Monday, 25 October 2010

Sunday 24 October 2010

What a delightful weekend, which was, to be honest, more than I was expecting.

Friday witnessed my partner's birthday and yesterday was my own.  I have reached the age of twelve years with all parts in good working order.  My partner has banned me from mentioning her age.  So I won't.

I received a selection of pleasing gifts, all food-based, as well as the usual array of cards.  First to greet me on the celebration of my natal day was the gorgeous Rosie, my new next-door-neighbour.  She really does have the most entrancing bark.  It's quite hard to describe, but is basically extremely high-pitched and melodious - akin to yipping, but without the irritation.  She hailed me as I went out to download my first weemail of the day - a powerful, long-lasting jet from which I was unable to turn (I was sadly facing the opposite direction), so I wagged my tail frantically in response to her calls.  However, when I turned (after shaking the drops), Rosie dissolved into coquettish giggles and fled back into her house.  I do feel flattered by her attentions, but I wish she would stop giggling for a moment and have a chat.  Whilst having my nap this afternoon, I caught a glimpse of her being chided by her partner - Rosie had been trying to jump the fence that separated our two gardens.  I pretended not to see, as I was enjoying my nap too much.

When not celebrating our birthdays, my partner and I have been busy in the garden with our weeding and pruning.  My partner calls it "putting the garden to bed for the Winter".  Not having heard that phrase before, I hid my favourite blanket, in case my partner was going to tuck in her borders beneath it.  No such horrors ensued - and my partner was good enough to replant the bulbs I had unearthed (for the third time) without any harsh words in the direction of the birthday boy.  We bought some more bulbs yesterday with some of her birthday money, but she's going to put them into tubs - "out of the reach of naughty paws".

The last stage in the gardening session saw my partner bringing in her six geranium plants on a tray, so that the frost doesn't kill them.  I don't like those geraniums - they aren't natural.  ALL summer I have been trying to destroy them.  I tried eating one - but I didn't like it.  I kept kicking the pots over - but my partner kept standing them up again.  I repeatedly pee-ed into the pots - but they survived even my most toxic brew.  If I'm honest, I was actively looking forward to seeing the frost finally killing-off the stubborn little b*st*rds.  But no.  Thwarted again.  Now they are sitting on their tray on our upstairs landing.  I don't trust them.  I don't like the way they are looking at me.  I think they might be plotting to hurt me.  I will be keeping a very close eye on them.  They won't be getting away with any liberties, let me make that abundantly clear right now.

Right then.  I can procrastinate no longer.  Here is the next instalment of my little biography (see http://jasper-thedogsblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/wednesday-1-september-2010.html, for the previous episode).  Please view without prejudice...:





PART TWENTY-EIGHT


After several days in this new house, I was no less unhappy.  There had been no recourse to my preferred type of dinner, despite repeated protests and entreaties.  Each evening I was forced to swallow down what was put in front of me.  I have located a picture of me on such an occasion - and here it is:


Not happy.
Things were no better on my daily "walks" to the local park and back. I wasn't allowed off the lead and was cross and bored. Tempers flared on only my second outing.


I trudged along the pavement beside the young girl, treating all I encountered with supreme indifference. Approaching us was a fellow accompanied by a cheerful-looking Alsatian. The girl seemed to have a passing acquaintance with the man and stopped to chat with him. He seemed interested in my presence at her side and made a number of enquiries. His Alsatian trotted up to me and greeted me affably:

"Alright, mate? How's it sniffing?"

I ignored him, angry at his informal address. Didn't he know who I was? The upstart then had the audacity to begin sniffing at me.

"Not seen you 'round here before." continued the ghastly nonentity before me. "Nice to meet you."

I could bear it no longer.

"WHO do you think you are?!" I demanded angrily. I received only a startled look in response. "You will bow and request permission before you address me!"

"Eh?" queried the bemused Alsatian.

"I am CAPTAIN!" I announced - as if I needed any introduction!!

The Alsatian's silent look of puzzlement confirmed that he had either never heard of me (ha!), or had forgotten any previous reference to me. "Pack leader," I announced angrily. "Kipper's chosen successor! And you WILL bow before me!"

The Alsatian shook his head and sighed. At that moment, his human having finished his chat with the girl, the pair moved off.

"Arrogant d*ckhead." muttered the Alsatian, as he passed me. That was it. I lost my temper. I leapt at him, fangs bared, managing a complete, lead-tangling, back-flip as I launched myself at his throat. He put up a good fight and we collapsed onto the grass beside the path in a frenzied heap of teeth and fur.

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp sting on my rump. The girl had spanked me! ME!! I turned my fury on her, but she was too quick for me and pinned me to the ground, holding me down as I bucked, snarling and swearing. Eventually, I exhausted myself and lay, panting and silent. The young lady began to apologise profusely to the man and the Alsatian. The man reacted with good-natured amusement and proceeded to continue on his walk, my protagonist striding confidently alongside him. He only glanced back at me to give a disdainful shake of his head. Once they were out of snapping distance, the girl released the pressure on my ribcage and I jumped up.

"What the h*ll were you playing at, Jasper?!" she demanded angrily. "That dog was only being friendly! And don't you dare, ever, threaten ME again. Alright?"

"Captain." I grunted sullenly. I would have continued - but at that point the girl noticed that I had lost my brand-new golden collar-tag in the fight. Not good, apparently, as it had been a gift from her parents. We returned to the site many, many times over the ensuing weeks - but we never did find that tag. The girl's parents were, as she had predicted, livid. I cared not.

The episode bore unfortunate and unpalatable fruit. A few days later, words were uttered by the young girl which no canine ever wishes to hear.

And those words were: "dog", "training" and “classes”.

Oh NO...

There would be consequences of that decision, I can tell you now...

 
Good night.
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