Saturday, May 20, 2017

Best Ball

This is my best ball.  The nice humans who live next door to our old kennel gave it to me when they came to visit last week.  It squeaks at me when I give it a little squeeze so I know it loves me too.   I take it everywhere with me just in case it gets lonely.

I have heard our humans talk about playing with their best ball.  I don’t understand why they wouldn’t take their best ball everywhere with them, so when Mummy was out today, I took advantage of using her writing box to do a little research and see what humans consider to be the correct treatment for their best ball.  I was very upset by my findings.

Daddy came from the land where male humans wear skirts which is where the game of coaxing little white balls across fields with sticks was started.  I know that our humans have bags full of these sticks which, with a team of three other humans they use to coax the little white balls to fly across fields.  From what I can understand, in the land we live in, sometimes they play something called a scramble with their long sticks (I find this very confusing because I thought this was something Daddy does with eggs on Sunday mornings).  The most athletic ball that flies the furthest then gets hit by all four of the humans.  I would never treat my best ball that way.
Tobermory

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Smoking a Chicken

Mummy said she’s going to smoke a chicken tonight.  I study the moving picture screen on the wall avidly so I've seen bad humans wearing felt head covers who drive old, square motorized dog carriers talking about smoking someone and they do it with a gun.  Firstly, there are no guns in this kennel.  Secondly, I had a good look at the chicken and it looks pretty dead to me so why would it need to be smoked?
Tobermory

Farewell to the Last of the Three Amigos

Sharing my life with our dogs has always been one of my greatest joys.  However, with that joy comes the responsibility of knowing when to a...