About This Blog

This blog was originally started as a thread on the forum pages of an animal rescue site. Now it's here!

The articles you find in here are purely for entertainment (yours and mine) and (with one or two exceptions) are all tongue-in-cheek chronicles of the World (my bit, anyway) as I see it.
No disrespect is intended towards anyone unless I make a mistake and make it too obvious.

I hope you enjoy my offerings. Feedback and comments of any kind are welcome.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

6 am

(Originally posted on January 23, 2010)

Six o’clock in the morning and the watery-eyed doggies went out into the frosty garden to relieve themselves of their collective burden.  Bladders empty, they return to the house and put themselves back to bed, as does the lucky person who had to get up and open the door for them.

Between eight and eight-thirty, it’s doggy breakfast time in our house.  I let them into the garden while I get their food ready. This is usually the time when Sox turns into Tigger (bouncing up and down with an occasional whine) and Clover seems to do a lot of running on the spot.

Once they go outside, Sym, cool and calm, will sidle over for some ‘morning’ fuss.  When the food hits their tin bowls, they come back into the house.  Sox and Clover will go back to their beds and Sym will stand close to me and wait for his food to be put down.  Once a little drop of hot water, olive oil, garlic and gravy has been mixed in their Trophy (advertising) grub, it’s put down for them.

Clover dives into her bowl like one of those exhibition divers from the cliffs in Acapulco (Mexico), and doesn’t come up for air until everything is gone.

Sox, ever the dainty one, will pick her food out one bit at a time and constantly looks around for approval.  She rarely eats everything in her bowl because she has to check out all the other bowls for leftovers first.  Whilst she is checking, Clover eats what she has left.

Sym will stand and look at his food.  It looks almost as if he is daring his food to try and escape. What he is actually waiting for is for someone to say “Who’s a good boy then?  Get your food!” and give him yet more fuss (which he thoroughly deserves ... or so he would have us believe).

When the food is gone, Clover and Sox retire to their cushions by the radiator and Sym goes into what I call his “warrrrggggghhhhh” routine.  This consists of him throwing his head and neck sideways onto the floor.  His back legs then propel him along the carpet as he makes his “warrrrggggghhhhh” sound.  This is then repeated along the back of the sofa and will continue until someone scratches his nose!!!

Once his nose has been scratched, he will settle down on a cushion or slink away into the corridor so he can see people passing the front door.


Then I sit down and have my coffee.

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