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Archive for March 23rd, 2011

Dog Blog: Lynx’s Diary

Posted by indigodream on 23 March, 2011

Saturday 19th March

We's doin' chargin' around - I's so fast in the front that I's just a blur...

We’s not dun boatin’ this week but I’s decided to rite about me doin’s anyway coz I’s had a dretful week….

It all started when mummy Sue made some liver cake – she liquidised a pack of raw liver – it smelled disgusting lushus, then she added some garlic – it smelled terrible lushus, then she mixed it up with raw egg and flour – it smelled awful lushus then she cooked it in the oven and it smelled of garlicky liver – oooh – I’s almost died o’ dribbling it was so good. But then, THEN, mummy Sue cut it all up, put it in little bags and put it in the freezer wif the ice cream – she sez it’s a special treat for when I goes to dog training. Oh sure, we got all the nice crispy edges to eat but I wants the whole cake – I’s been smellin’ it for over and hour and all I gets is crumbs – huh.

Mummy Sue forgot to go to Pets at Home last weekend so we ran out of nice chewy treets – the cupboard woz bare – we woz sad. So we guilted mummy Sue into feeding us nice stuff like sardeens. Her friend Jenny, wot has the mad spaniels, gave mummy Sue a recipy for sardine cake! I woz hexcited but mummy Sue sez she’ll only make it when she gets over the smell of the liver cake!

Talking of smell, has you had tripe? It is be bestest, most delishus stuff in the whole doggie world. When mummy Sue remembered to go to Pets at Home she filled the whole cupboard wif treets and bought two packets of frozen tripe. The cupboard full is worse than the cupboard empty – we knows the treets are there – we needs to eat them – all of them – now! We’s prowled and paced, we’s whined, we’s tried our hypno-stares, but mummy Sue just won’t put the whole box of piggy lugs on the floor for us to help ourselves.

See, Lou's cutting the corners to catch me - she's a big cheat! We's still a blur - even tho we's retired!

Then she sed “if I feed you prop’ly you won’t need treets” so she boiled one pack of tripe for us. She defrosted it in the microwave – it didn’t smell o’ nuffink; she put it in the saucepan wif hot water – it didn’t smell o’ niffink; then it came to the boil and blew the lid off the saucepan – the most lushus wonnerful smell filled the house – woz in every room – we’s sniffed it like perfume. I duzn’t unnerstand mummy Sue at all, she woz makin’ funny gagging noises and she run out the front door an’ let all the cold air in.  “Shut the door, mummy Sue” I sed “you’s spoiling the lushus smells” but she ran back thru the house and opened the back door as well. We hounds woz inside wif the saucepan, enjoying the smell, an’ mummy Sue woz outside making funny sicky noises. Then, all of a sudden, she put a cloth over her face, ran into the kitchen, grabbed the saucepan and ran outside wif it to the back garden. Help, mummy Sue’s gone mad! We followed the saucepan, but it woz boiling hot so we wozn’t allowed to help ourselves. So we woz inside and the saucepan of lushus stuff woz outside – but wot if the foxes ate our tripe? We’s sat by the window and wotched it and wotched it. When it woz cold, mummy Sue put the cloth over her face again and used a long long ladle to put the tripe in our bowls. I duzn’t like eating outside in the rain but the tripe  woz worth it – ooohh it’s so lushus – we’s scoffed the lot and woz looking for more. But mummy Sue she’s NEVER EVER EVER cooking tripe in the house again – we’s got to wait until daddy Richard lights a barbecue and she’ll cook the last packet of tripe outside. I duzn’t unnerstand – barbecuse are for making sausages and steaks not tripe……

The only good thing is that mummy Sue sez liver smells luvverly compared to tripe so maybe we’ll get more liver cake instead!

She woz afraid that the smelly tripe would make us smelly too – but it woz ok – we wozn’t more smelly than normal, well, that’s pretty smelly, but she sed it could have bin worse.

I is the champion....

Mummy Sue’s bin makin’ all funny noises this week – she woz larfin’ and larfin’ the uvver day coz Ty stole doggie treet sausages from the worktop and ran off trailin’ a string of sausages behind him – just like a cartoon dog. He’s a clever thief – by the time Mummy Sue caught him he’d eaten the evidence! Mummy Sue reckons Ty should have a world record in eatin’ fast, ‘specially piggy lugs – one crunch and they’s vanished!

We woz full of energies after our tripe, so after we’s had a little sleep me an’ Lou did chargin’ round the garden. Lou’s a big cheat – she duzn’t chase me prop’ly – she ambushes me round the side of the shed and the side of the bonfire pile. We’s had the best time tho’ – I’s very fast an’ I woz runnin’ round, whee, I’s winnin’ the race, I’s Lynx the champion – look at me mummy Sue – look at me stopping an’ lyin’ down an’……coffin’……..cof coff coff. Then in the night I’s had to sneeze – not girly snuffly backward sneezes, but proper big manly sneezes – achoo, achoo, achoo – I woz very hygienic – I’s sneezed into mummy Sue’s jumper and I wiped my nose on her trousers so snot didn’t got ev’rywhere.

Mummy Sue finks I’s got doggie man flu – i.e. there’s nuffink wrong wif me. I fink she’s not givin’ me proper sypafy so I’s coffed again and she took me to the vet. Coz I had coffed, the vet wouldn’t let me inside – I’s had a thermometer stuck up me bottom in public in the car park where all the lady dogs could see. I’s hid me face behind mummy Sue – hope no-one recognised me. Anyhoo, the vet sez that maybe perhaps I’s got kennel coff, wot is contagious, and I’s in qwar-an-tine for the weekend. Is nice qwarantine – at home wif Lou and Ty and all the treets and me beds. Mummy Sue still finks I gots doggie man flu – I hopes so, coz I’s got some doggie pals coming for a sleep-over next weekend!

That's enuff charging around - time for a little kip...

Me dretful week went on and on – one night I asked mummy Sue if I’s could go out and she said “you’ve just bin” and she went to bed, but I woz bustin’ so I’s had a hooge wee inside the front door – mummy Sue heard and she came charging down the stairs to let me out. “Stop stop” she’s yelling – but there’s no stoppin’ a hound in mid flow. Anyhoo, mummy Sue put on her wellies and opened the front door – coz she’d woz yellin’,  Lou got hexcited an’ went chargin’ out the door, but I slipped in me own wee and went flying into the door an’ bashed me leg. Mummy Sue woz all of a panic – she thought I’d broken me leg so she got Richard out of bed to do sum mopping but he forgot to put his wellies on – oops! I woz bein’ all pafetic coz I thought maybe she didn’t luv me no more. Mummy Sue wiped me down wif a fluffy towel and checked that me leg wozn’t broken an’ made sure that I gots cuddles, then she got busy wif the mop. It woz all a big commotion, but she sez she still luvs me loads and now she’ll always let me out when I asks – I’s forgived her – it takes time to train hu-mums – as Fudge and Friends say.

Now mummy Sue loves me, so she can’t ever believe that I woz weein’ becoz I woz naughty, so back we goes to the vet – I’s stopped coffin’ but then I gots a runny eye so I had to see the boss vet man ‘stead of my favrit Blondie. Is sort of good news – my coff has gone so we can have our houndie sleepover this weekend; then the vet sez the weein’ is a hinfection – I’s not bein’ naughty at all so I’s got some tablets for that; and I has epi-scler-itis wot means that my eyes get sore when I’s bin sunbathin’. I’s got speshal eye drops for sunny days but I’s liking the idea of cool shades, coz I loves sunbathin’ and I duzn’t want to stop. I’ll have to tell mummy Sue wot to buy coz I’s got me street cred to think about and, oh course, they got to look good in me holeeday snaps.

But the most dretful thing of all is that mummy Sue is lookin’ for a proper job – “oh no” I sez “wot about my cuddles?” She sez is ok – she’s hoping to work 3 days in a hoffice and have four days at home, an’ she promised me that all four home days is just for cuddles. If she gets a proper job we’s got to work too – one day walking on checking drawins at Richard’s office, one day protectin’ nanny Renia from sqwirrels and one day to rest in our beds. I’s very wurried, but then mummy Sue sez she’s got to do a ritin’ test. I’s cheered up straight away – mummy Sue’s gramer and spellin’ is atroshus, not like wot mine is. I woz wond’rin’ wether to help her coz if she gets a job then she can buy more treets but if she duzn’t get the job then we gets more cuddles – wot do you fink?

Is a very big moon tonight – is you doing howlin’? I’s asked mummy Sue wether we should be doin’ howlin’ – she sed she’d rather we didn’t!

Lynx’s guide to eatin’ a chikkin sandwich:

  • Take your sanwich to a quiet corner – don’t forget to dribble all over the floor
  • pick out the chikkin and eat the chikkin
  • look at your mummy to see if there’s any more chikkin
  • if the answer’s ‘no’ then lick every bit of the butter off the bread
  • look at your mummy so see if there’s any more chikkin
  • if the answer’s ‘no’ then eat the bread
  • ask your mummy for another sanwich – wif extra chikkin, hold the bread…..

This is me wurryin' about stuff - like why does I get dog food when there's a rib of beef roasting in the oven?

I likes to rest my head on mummy Sue's chair so that she knows that I loves her......dinner!

Me an' Lou doing the 'watch me' command - we's very good so give us our treets!

Just showin' mummy Sue how big me mouf is so she doesn't waste time cutting the food into little bits.....

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