We are at odds

Elegant hunter at rest

Elegant hunter at rest

My pack leader and I
are at odds.
Our walking preferences
are diverging.
And he thinks he has the right
to take shorter walks in the dark and damp of winter.
No! He is just a human while I am a noble lurcher
and I love the dark and damp.
Hence we are at odds!
It is not whimsy
My olfactory sense loves the dark and damp,
Creatures come out in the dark
when they might hide in daylight.
And, when all is said and done
I am a finely honed hunter where pack leader is
a staggerer and not to be taken seriously
in the domain of the wild outside.
So it is incumbent upon me
to convert him.
A painless way to get my way
and to stop us being at odds
otherwise it could become unpleasant
for my human and I don’t want to upset him too much.

I like the Christmas holidays

Treats upon treats! Pack member 4, formally known as Corin and Anna, his partner
who is suffering from a cruel Christmas flu have taken me to Parsley Hayparsley hay steam engine.  It used to be a railway station but is now just for cyclists and walkers. Sorry about the picture but pack leader has a mild steam fetish; loves the smell of smoke and the sounds. No surprise then that he has asthma.

Anyway, besides being subjected to the “can’t stop for a loo break” torture it was a very fine walk! People were nice as were the dogs until one got near to my lunch. He knows better now. Slightly queezy moment when I got stuck at the top of a steep drop; but deployed my four wheel drive and scrabbled to safety.

Home now. Eaten my tea and assumed the upside down position in front of the fire.

All good – sweet dreams…………

They must have gone deaf!

OK it was a great walk on some big rocks. I think they called it BlackBlack Rocks Rocks. It scared them when I got close to the edge but there is no need to worry – I have full time four leg drive so I am a lot safer than humans. And lets be honest number 1 was stumbling about like a stumbly thing.

But it was lovely to be somewhere interesting and it was sunny and fresh as well.

When it finished the four humans amused themselves in Scarthin Books, they love it but BUUUT they were there for ages and came out smelling of food – ratfinks! I was starving and my blood sugar plummeting but no Rio will be OK!

Final insult I needed a loo stop. I asked very politely in a low whimper but did they stop – not a chance. When we got home I had to shoot into the garden before my bladder exploded. Sweet relief!

Then things looked up; a nice big dinner and the fire on full. So here I am upside down on one of the settees with a pack member squeezed in at each end and I am even allowing them to stroke me as I drift off into my dreams of running and hunting. Bliss.

A cruel trap

Rio in a box

Rio caught in a box trap!

All I was doing was to check that the pack were doing proper recycling. You know making sure that everything was in the right place e.g. cardboard in the cardboard bag. So I smelt a dog biscuit box and dipped in my head to make sure none of my precious biscuits had been thrown away inadvertently. But quelle horreuer it was a booby trap – it grabbed my head!

I was caught, backed out and stumbled tunnel visionally round the kitchen.

I knew number 1 was in the lounge, so I stumbled my way there and gazed pleadingly out of the end of the box. And what did I get? Hysterical laughter from him and number 4; “hang on while I get my camera” and 1 peering into the end of the box and sniggering at me. I was utterly and totally embarrassed and it was almost a minute beforte I could eat the treat I was given to make me feel better.


A Dog’s Purpose – W Bruce Cameron

Author Bruce Cameron at 2008 American Mensa An...

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Pack leader read a book yesterday. All of it in one day! Very hard to believe I know. However I was snoozing on the new deck and packleader started to tell number 2 about it. And it was amazing, so much so I didn’t even doze off.

It really is about a dog’s purpose in its relationship to humans and has a really novel slant which I have promised not to yap about in case I spoil it for others.

Anyway it is truly worth a read – “A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron

A dog lead

Statue of the sighthound (one of the symbolic ...

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When I left the Ark
Daphne, the lady in charge of dog escapes
said I may never be able to get off the lead;
Because I was a sight hound!

And, as you may,
or may not
We are prone to tearing off and ripping small villages to shreds.

Fortunately my pack leaders ( indulged in name only)
Got my vibes
by day two
and set me free

And despite some unnecessary nagging
when I have been a little delayed in returning
have not regretted it
one iota.

Now, the other day
Number 1 and I were shooting the breeze
in the park when
Along came an unhappy dog with an unsmiling man

Nothing from either
But why?
well my hypothesis

that thay were trapped by the lead
binding the dog and man together.
The dog had energy in abundance
and was consumed by the need to bound free.

The man was trapped by his fears
that the dog
would go beserk
and cause mayhem throughout the three counties

there is a solution

The man has to understand himself
Then he can trust himself
then when he sets himself free
he lets the dog off the lead.


Maybe not so for you humans who may be reading; to explain
If we (dogs) KNOW you mean it
KNOW your intention
and can FEEL the energy that comes from you

We behave.

Shouting doesn’t do it
getting grumpy doesn’t either
It is all energy.
Have the belief you are pack leader

And pack leader you will be!

Well, exhausting, time for a nap………

Wanton neglect

It’s probably criminal
I have not had computer access for ages
My public needs me
and they care not a jot!

Number 1 has broken the desktop
and my paws struggle on laptops
My extended accelerator nails are just
a nightmare!

I don’t know how he broke it
but “we” suspect he was downloading some fancy
64 bit software
and it all got the better of him

He’s very grey you know.

Anyway I am back
breaking through the technical barriers to
delight you
my public

Before I do delight you
I must advise
the buggers have deserted me
Gone to Seville for the world tapas eating championship

More later
just going to snaffle a pigs ear
to cheer myself

Dog-given from the Oxford Dictionary blog

I admit it . . . I’m dog-given

Dogs playing with stick

I love dogs. I think I was just born that way. Given that I’m part of a vast community of canophilists, it’s never made sense to me that dogs often feature in an unfavorable way in English. Every group in the animal kingdom is represented in at least a few phrases, idiomsallusions, and metaphors, but I doubt any can top the number of familiar expressions that rely on the dog. Remarkably few of these, however, speak of virtues, which in my view is what dogs are all about. If virtues include selflessness, loyalty, courage, patience, forgiveness, and unconditional love, I have to say the dogs I’ve known could teach most humans a thing or two. But that isn’t quite the picture our idiomatic language paints.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there…

Without blinking an eye, I can rattle off more than two dozen “dog” expressions, among them: sick as a dog; go to the dogsbe in the doghousedog-tiredthrow someone to the dogsnot a dog’s chance; the dogs of wardog daysand  dog in the manger. There’s a lot of misery, negativity, or just plain distaste in these dismal expressions. Even a dog’s life, which I naively used to think referred to pleasant circumstances, in fact means “an unhappy existence, full of problems or unfair treatment.” Why such disdain for the noble dog?

Dogged by negativity?

Worse yet, the linguistic assault is not limited to phrases. The word dog all by itself has generated a number of negative figurative uses, at least six times more than the lowly rat!

In most dictionaries, there are two such meanings for rat:

  • a person regarded as despicable
  • an informer

Now look at just a few of the unsavory definitions for dog:

  • a person regarded as unpleasant, contemptible, or wicked
  • a woman regarded as unattractive
  • a thing of poor quality
  • a failure
  • a person who is abject or miserable

Even when dog became a verb, it retained those negative vibes: none of us would choose to be dogged by controversy. The doggone injustice! Look at doggerel, too, and its “parent,” dog Latin. Other dog-related words don’t fare much better. Curmongrelmutt,and bitch come to mind, and let’s just say they’re not exactly terms of endearment. The only bright spot for me when writing this was the discovery in the Oxford English Dictionary of the word dog-given (an obsolete rare term for which the OED provides just one citation, dated at around 1611), defined as “addicted to dogs.” I don’t smoke, drink, or gamble, so I think at this point in my life I’m entitled to the addiction of my choice, and I choose dogs: letcanophilia rule!

Christine A. Lindberg
7 June 2011


Senior lexicographer Christine A. Lindberg is the principal content editor of Oxford’s American English dictionaries and thesauruses. Part of the original OUP US Dictionaries Program established in Connecticut in 1997, she currently works from her office in the Leatherstocking Region of New York State.

Wild garlic

My park has a river down the side of it. We walk along it often. Just now the green things are really starting to come out and the wild garlic is beating everything else.

My apparent pack leader is babbling on about how great this could be because he thinks it can be great in recipes. Thank goodness I am a dog and get to eat mashed up bits of animal and pigs ears and such like. This green stuff is quite nasty.

Not for the first time he has come up with an anti-dog comment. He seems to suggest that because the canine community piddles all over it they cannot eat it. So faddy can’t they just rinse it under the tap!

Anyway stop wingeing and get me home for some good healthy meaty nutrition.

But just to demonstrate I am not anti-human there are some good recipes here:


A dark night

Sunday 6 0 clock, February pitch black. Off to the park.

I like the dark evenings the smells change different animals are at large and I get strong smells of the fox – my favourite. One day I will catch him.

We get to the stone balustrade and pack leader (in his imagination only you understand!) looks over as usual to see if he catch a glimpse of the heron on the little promintory.

It’s gone, completely under water, and no heron.

The little wooden bridge normally 7 or 8 feet above the water has it lapping against it and beyond the big meadow looks a dark lake just shining in the moon.

I must check this out – it’s only shallow. Time for some larks a flat out sprint straight across it  – water splashing up my sides.


Then the eccentric woman with the five red setters appears and we all sprint around like crazy things (not the woman though she is definitely not a sprinter she progresses in a more stately manner).

So much fun. So wet, so hungry, so strange.