Fathers' Fist Fight

- by Beanz

Today, as we were out for our walk, we went past the Sunday morning lads' football match. And as we walked past, one of the fathers* (possibly also a linesman but we arrived too late to see what he was doing before the incident) dealt one of the other fathers serveral blows to the head.

This was all we saw because they were then surrounded by lots of wives** screaming, "STOP!" and to the soundtrack of coaches and refs bellowing, "Come AWAY lads."

What an excellent example to set to your sons on a Sunday morning. After all, it's all in the sportsmanship and all that really matters is a good clean game. How lucky that these men were there to point that out.

There were enough people there to sort it out, so we just moved along. There was nothing to see there.



* Of course, they may not have been fathers, they could have been uncles, dads' partners, step fathers or any other manner of male. The term "father" has been used for alliteration purposes. And brevity.

** Of course, they may not have wives. They may have been any other related female. Or football loving passer-by.

Daddy or Chips?

Today I have faced a moral dilemma of similiar proportion to the Daddy or chips debate.

Happy Saturday before Bonfire Night by the way.

I had planned an evening of You've Been Framed (Best of), Strictly Come Dancing, Robin of Sherwood and Casualty, full volume, accompanied by a loud, random selection of my 20 year span music collection. This (so the plan went) would drown out the fireworks and prevent the pacing, drooling and trying to get under the sofa. I made doubly sure by running a load of whites on 40 degrees and the dishwasher on economical. It was to be made bearable by a nice cold beer. Perfect.

Dogs walked in daylight, we got in at dusk as the first fireworks started. I prepared to drain the national grid.

Disaster.

I hadn't got the beer in.

Leave dogs to freak out alone or forego the beer?

Boy oh boy, I must really really love those dogs.

Me Me Me

- by Carlsberg
I hereby hijack this blog. Because I am so cute and photogenic.

It's all about ME! (To be sung to the tune of McFly)

New Favourite Place

- by Carlsberg
I have a new favourite place.

Candid Camera

- by Carlsberg

Someone sent us this. At first, TJam thought someone had secretly filmed her bedroom and then recreated the scene, using a man as the supporting character to protect her identity.

And there was me thinking that she didn't know about the baseball bat...

In Disgrace

- by Chips

There are a couple of behaviours TJam will not tolerate. Jumping up is one of them. Unfortunately, we meet a few too many people who joyfully call out, "It's ok! I don't mind!" and then give us a biscuit, thus support our view point that jumping up is very lucrative indeed.

I digress.

Last night, TJam and her friend Pin, were going out for dinner. Pin called round before they went out so they could travel together. Pin was wearing a coat not dissimilar to this one:

She had had to wear this coat because she didn't have another to match her cream trousers and cream blouse.

Can you see where this is going yet?

So, having been suitably walked so we would relax for the evening, Beanz and I greeted Pin in a doggy way. I went for the hip height area and as Pin bent over to protect herself greet us because we are so great, and Beanz went for the full "put front paws on arm in order to gain height for full face dog snog".

The following is an artist's impression of the coat post-greeting.

Pin didn't have another cream coat to match her cream trousers and cream blouse, so she had to go home and change her whole outfit.

She should wear dark brown.

I hope our clicker teacher doesn't read this.

I think it is a waste to spend my pocket money on dry cleaning.

Proud of Ourselves

- by TJam

Well, kind of. Below is our first example of video on our blog. It was supposed to show Beanz chasing squirrels.

Ok, so all you actually see is her running off.

There was some great footage of her trying to climb a tree. Unfortunately, I didn't press "start" til I thought I was pressing,"stop" so all I actually filmed was the side of my leg.

So, anyway, here is a beautiful view we saw this weekend. Does it get any better than this?

Squirrels

-by Beanz

Darn squirrels and their pesky squirrelly ways. They torment me with their hopping out of reach chattering and their jumping from branch to branch.

Hooray for the Rugby Club

- by Chips

Hooray for the Rugby Club. They must have had a party at the weekend. They must have had too much curry and rice. They put it out in a nice black bin bag.

See how orange it was. And so very delicious.

Deserted

- by Carlsberg

This weekend, my family deserted me and went down to visit the human family.

TJam, Bamgee and Bamgee's mum went to London to see Billy Elliot. TJam is not a theatre goer by nature, but she thought it was marvellous. So much so that she was tempted to just let it all out and start DANCING herself, then and there in the theatre. Luckily, she was saved from herself by a warning sign that said,

"The following activities are prohibited:

DANCING"

So they will have to sue their entire cast.

The following day, TJam helped Mum prepare a vegan tea for all the family (I'm sure they were thrilled). The sandwiches went down well and so did the chocolate cake. Fliptop helped lick the scraper (see pic).

The dogs did not eat cousin Xaja, although Beanz had a little lick.

Nerospal came to feed me and check I was alright, and I stayed away Sunday to make my indignation known. This evening I returned to cries of delight. I even brought them a worm. Gotta love my cat ways.

Post weekend

-by Beanz

Photo not approved.

I love it after the weekend, when all those rugby fans and weekend walkers come into my world of long grass and woods. I love it when they enjoy the pleasures of, ahem, having a poo al fresco. There is nothing as liberating.

I love following the scent and eating as much of it as possible. I enjoy the thrill of the chase as TJam runs up screaming behind me but never catches me. I laugh as she cries, "Come here, there's a good girl, I'm not cross with you" because body language doesn't lie and I am not stupid.

I do not like having my face wiped with long wet grass. I do not like walking on the lead when there is so much fun to be had.

I wish Harry Hill was there to say, "dirty boy" and make TJam laugh about it. She doesn't think it is funny at all.

Imperfect Timing

Time it takes to run upstairs and eat cat food without getting caught - (2s upwards + 24s inhaling and swallowing + 2s to laugh at the cat + 3s running downstairs) = 31 seconds
Time it takes for TJam to put the bin out = 27seconds

Opportunism

Opportunism (op-or-tune-izm) n The taking advantage of the short period of time that it takes for a human to exit the front door to clip the hedge, say to themselves, "Ooops, I didn't shut the stair gate" and return to the house to find a dog downstairs, tail wagging, to run up the stairs, raid the bin and eat 2 bowls of cat food and run down the stairs to play the complete innocent and not get found out until 2 hours later.

Yay for opportunism.

Technology II

It was the work mobile. The world didn't end.

In other technology news, my friend Meep has been asking me about subscribing to my feed. Yup, I didn't know what she was on about either. I had no plans to send sandwiches to the Midlands and I didn't know what else it could be.

Apparently you can get automatic updates of your friends' blogs. I'm not 100% sure how it works, but for those in the know, I think I have sorted out that link at the bottom of the sidebar that says, "Atom" and I think it should work. I've managed to subscribe to myself. I think. If you are in the know, please let me know if I've done it right. If you're not in the know (that's you mum, and you Bamgee), skip gayly onto the the next post. Skip along now!

My Mummy

That's mummy of the "it's a girl!" variety, not the Egyptian type.

My mummy is very good at making sandwiches and packed lunches.
She is also very good at making homegrown blackberry and apple crumble (but I didn't like the 3 small patches where the gravy had dripped down from the shepherd's pie).

My mummy is good at making shepherd's pie. She's good at making the washing smell nice.

She's good at a lot of things that are a lot more important than that, like being loving and stuff like that, but I'll tell her that in private. I just wanted to proclaim the sandwich thing publicly because she made a delicious marmite, lettuce and tomato baguette for my journey home. I could never have made one that nice.

Technology

Something is beeping from the corner of the room. It only goes off every hour or so and only peeps once, so there's no way of locating the sound. Something must be running out of battery and I have no way of knowing what it is.

Something vital will stop working and we can't prevent it. THE END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH AND THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

Visiting the Queen

- by Beanz


This weekend we went to London to visit the queen and frighten a little mouse under a chair.


Well, the humans did. Bamgee and TJam went to London to see some friends. They contributed to an art project. They coloured postcards and stuck them on a big wall with loads of other postcards.


The rest of the day they drank tea and ate loads of food. They saw the houses of parliament. They didn't frighten a little mouse under a chair. I don't think they saw the queen either.


Meanwhile, Chips and I chased London squirrels and rolled in London fox poo. It smells just as gorgeous as the Northern variety only it doesn't say its "t"s on the ends of words.



If you look closely you can see how I rubbed it all in my ears to make sure it lingered even longer.


TJam saw her little baby cousin. He was wearing the t-shirt she send him. It says, "Spit on that tissue and I'll call social services". It's not a joke either. He liked looking at us dogs and grabbing us. I wanted to lick him but I was not supposed to.

Relief

Relief (rih-leef) n Feeling experienced when you think you have stepped on a slug, but the thing that you pick off your sock is actually a chunk of uncooked beetroot that the dog has been throwing around the house the night before.

Freecycling

- by Beanz

We are now freecycle converts. It's just like putting an advert on the Spar notice board but it doesn't cost 50p. For the uninitiated, Freecycle is where you join a local group (which really is an email group so you don't even have to get up from in front of your computer). Then if people are getting rid of anything or on the look out for anything, they post a message. If someone wants or has the item, they email you. Then you arrange collection/pickup. Fab. We have got rid of a babygate (no match for Chips) and some glass paints.

I have double checked and you are not allowed to offer naughty dogs on there.

Roaching

- by Beanz

Apparently there is a name for what we dogs do. This is not "laying on your back with your legs flailing". It is "roaching". These dogs say so.

Now it is official I will do it all the more.