gear and left Jess trailing behind as they raced to hide behind mom.

I couldn’t believe it, I looked back at this unruly border rabble as they approached. Each of them yapping “Fight me!” “No fight me!” “Don’t fight him, fight me!” I suddenly realised that I might need to find a better place to sort this lot out – I didn’t want to get surrounded. I needed to get my tail up against something solid so they couldn’t outflank me. I did the only thing I could, and that was make a tactical retreat – with these five lunatics in hot pursuit. I turned when I reached mom.

Eventually the skin and my mom were able to seperate the ensuing melee and we parted company. As we headed off home, Jess and Alf were barking: “see what you stupid terriers are like? You just don’t care do you?” Alf said.

“You don’t give us any peace, always wanting to fight, well now you’ve had a taste of your own medicine,” Jess added haughtily tossing her head.

“That’s not true,” I protested, “I’m not like that! And don’t bark at me like that…unless you want a fight?” I  jumped up and nipped her jowls, just to show her I’m not one to be messed with.

Bones v the zombies

When I was a puppy, for those of you that remember that far back, I told you about falling asleep and waking up to be confronted by my first zombie. It wasn’t a real one of course, it was on tv: mom and dad were watching “The Walking Dead”. But I didn’t know and I woke up to see a close up shot of this undead thing staring at me with lifeless eyes. You’ll remember I growled a warning to it which made my family laugh and me a bit embarrassed. Zombies don’t exist, they’re just figments of the imagination of skins like George A. Romero and Mark Tufo…..aren’t they

Ok, well check this story out. In a place called Miami a skin was shot by police as he chewed the face off some other skin. Both of them were in the nip (pardon the pun), that means naked by the way if you’re not familiar with the slang.

The report says that the police told him to behave himself but he growled at them and carried on chewing, eating his nose and eyeballs! yeeeeuch!!! Then they shot him but it didn’t stop him so they carried on shooting until he was killed; what are the odds on the kill shot having to be to the head? Remember the only way to put them down permanently is to destroy the brain or seperate the head from the neck.

This is it, this is how it always starts. The beginning of the zombie apocalypse, be ready, be prepared: you skins are about to lose your place as the dominant species, top of the food chain. I’m going to sit in the front window and guard the house – Bones is prepared, are you?

Sneaky Bones

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!

The trouble with…generalising

Venturing into Cesar Millan’s website is like venturing into my backyard: sooner rather than later you’re going to come across a huge pile of poo. To prove my point here is a particularly smelly article titled “What Does Your Dog Breed Say About You?”

One of the biggest problems in the world is the tendency to make generalisations about others based on certain characteristics: eg. the trouble with fat/skinny people, gay/straight/bi people, christian/jewish/muslim/hindu/sikh/buddhist people, black/white/brown/yellow people is……… followed by a sweeping statement based on…well, nothing. It makes us feel superior to others, a comforting thought to keep us warm at night – things aren’t great but at least I’m better than…

It only serves to divide us, set us against one another when we should be joining together and making it a better world. An individuals race, creed, colour, breed or body mass index are not what should be taken into account, but their belonging to the great family that populates this lonely rock spinning through space should. Don’t look at others as different, embrace them for being the same as you: thinking, feeling, fearing, enjoying, loving. I can’t remember who said it but someone once wrote something along the lines of: “Every face is beautiful because every face is the image of the creator.” I apologise if I slightly misquoted there but you get the gist.

By the way, I’m not blaming all the ills of the world on the dog botherer, I’m sure he’s a very nice skin; I was just making a generalisation about skins who make generalisations….oops!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The philosopher Bones 

A puppy no more

Yesterday was an amazing day for your little Bones. Mom was off work and she and dad were acting a little strange, nothing amazing about that – skins are strange. Anyway, I was minding my own business trying to decide what mischief to get into first when dad came in and put a lead on me. What’s he up to? I thought, its not walk time and he doesn’t usually take me anyway. I was taken outside and put in the car; ahh we must be going to the vets.

As it turned out it wasn’t the vets it was the pet supermarket, even better, I always get fuss and treats off the staff and nobody’s going to stick a needle in me – brilliant! We walked in and sure enough the man by the till started fussing me and scratching behind my ears; he asked my dad if it was ok to give me a treat, dad said “sure, just count your fingers afterwards.” Cheeky bugger! We strolled down the aisles, dad occasionally pulling me away from stuff I wanted to pull off the shelves, he called me a shoplifter – now I’m a pretty strong dog but I seriously doubt I could lift a shop! We got down to where the leads and collars are kept and he put a collar around my neck to try it for size. The one I had was ok, red leather with studs, but this one was something else: black leather with little silvery bones  on it and a silver bone pendant. It could have been made for me. “Can I have it dad, really?” Dad didn’t reply but carried on walking with it in his hand so that must be a yes. We stopped by the toys and dad looked down at me: “Which one do you like boy?” I was getting excited now and proved it by widdling up the stand which dad hissed at me for. Which toy? There were so many to choose from but I liked the look of a nylabone with bumps and ribbing that would be great to chew. I stopped by it and looked up:

– This one please dad.

– Which one Bones.

– This one, the nylabone.

– There’s plenty to choose from isn’t there lil’ man?

– There is indeed dad but I’ve chosen this one, please stop annoying me and take it down from there.

– Made your mind up?

– Are you taking the…

He reached out and took the nylabone that I was after, “how about this one?” Finally! We carried on and he got some other things which I was looking forward to getting hold of such as little marrowbone biscuits and some fantastic tripe sticks, then we went to pay.

After getting home he called the other dogs and mom into the kitchen, mom and dad were looking at me in a peculiar way, sort of grinning like professional fools. Soooo…..? Then all of a sudden they burst into a song, made me jump I can tell you. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR BONESEYYYYYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU.” It’s my birthday? I didn’t know that, apparently I’m one year old. I stood on my hind legs and received the copious amounts of fuss I believed I was entitled to. Mom put my new collar around my neck and I felt so proud of it I thought I’d burst. I couldn’t wait to get down the fields and show my friends. Dad handed me my new toy which I ran out of the room with to go and play but then remembered there were tripe sticks so I spun around and went back. Sure enough the tripe sticks were ready to be served, they stink to high heaven but they are so tasty. They’d even got me a birthday card with one corner chewed off and a little poem about a puppy inside which dad read out to me; “do you mind dad? I’m in the middle of a tripe stick, anymore gushy stuff and I might be sick!”

One year old, it seems like such a huge amount of time that I can’t even comprehend what it must be like to be as ancient as Jess. Does this mean I’m no londer a puppy? I should start being more responsible, better behaved, stop looking for fights, stop chewing furniture…..or maybe I’ll save all that for when I’m two. hehehehe

 

The best toy of all

I’ve always enjoyed attacking my dad, not in a nasty way of course, just jumping on his slippers or pulling the bottom of his trouser legs. Anyway my repeated attacks coupled with regular wear and tear from his huge clodhopper feet meant that my mom went out and bought him new slippers. “There’s nothing wrong with my slippers” whined my ever-complaining dad, “They’re comfortable.” Mom looked down at them and sighed, “They could walk on their own by now!”

Later that day she came back with his new slippers and he reluctantly put them on, “Do they fit ok?” mom enquired. “I suppose,” mumbled dad, although you could tell he liked them straight away. “Give me your old ones and I’ll throw them in the dustbin where they belong.” Dad handed her one slipper, “where’s the other one?” she demanded. Dad looked around then back at her, “It’s gone, I’ll look for it later.” Off mom went to dispose of the toxic footwear.

When she left the room dad reached into the back of his waistband and pulled out the other old slipper; I was sat down at his feet looking up at him after my initial sniff told me I didn’t particularly like these new slippers, he grinned down at me and said, “saved this for you boy” and threw it across the room. CHAAAAAAARGE!!!!!! I grabbed the slipper and took it straight out into the garden, I lapped the garden a couple of times then came back in through the kitchen, into the hall and started lapping the coffee table. Alf was on the windowsill and woke up to shout encouragement. Jess made a grab for my prize but she’s so slow she came nowhere near it. I stopped running and shook it and shook it, growling through clenched teeth. I tossed it into the air and it landed on my head, so I shook it some more.

Dad was sat down watching TV so I took the slipper to him and we had a tug-of war, after a a couple of minutes he got it off me but I was already turned and into my stride by the time he threw it. I took it back to him and we played tug again. Just then mom came into the room and caught us playing with the supposedly lost slipper, we both stopped and looked round at her: “Boys!” she said with an air of exasperation and left the room, Jess hauled her big butt off the floor and followed mom, looking back at us trying to recreate the same expression. Me and dad watched them go, looked at each other then started wrestling with the slipper again.

Bones is a bad, bad boy

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!!!!!!!

 

 

Virtual Bones

I was reading an article my dad wrote for a website design company called Zero-One Design who he writes for alot. This article was about mobile recruitment websites, so you can look for jobs when you’re away from your computer. What interested me was a bit where he wrote about the quickening advance of technology.

Now let me get this right; only recently have you had computers in your homes? Is it true that they sent people to the moon with a computer the size of a house which was about as powerful as a child’s calculator? Now there are pc’s you can buy with a terrier bite of memory, oops I meant terrabyte. hehehe.

Right then, so the home computer comes along and its a bit basic, you have to load programs with a tape player going wwwweeeeeeeeeeaaaaaawwwwww. Then microsoft makes it easy to use with windows. The internet connects everyone in the world and all the knowledge of the world is available to everyone! hooray!!!! Well alot of it anyway, knowledge is power afterall so the powerful can only stay that way if they keep a bit of it all to themselves, I digress.

Then laptops come along and they’re taking up less space, you don’t need a desk as long as you have a lap (I won’t mention lapdogs, that would be corny). Laptops have got as powerful as pc’s so who needs a pc anymore? But wait! Laptops are still a bit cumbersome to haul around so they gave us netbooks which are nice and light. But you still need somewhere to set it down for browsing – ah the tablet! Tablets are there to get rid of headaches aren’t they, like not having to set something down to surf the web?

Mobile phones meant we could be in when we are out. At first they were big bricks and skins couldn’t fit them in their pockets, so the clever skins made them smaller….and smaller…….and smaller. Then just as they were about to disappear from sight, some clever skin said wait! How about using them to surf the net? But we can’t see the screens the world cried in anguish. Let’s make them BIGGER! Skins are so engrossed in their phones, they used to sit around a table as a family to eat their dinner, to talk about things. Then they just sat in front of their flat screen 47″ plasma tv and ate their dinners on their laps, lost in the maze of 100 channels. The vacant stare interupted just long enough to text and be texted.

One day, very soon, nobody will leave the house. Contact with the outside world will be conducted totally online. The only skins out and about will be those involved in helping people to stay indoors, deliveries, computer engineers etc. Social media means skins can have all the friends they need without ever having to bear the pain of actual physical relationships. They don’t need to leave their house at all: your groceries can be delivered,  bills can be paid online,  friends are always there when they need them: friends they’ve never actually met. Life is so much easier in a virtual world.

The very act of taking a walk, for the sole reason of breathing the air and feeling the sun warm them, will be viewed as unusual behaviour. It will mark them out as different; like skins you don’t know who pass you in the street and wish you good morning “must be nutters.”

I shiver when I hear the term “virtual pet”, for those whose busy lifestyle is too hectic for a real pet; cheaper because they don’t need to be fed, less hassle because they don’t have to clean up after them. If they don’t like their virtual pet, they can just delete it. Will we no longer be needed? Will we become surplus to requirements?  When skins as a whole no longer have time for a pet, when we’re just too much trouble, then they will have lost the capacity to love.

The great coat vote

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…..

The balance of power

I have to hold my paws up and admit it, that hellcat Raffles is still the big noise upstairs. Emboldened by my coup the other day when I ate his food from his bowl right under his imperious nose, I decided to go upstairs as there were still rooms I had yet to investigate. As expected I reached the top without challenge and all was quiet on the landing, perhaps too quiet. I strolled into one of the bedrooms and had a sniff round, looking for mischief to get into. I wasn’t paying attention until I heard a frightening hiss behind me. I spun around and blocking my exit was His Evilness, ambush!!! It’s funny but he seemed alot bigger somehow. His green eyes were like slits as he regarded me like….well, like a huge cat would regard a small puppy who was about to get his eyes removed by said huge cat.
A low growl began emanating from the dark tunnel of a thoat I could imagine myself disappearing down and I started to wish I hadn’t eaten his dinner; I was on the alternative menu. I had to think and quickly: fight or flight? I looked around the room but he had me backed into a corner, there was no getting around him and to be honest the thought of running away was one that was alien to me, I’m a terrier for heaven’s sake! I will fight! The problem was, if I was to fight then I would need room to work with, I couldn’t go head on, he was too big and too strong and those claws would rip a hole in me. But there was no room, I was trapped and muscled into a corner by a bigger, heavier and stronger opponent who knew exactly how to beat me, what was I going to do? My mouth was that dry I couldn’t even shout for Alfie.
I could feel my tail slowly going down between my legs and an involuntary shudder wrack my body; Raffles saw it too and grinned. He had heard dad go out and knew there wouldn’t be a rescue from him. He finally decided the end had come for me and raised himself onto all four paws and arched his back, his masses of ginger fur stood on end which made him look even bigger. This was it. I stood as tall as I could and got ready, if I could just avoid the first strike of that gigantic paw and maybe clamp on somewhere, maybe…….but it was no good, whatever scenario I played out in my mind there was only one conclusion – I was finished. I wasn’t going to cry even though I admit I felt like it, I wasn’t going to give the ugly brute the satisfaction. I gathered myself and decided to charge – death or glory!
As the massive white paw raised above my head looked as though it was about to crash down and I tensed for my final suicidal rush a figure appeared in te doorway: an angel had appeared and would rescue me! Nearly, it was mom. “Ok you two, that’s enough. Come on Bones, back down stairs.” I have never seen a more disappointed expression on any face. Raffles was absolutely devastated, he had obviously worked out the perfect plan of ambush and thought nothing would stop him from having his revenge. I was growling and yelling at him, telling him it wasn’t over yet and I was going to get him and he didn’t know how lucky he was.
Mom took me downstairs and put me down in the kitchen, I went into the back garden and breathed deeply of the crisp october air. I smelled familiar neighbourhood smells and cocked my leg on my favourite rock. I have never felt more alive than in that moment.