We have a routine, the dog and I. It suits us. My daughter wakes at six and is out of the door by seven. And then Felix is propped up with a mug of cocoa and I potter off into the forest to afford the dog his toilet. The dog’s visit to his spacious forest … Continue reading »
I have no idea why the dog took to the double glazing salesman so. But he did. This is the routine: someone knocks at the door. The dog looks down from on high, on the top stair, staring imperiously down his moustache like some 19th century major about to order the charge of the Light … Continue reading »
If you stroke a shark on the nose, it goes into a trance. Even so, I wouldn’t read this and then go out and find a shark and stroke his nose. This does not work with all sharks, I believe, and I’m hazy on how to tell a shark which likes being stroked from a … Continue reading »
Our puddles in England are epic. Thus, our dog walks are dicey affairs. Phil and I struck out through the forest yesterday and ended up walking about twice as far in puddle-avoiding diversions. Routes are blocked by small lakes. Wellies are the footwear of choice. You can’t trust puddles, especially in England, for they are … Continue reading »
We gazed at the dog, and the dog gazed back at us. “What?” he emanated. “So you think he looks like George Harrison circa 1970?” I enquired at length. “Well…yes…” Phil ruminated. The dog sat there. He might have wondered briefly, hopefully, if a walk was in the offing. Or chow. Chow would be nice. … Continue reading »
Poo: the great leveller. It does not matter what kind of doggie food you buy: the outrageously expensive bags of vet chow, or the bargain basement kibble at Aldi: it all ends up the same. The craven hunched form of a little terrier ejecting ballast is a familiar one. So much so that Cornwall’s doggie … Continue reading »
Three walks in one day? What dog would not be delirious with joy? Saturday began with a romp round the forest, a five-mile run with the squirrels and the deer. Macaulay the family dog’s utter favourite. And then nine-year-old Felix expressed a desire to do one of his scooterthons. This entails the family hitching up … Continue reading »
You don’t get a terrier for his gentlemanly habits. I think we’ve been over this before. You want something that primps and preens? Get a poodle. A ribboned handbag dweller? Something chihuahua-based. An affable stick-chaser? That would be your labrador. Does tricks? Collie. Terriers are like irascible old men and women. They like life the … Continue reading »
A repost from my nephew, Big Al’s nursery days, when our old cat Kit Kat was still ruling the house with a rod of iron. Al was about three at the time. The dog has just looked up from Tolstoy’s War and Peace, and given me a baleful brown-eyed reproach. He has nothing whatsoever to … Continue reading »
Yesterday began like any other day. Except that we knew it was coming. The snow had begun to collect and glower in the sky the day before, blotting out the sun, blanketing the people of the Shires in twittering expectation.Phil had come home with dire warnings about the train system. It would be on an … Continue reading »
