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: http://secondchance-rescuekennels.co.uk/ ; 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!!!

My family and other animals….

Right, so we’ve covered chubby Jess and skinny Alf…..yeah, I said it. Now let’s have a look at the rest of them:

Dad’s alright for a skin, I get loads of fuss off him, and I can live with that. He spends alot of time on the computer, that’s why I have to nip in quick to write this diary. I don’t know what he does but he seems happy doing it, and it keeps him out of my fur while I dig his garden for him.

I think Mom might be a nutrit…a nutritit…..someone who looks after peoples’ weight, because every time Dad gives me a treat he says “There you go Bones, don’t tell your mother.”

Mom’s the dog walker, she takes us down to the fields at the bottom of the road and we get let off the lead. Alf bombs off like his tail’s on fire; I’m next, if I had longer legs I might have a chance of keeping up; finally, bringing up the rear is Jessie, she only runs in short bursts with a silly grin on her face and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. Sometimes I can’t run for laughing at her funny face. I can’t let her catch up though; being a border collie, she thinks she’s up on the hills herding sheep, and guess who the sheep is….yeah me! She comes galloping up like a crazed shire horse and if I don’t get out of the way she grabs my back leg! The big lump!

In the house where I live there’s an upstairs bit where we’re not allowed to go. There’s a gate at the bottom of the stairs to keep us out. Sometimes the skins leave it open but the collies don’t go up there, I decided to take a look and now I know why they don’t go…Raffles.

I should have listened, the collies said “don’t go up there short stuff, Raffles is up there”, I thought “what’s a raffle?” I knew there was a cat up there because I’d seen a little black and white face up peering down at me. Dad called her Millie and she trotted down the stairs to have a look at me on the day I first arrived. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t got anything against cats but I don’t want to be friends with one and she definitely didn’t want to be friends with me, every time I’ve shouted up the stairs to her she sticks her skinny butt in the air and flicks her tail; cheek, who’s she think she is? Alfie says cats are only useful for one thing and that’s chasing! Then he lowered his voice and looked up, “except Raffles….” What the hell is a raffle?

Anyway the day I decided to investigate upstairs I set off, I didn’t realise how steep stairs were, especially for a pup like me. There was a strange rythmic pounding that I could feel under my pads. I stopped: what was that? I took another couple of steps and the vibrations got stronger, then I could hear them: boom, boom, boom. I stopped again and listened, I looked over my shoulder and just caught site of the collies tails and they disappeared in different directions, what’s up with them? The pounding noise stopped but the warm breath stinking of fish from above told me that something might be wrong. I turned and looked up to be faced with a creature from hell. A huge ginger nightmare was staring down at me with green eyes blazing, a look of contempt seething on his demonlike features. I realised then what a raffle was.

Ok, he’s a big lad but out of shape, I do this for a living….if he wants to fight then lets have it. Yeah buster, you’ve never met a border terrier before have you? I heard Alfie call up from his hiding place “Bones, you’re not Scrappy Doo… slowly back away from the cat.” I looked back at Raffles to see a huge white paw about the size of my head hovering above me. My life flashed before my eyes – oh, that didn’t take long. Then an even bigger shadow loomed over both of us, Dad!

“That’s enough Raff, leave him alone.” Raffles obediently turned and the boom boom  started again as he went back upstairs, probably to finish the elk he was feeding on or something. “Yes mate, you’d better run, that’s it keep walking, you don’t know how close you came, any time you want to try…putemup, putemup!!!” He reached the top of the stairs, turned and smiled. I felt a little chill pass down my spine and I think a little pee might have leaked out.

Dad took me in the living room and told me to sit down. He gave me a telling off about keeping away from Raffles and how I should be careful on the stairs in case I fall. He’s right of course but as he wagged his finger in front of my face, I couldn’t resist jumping up and biting it….

 

My New Family

Wassup guys?

Let me tell you about where I live and my new family. I mentioned before about the two brutes that greeted me on my first day here, I’d better introduce them. They are two collie crosses, Jessie and Alfie.

Alfie is about 3 years old and has got to be the fastest dog in the whole world! Don’t get me wrong, I might be small but I’m quick, very quick in fact, but Alf….he is something else. I can only just keep up with him across the fields if I’m travelling full pelt. Jess reckons he’s crossed with a whippet but Alf doesn’t know, he can’t remember his parents, he was brought home by Mom from a rescue centre in Derby. I think he had it rough when he was a pup, but he doesn’t like to talk about it.

Jess is older and bigger, Alf told me she’s crossed with a bulldozer, but he didn’t say it in front of Jess; I don’t think she’d find it funny. She can be a bit grumpy when she wants to be….typical bitch. She’s ok though I suppose, you just try not to get on the wrong side of her.

I love Alf though, he’s like a big brother, I follow him everywhere. I know sometimes I get on his nerves, probably because I spend so much time attached to his face, chewing and pulling his ears, his jowls whatever I can sink my teeth into. He lets me know when he’s had enough because he growls and goes and sits on the big wide windowsill in front of the bay window, he knows I can’t get up there – yet!

I’ll carry this on when I’ve got more time, but I’ve got to go for a run around the garden; and when you gotta go, you gotta GO!

Ask Bones

If you need to ask me anything about rearing a puppy, dog training, getting the right equipment, food, going on holiday with your dog etc. Or if you’re another dog and you’re looking for a sympathetic ear then get in touch and I’ll do my best to help. Afterall, who better than a dog to answer your doggie questions? If I don’t know I’ll ask Jess and Alf, they know everything!