Monday 20 January 2014

Gisèle has got a new hobby.

Thankfully she has now got over her violent stomach bug (let us not go there; it wasn't pleasant).  Therefore she is once again bursting with enthusiasm and vitality and is consequently seeking out new and imaginative ways to accidentally injure herself.  Having learned an early lesson in the witless folly of getting one's self trapped underground (see here for that sorry débacle), the young Gizzles has been seeking out ever more inventive sources of entertainment.

I am sure that I have alluded in the past to Gisèle's passion for chasing squirrels - into which she was indoctrinated by Betty (not that much in the way of encouragement was needed in this case).  This pursuit has led directly to Gisèle's new-found obsession.  Before I proceed any further, let me assure you that I have counselled the young Parson Jack Russell Terrier against her new favourite activity.  I may as well not have bothered, for all the notice she took of me.  In her paws be it then.  I have done my best.  Witness this folly:-

Betty (wearing her muzzle) sits sentinel

Spot the Gisèle... special prize for anyone who
finds her in the first two seconds of looking at this photo...

See?  Unwise at best.

GISÈLE'S HOLIDAY DIARY - PART 3

I couldn't WAIT to jump out of my cosy sleeping bag for my third day of holiday. Eis and Devon from next door had already gone out for the day and I couldn't see Marnie anywhere - and I was even MORE disappointed to see that it was raining. I barked at the sky to make it stop, but it didn't work. I will get Betty to tell it off later. Luckily (for the sky) the sun soon came out, all fresh and new! Hurray!

After we had put our packed lunches together my Mistress and me hopped into the Gizmobile and we were away!

We decided to go and visit Fox Tor, near Princetown, as there are lots of old huts and things to see, a pretty river, Fox Tor itself, Childe's Tomb (an old stone cross) and - of course - Fox Tor Mire, which was the inspiration for the Great Grimpen Mire in the Sherlock Holmes story "The Hound of the Baskervilles". Jasper really liked Sherlock Holmes stories, but they are a bit difficult for me to understand. I'm not a Basket-ville dog (I don't think Jasper was one either - you can make up your OWN mind about Betty, hihihiiii...).

These two are of the big area of Fox Tor Mires, from the West

This is me deciding not to investigate the mire more closely

The crossing place for the river, above the mire, just below Fox Tor itself

Now, there is an interesting story about this exact site of the river crossing place - my Mistress and Jasper had a bit of a mishap here a few years ago. I thought it was funny. Mistress said that she smiles about it NOW, but she and Jasper weren't laughing at the time when it happened. I think it was in 2007, probably. That is the last time that Jasper and Mistress had a BIG Dartmoor holiday together.

The river place above is a few miles South of the little town of Princetown (where the nice Plume of Feathers pub is, and the less-nice prison). When Mistress was there with Jasper they parked their Little Green Corsa (like the Gizmobile, but less Giztastic) in Princetown and began walking towards the open moorland. They hadn't gone too far when Mistress realised that she had left her compass back at the B&B where she and Jasper were staying. Only a VERY stupid person goes off into the middle of nowhere without a compass - especially into an area that is famous for being scary and dangerous. So she and Jasper walked back into Princetown and went to the High Moorland Visitor Centre and purchased a new one.  

Off they set again for the long walk towards Fox Tor, Mistress wearing the shiny new compass on its cord around her neck, Jasper capering happily and loving the fresh air and glorious scenery. After a lovely walk of a good few hours Jasper and Mistress arrived at the very spot that is in my photograph here. I have to say that I wasn't as pleased to be here as Jasper was - I am still frightened of water and it is quite deep here. Jasper liked doing swimming and paddling, but Mistress either has to carry me over or I have to find a narrow bit and jump over... Anyway, back to 2007, and Jasper's holiday. Jasper crossed the river first and Mistress went next. As she stepped from the big rock on the left of the picture to the smaller rocks above it, the knot in the cord around her neck slipped undone - before she could catch it, the new compass fell into the water and the flowing water began to carry it away. Jasper went swimming after it as quickly as he could - but as the water flows directly into the mire, my Mistress wouldn't let him go too far in case he got stuck and died. She had to call him back and the water was too fast further downstream for him to catch up with the compass. Mistress and Jasper watched the brand-new compass disappear off towards the mire. It's probably still there. Then Mistress used some bad toilet-words (the sort that I'd get a spanked bottom for if I barked them). And then they went home.

No such horrors for me! Apart from the scary bit of getting across the river, I had a LOVELY day, brilliant running and laughs. Mistress liked it too.

Me with Mistress's rucksack, on the path back to the Gizmobile.  I was very tired
and looking forward to my dinner, my bedtime story and my cosy sleeping bag

Eis and Devon still hadn't returned from their day out when we got back to our cottage and I was SO tired I didn't go out to see if Marnie wanted to play after supper. I LOVE HOLIDAYS!

Bye-bye love from Gisèle. x

Wednesday 1 January 2014

Good day - and a very happy new year to you, dear reader.  'Twas an early bedtime for my partner and the two girls, Betty and Gisèle, although they did stay awake long enough to hear the chimes of good old Big Ben ringing in the new year.  Let us hope that it brings much happiness to all.

To judge, however, from the scenes outside my partner's windows it would seem that the weather is not terribly happy.  A fearsome gale is (literally) howling around the small cul-de-sac and large drops of rain are hurling themselves against the window-panes.  Having witnessed well over 20 storm-felled trees in the woods yesterday, my partner is not minded to expose the two furry blossoms to these wild elements (and not just for fear that they might all get gusted away to the magical land of Oz and squash a witch. Though, having barked that, I'm sure Gisèle would love some pretty ruby slippers; Betty, on the other paw, would merely chew them).  The girls aren't terribly happy about this - but, as I can read in my partner's eyes every time the wind howls with renewed force, it only takes one windblown branch to fall upon a furry head...  It simply isn't worth the risk; especially so when one has a garden that the girls can use for "necessities".

Betty and Giz very much enjoyed their walk in the woods yesterday.  The weather was not unpleasant, despite the débris from the previous storm and good fun was had by all (except, possibly, the squirrels who attracted the girls' attentions).  Regular readers of my humble musings may recall that Betty has a muzzle, purchased after an unfortunate episode last year (and of which there is no need to bark).  My partner -  recognising that said muzzle was not required at home with Gisèle, yet not inattentive to Elizabeth's temper directed towards others when out and about - decreed that Betty must (despite protests from BOTH girls) wear her muzzle on walks.  Betty did not go quietly.  At length, however, she accepted my partner's argument and was content (it was a very soft and comfortable muzzle, after all).  Giz, however, detected a rich seam of p*ss-taking to be enthusiastically mined...

Oh dear...