It's been a while, I know, but I've been very busy with various things that have required my full attention. You know how it is.
Before I go any further, I should explain that the chequered ball above Poppy's head in the photo above isn't a disciplinary measure for naughty dogs or children, or a hankie wrapped around someone who's about to leave home's possessions It's the banger for a dinner gong Mum got Dad for Christmas. The gong is huge and ancient and boy does it make a noise when it's walloped. It reverberates through the air and our ears for hours afterwards. The humans with their under-developed ears only hear it for about five minutes and they think that's amazing. I ask you! It talks back whenever Dad says anything too, but Mum's voice must be too high for it to hear I think because it never says anything when she speaks.
About a week ago, Pop and I had hair cuts (and baths, but we won't dwell on that). We hadn't seen Mrs Danning for ages, it having been winter and our mother deciding (for once) that fur was Quite Useful in the cold, but last week off we went to her house and when we came home we were sans quite a lot of fur and quite a lot of mud. I was silver (again. Sigh) and we rediscovered Poppy actually has two round eyes. Also, that she is Quite Small without her fur. And that my ears are pink, not grey.
Then last Sunday, we were abandoned. I ask you! I really thought we'd had this conversation and I'd made my feelings plain and that no further abandonment would occur, but there you go! Hopeless parents left us alone ALL DAY. Even the boys went, and they only stir from their rooms to go to the kitchen for food or to play on the computer, so I knew it was serious. I was convinced they weren't coming back, so we rationed our biscuits and tried not to be too frightened until thankfully we heard the key turning in the lock some time after lunch. Pop didn't ration her wee though- she spent a huge penny on the kitchen floor which Mum had to clean up when she got back :o)
Things improved during the week when Dad took a delivery of poo and spread it all around the garden. Apparently, it was from the Young Farmers who delivered it in their trailer. I can't understand why they don't use their own instead of flushing it away and paying for someone else's. So much for human intelligence. Anyway, it turned out not to beYoung Farmer's poo, but cow poo, mixed in with an awful lot of straw. We'd barely been allowed to sniff it before mum removed it all, muttering under her breath about husbands giving flower beds second rate muck whilst prized vegetable patches got finely sieved poo from the garden centre. To be honest, I don't think cow poo is as good as fox or badger anyway, but for some reason they don't sell that in shops.
Today, we've been out running round the Pig Fields only there were no pigs because they've moved somewhere else. There was some mud, but not much. I kept up all the way. Not bad for someone who's seven and a half, or fifty in human years. I am considered 'senior' on the pedigree website (just wish Poppy would take note of that).
We came home starving and ate a late breakfast while Mum had a shower.
After that there was just about time to bark ferociously at the postman who was too scared to come in the gate and threw the post in the general direction of the house instead (job well done there, eh?) before sleep overcame us.
You won't be surprised to learn that Poppy is responsible for the ruined bed area. For some reason her favourite game in the whole world (next to football) is to tear in from the hall at a furious speed and launch herself onto the beds which then skid into the wall with her flying along on top of them. The result is they get all rucked up like this and I barely have space to make myself comfortable. Sigh.
Poppy declined the beds (no surprise, considering what a mess she'd left them in), preferring to snooze on the back of the sofa while Dad is away at work and therefore couldn't tell her off and Mum was pretending she couldn't see her.
I hope all is well with all of you? I will try not to leave it so long before my next diary entry. It will soon be full Pigeon Watching time afterall and I really hope those of you who have yet to join the Pigeon Watcher's Club will do so this year.
With very best regards,