California Girls

It was my birthday on Sunday.  I turned 7 human years.  That’s around 50 in dog years.  I didn’t want to celebrate but Tobermory insisted on organizing a party for me.  He reminded me of the story I told him about Daddy’s 50^th birthday party.  All his friends and litter mates came from far away places to drink falling over juice and wriggle around in the garden while a group of howling humans, pulled strings attached to pieces of wood and hit big round boxes with sticks.

I think Tobermory’s offer to arrange a party may have been a little self-serving.   We both like Mummy’s cake made from orange vegetables, bee juice and squashed nuts topped with cheese from small human kennels, however the guest list was a little suspect.  He says he invited my BFF, Truman, but he was busy taking care of his little sister and his boy because their humans were out of town.  Now, I’m not saying that Tobermory is some kind of lothario, but his answer to this was to fill our garden with his girl-friends.

I don’t want you to think that I’m a cradle snatcher, but there was one girl, Sierra who I’ve never really spoken with much.   I’ve known her since she was puppy and she really has grown into quite an exceptional young bitch, and the legs …..  She says her mother is a free spirit so really doesn’t know who her father is. We talked for a long time.  She has a lot of wisdom for her age and can do some really cool tricks, like rolling over.

I’ve usually found girls closer to my age who are fish retrievers like me to be more to my taste, but I think I need to broaden my horizons to include long haired, free spirited California hippy chicks.

Talisker

Iced Wings

I have a sore “wing”.  Every evening while I hold the sofa down, Daddy wraps two big bags of ice in the bits of cloth that the humans use to take water off plates.  He puts one behind his back and Mummy loops the other around my “wing”.   It feels really good and a lot of the hurty stuff goes away which means I have way more fun when I go out for our daily sniff.

 

This wing icing feels so good that I thought I should check on Mummy’s writing box to see if anyone else knows about this.  My research found that flying metal tubes get their wings iced too, only they don’t like it much and refuse to fly until all the ice is gone.  I think the problem is that the ice is put directly onto their wings.  I wouldn’t like that much either.  If the humans taking care of the flying metal tubes wrapped the ice up in bits of cloth, not only would the flying metal tubes like it, but they might be able to fly better too.

Talisker