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.

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!!!!!!!



Bones singin the blues

I don’t care what any tone deaf skin says – I am a great singer! My songs are tuneful and melodic, with a haunting sound that stays with you when you hear it.

This morning mom got up at the crack of dawn as usual, she has so far to travel to work, and took us for a walk across the fields. Jess refused to go, as she sometimes does because she’s a lazy lump and a bit grouchy in the morning. Me and Alf are always willing to go for a walk at any time so we set off.

It was really nice this morning, grass wet with dew, the sun beaming its warming rays down to us as if it was saying “Good Morning!” and the autumnal air so crisp you could snap it over your knee. Alfie shot off at his usual lighting pace, I was happy trailing behind because he cleared a path for me as he arrowed through the longer grass. Alfie stops every so often to make sure he can see mom and to make sure I’m ok; he’s my big brother so I don’t mind him being over protective, but I can take care of myself.

Eventually we arrived home wet and panting.  Mom had put me in my playpen after a good drink of water, where I usually stay until dad drags his lazy butt out of his pit. I like my playpen (or pigpen as dad calls it) because my favourite blanket is in there for me to curl up on and there are some great toys for me to chew. It’s actually a child’s playpen so there’s plenty of room in there. After a walk I curl up on the blanket and catch some zzzz’s. Dad likes me in there when he’s upstairs because it stops me chewing everything I can get my jaws around.

Now Jess decided she wanted a walk, she’s more of a brat than me and I’m a puppy! Mom said she would take her along the lane at the back of the houses, as she didn’t really have time to go across the fields until she got back from work. Alf was jumping up and down like a Jack in the Box, “Me too, me too, take me too!” So big softy mom said Alf could tag along, a second morning walk!?!?!? That’s not fair, I was just settling down for a snooze until I realised what was happening, but by then it was too late. They were gone, I was alone….well apart from him upstairs but he would be fast asleep. I don’t like being the only one, I wanted Alf to be there while I slept. I felt really sad.

I decided that because I felt so low, I should put my feelings into a song. A sad song that one day would be on the radio and a million tears would well up in a million sets of eyes, a million hearts would ache with there own loneliness as they knew how I felt. It went something like this:

yipyipyipyipyipyipwwwwwhhhhhhhhooooooooooooo yipyipyipyipyipyipwwwwwhhhhhhhhooooooooooooo

The yips soared high and the whoos dipped low and the whole world stopped to listen; to it’s simplicity, to its beauty, to its glorious harmonic grandeur. A banging on the ceiling suggested that dad had heard and was joining in with percussion. That’s it dad, feel the song in your soul! I heard him come across the landing like a low rumble of thunder and realised he was coming to duet with me, he was very welcome. This was going to be amazing! I wondered what he was going to bring, would he join in the yipwhoos or harmonise with his own lyrics? I sang louder as he burst into the room, waiting for him to take his cue.

What he added to the mix, wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT NOISE? SHUT UP DOG!!!!” His words hung in the air like smoke, even after he left the room and thundered back upstairs. I sat in the pen and pondered it all: hmm, he’ll have to work on his scales if he wants to be my baritone.

Helpful Bones

They say owning a puppy is a great responsibility, well I say being a puppy is a great responsibility. I have come to realise that I am part of the family and as such I should really be pulling my weight, and helping out wherever and whenever I can. This morning for instance. I was in my playpen in the hallway by the front door, or as dad calls it The Pig Pen (told you he wasn’t funny). The two collies, chubby Jess and skinny Alf were in the kitchen, with the back door open leading to the garden. Mom was out at work and dad was at the doctors having his blood tested for some reason, seems a bit strange to let other skins take blood off you and do experiments on it, but there you go – skins are strange.

Anyway I decided to be a great help by opening the post when it came through the letterbox and into my playpen. Deciding it was nothing important I shredded it so snoopers, going through the bin, couldn’t steal dad’s identity or something, like they warn about on tv. You would have thought I’d get praise for being such a helpful dog and protecting dad from identity theft, but you’d be wrong. Dad came in and immediately started moaning at me! Right, he can forget it next time.  There is just no pleasing some skins!

Funny Jess

Jessie, my big, and I do mean big, sister makes me laugh. Not just because she’s a collie crossed with a whale, not because every time I walk past her she grabs my back leg (?), not even because when she runs she looks like she’s just escaped from a doggie lunatic asylum, with her stupid grinning face and tongue hanging out the side of her mouth; none of the above, yet ALL of the above haha. No, she makes me laugh because sometimes she point blank refuses to get out of bed for our morning walk. Unbelievable! Walks are the best things about being alive; along with food, treats, fuss, killing cushions, fighting, a good scratch and biting dad….in no particular order.

How could any dog refuse a walk? It’s not every morning but if there’s even a slight hint of rain in the air, that’s it; she either lies there like a bearskin rug, refusing to budge, or sits looking all haughty and turns away when mom tries to put a lead on her. Meanwhile me & Alf are bouncing off the walls going mental. I don’t care if the heavens open and we get soaked, I’m out there. Alf told me about something called snow which is really cold and freezes your paws and nose, but it’s really loads of fun to roll about in; I can’t wait!

If Jess misses the morning walk then she usually turns out for the afternoon walk when mom comes home (that’s right guys, TWO walks a day!) but still, giving up a walk is like giving up stealing dad’s slippers – not something I would ever consider.

I’m just being friendly

Today is a bank holiday so mom isn’t at work, dad’s complaining (as usual) because he works from home and says he never gets a day off. Even if mom is working, she always takes us out for an early morning run down the fields before she goes. I love the morning walks, the air is fresh and crisp and the grass is still damp from the morning dew. The only skins around have dogs with them too. A lot of the skins come out around the same time so the gang can all run together.

As I mentioned before, there’s a big pond in one of the fields and we race to see who can get to it first and go splashing. Alf usually wins as he’s crossed with a racing snake. There’s also a big horse trough which we drink from after a hard run, I can just about reach the water now.

Today was a good day because I made two more friends. Charlie was there with his dad and they’d brought along two young king charles spaniels who belong to Charlie’s dad’s daughter. She lives a long way away so I’d never met these two before.

I mentioned before how I love spaniel ears (it’s strange but Alf burst out laughing when I said I love chewing spaniel ears, but he won’t tell me why….wierdo!), and I’m always hanging on to Ellie’s, so when I saw these two king charles I charged like a mad moose at them. You should have seen their faces – they were terrified! I didn’t want to scare them I just wanted to get my teeth into those floppy spaniel ears (shut up Alf!) but they weren’t having any of it.

Eventually, after we all calmed down and we’d taken care of the butt sniffing and other formalities we got on a little better. I hope they come and visit again soon, I’ll try to be a bit less wild next time.

I’d better go because dad needs the computer and Alf is cruising for a bruising!


I’ll be a Batchelor Bones

You’ll remember from a previous post that I have a new friend called Riya, well Alfie is still ribbing me about her saying she’s my girlfriend; I want to state once and for all – I HAVEN’T GOT A GIRLFRIEND!!!!!

Alf can’t bark though, he has got one, she’s a springer spaniel called Ellie and they run around the fields together like a pair of pups, neck & neck, all dewey eyed – it makes me sick. “Alfie and Ellie sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.N.G” lol! Don’t get me wrong, I like Ellie because the thing about spaniels is they have the chewiest, floppy ears. She puts up with me hanging on to her ears, alot more than Jess does anyway.

Oh and on the subject of Jessie, she’s got a boyfriend called Charlie. He’s a big, black labrador from just down the road and they grew up together. They stroll around the field sniffing stuff together and generally hanging out.

It’s great living here, the fields at the bottom of the road, the park around the corner and loads of dogs to play with. Oh, gotta go, I think I just saw Riya out of the window.


My new pal

Friends, I want to keep this short because dad is feeling a bit RUFF (get it?) and I’ve been a good dog looking after him. Lazy git been in bed for 2 days, but I’ve been trying to make up for a bit of chewing on various household items and furniture…ooops!

I’ve got a new friend. One of the dogs who runs over the fields at the end of the road is a German Shepherd bitch called Riya, she’s a little bit nervous and shouts at skins and other dogs. Alfie gets on with her, but Alf gets on with almost all the dogs, its just skins he doesn’t like. We have quite a little gang growing down there and I’m the newest member.

Riya is 18 months old I think and although I don’t reckon she’s fully grown yet, she’s already a big lass, especially to a little fella like me, so she can be a bit intimidating to others. The other day mom, Alfie and me were across the field when we saw Riya with her mom. She came barrelling across towards us, charging straight at me. I felt Alf tense up ready to protect me, big brother stuff – you know. I thought “no way mate, this one’s mine”; I steamed towards her, planning to run underneath her and trip her back leg before turning her over and taking out her throat, or something like that. I don’t care how big she is, she’s going to know she’s been in a fight when Bones starts – puppy power!

Just as we were about to crash into each other like a truck and a mini, and I was beginning to regret the plan to stage a head-on attack, she veered off. The wind as she passed nearly took me off my paws. I’ve got a fairly small turning circle so I was on her tail before she realised and closing for a cheetah style ankle-clip takedown. It was then I could hear her laughing as she ran and I realised all she wanted was someone to play with. Well, play we did, for about an hour we ran around the field chasing each other. She’s great. I saw her again yesterday and we flew around the field together like best mates.

The only problem is Alfie keeps making fun of me saying I’ve got a girlfriend. She’s not my girlfriend! OK????

Choosing the right puppy

Hi, remember the promise I made to share some of my wisdom on bringing up a perfect pup (like me)? Well that’s been sadly lacking in recent posts so I’m going to add another bit to it now.

We looked at making sure that you have the time, space and resources that you need to bring a dog into your household and your life. Now we need to think about the breed that will fill that space.

Considering the breed is an important part of the process as we are all different and present different charac….characteris…..we’re just different – ok? You have to consider the amount of exercise and grooming your dog will need. Also consider what size the dog is going to be when it has matured, if you only have a small living space then a Newfoundland or St. Bernard may not be right for you.

The best thing to do is go to the Kennel Club website where they have tons of information on buying the right puppy to suit your lifestyle: size, exercise and grooming requirements and breed information such as possible medical problems and temprement.

Choose carefully, your new best friend is going to be with you a while and you can’t trade them in for a different one if, when they grow up, they’re not what you were expecting.

How to Raise the Perfect Puppy (part 1)

Yes that’s right, I’m going to drop in a few tips on puppy training, feeding, vital equipment etc. amongst the rest of the inane drivel I spout. There are many experts out there on the world-wide whatnot who will give you mucho sound advice on this subject, but hey, why not get it straight from the puppy’s mouth? I’ll tell you how I’m being raised and hopefully I might be able to impart some wisdom, despite my tender age, that could prove helpful.

Remember my dear dogs and skins, if you want to ask me anything or leave some tips for others please feel free to comment on any of my blogs. I promise to answer any comments I receive; but please keep them clean, I’m only young.

The first thing I would urge you to consider is how much time, money, space and energy can you devote to what is essentially a new member of the family. Too often you skins don’t realise just what a handful we can be. Yeah we’re cute, especially me, but we are on a mission to cause as much canine chaos and doggy havoc as we can. We are destructive: we chew, we dig, we poo, we widdle; if you’re proud of your persian carpet or luxury leather sofa or ming vase….don’t get a puppy. If you live in a block of flats and you’re out at work all day….don’t get a puppy. If you have to scrimp and save to get enough money just to pay bills each month….don’t get a puppy. If you don’t like noise or mess and just wish for a peaceful existence…..DON’T GET A PUPPY!

Why would anyone get a puppy without thinking it through? I thought you skins were supposed to be top of the evolutionary ladder, some of you anyway. The amount of dogs in rescue centres around the country who have been abandoned by their owners because they were “more trouble than they’re worth” is just criminal. My big brother Alfie came from a rescue centre, a really nice one in Derby called the Second Chance Rescue Kennels where for the first time in his life he was treated well, check out the website: ; like I wrote in a previous post, he doesn’t like to talk about his life before that. Jess told me she thought he might have been treated really badly as a puppy because he still doesn’t trust skins he doesn’t know, especially the young ones, he goes mental if they go near him. Not nasty, just cowers away, barking like crazy. Although he’s not a nasty dog he did bite the dustman on the bum once, lucky the dustman’s got a sense of humour.

It’s a shame, there are so many dogs like him, abandoned but with so much to offer. He’s one of the lucky ones though, he’s got Mom to walk him for miles, Dad who he loves to get fuss off and a bit of a wrestle sometimes; Jess who is a bossy old mare who chews his leg like a chop, but would always stick up for him against bigger dogs when he was younger; and, of course, there’s me: the best thing that’s happened to any of them. Lets hear it for Bones!!!