Wednesday 23 December 2020

Oh big, massive, annoying, HUGE, stinky CAT-WILLIES.

I am sorry (not really, but I will pretend I am).  There has just been on the news that my area is going to be in the new Coronavirus Tier 4.  That means I can hardly do anything except wipe my own bottom.

Mistress says that this isn't really true.  She can still go to the shops and buy my food.  I can still go and play in the park.  So that will be alright, I suppose.  I am very sad that I won't be able to go and see my cousin Doug this Christmas, but Mistress says it has to be.  Maybe next year.

I was happy this morning.  See here:

Before Tier 2 became Tears 4

Yesterday I helped Mistress to finish wrapping our Christmas presents.  Well, not quite finished - Mistress forgot one of my instructions for GrannaPea so she has to do that tomorrow.  Good.  That will give me some time to stage a full assault on our Christmas tree.  I know for a fact that there is at least one present wrapped up for me there.  Mistress has put it where she thinks I won't be able to reach it.  But that won't stop me from trying...

I am good at climbing trees.

Me, being good at climbing trees.

Can you spot me?

Today, with this virus news, I feel a bit like I am at the bottom of a big tree, looking up at high, difficult and spiky branches.  The view from the top will be lovely, but climbing up will be hard.  It might hurt.  It will not be easy at all, and sometimes I might fall back down a bit.  But it will be worth it in the end.  However hard and high the tree is, however awkward the branches are, and however small and clumsy I might be, I will never give up trying to climb it.  Please don't you give up either.

Hopefully I will meet you there at the top.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Saturday 19 December 2020

I am doing my best to keep the candle of hope in my little "social bauble" Christingle alight.  Here I am with it:

I didn't eat the sweets.

Here I am, busy making it

(and not eating the sweets).

Mistress and I have just finished watching the Prime Minister's special broadcast to the nation about the new, even worse (if that was at all possible) type of Coronavirus strain and the cancellation of Christmas allowances.  They have got a new tier, tier 4 (or perhaps it should be tears), for London and the surrounding counties.  Not here yet, but I take no pleasure in this.  It is all especially sad and very worrying.  In an evening I usually sit in my own chair but for the special news broadcast I sat on Mistress's lap and she gave me a cuddle.  I do very much hope that human people are sensible and do what they are supposed to do.  After all, I have to behave myself even when I sometimes don't want to.  It is difficult at times, especially when being naughty is usually so much fun.  But I want people to be alright.  And there is a vaccine out and about now (they said on the television that over 350,000 humans have already had the first of the two jabs).  That is at least something to make a tail wag.

Mistress has bought all of the presents I instructed her to buy and they are all wrapped up now.  I did tell her that she must get some edible ones so that I could steal and eat them, but she didn't.  She says that I have already got my big chew AND the meat she got for me to take my tablets with (my last one tomorrow).  So I will have to be happy with that.

I am going to do my very best to keep wagging my tail and keep hoping for very much happier days ahead.  They will come, I know it.  And I am Gisèle-Stephanie - I can't be wrong.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Tuesday 15 December 2020

The festive lights continue to shine and sparkle on my little furry head as I continue padding towards Christmas.  I am still getting a bit tired (extra walks at the moment, which I am not going to scupper by complaining about) but am feeling lots better.  Mistress is doing something the vet said to do called "weaning me off the tablets".  I don't mind this but I'm not pleased about the reduction in treats, which inexplicably seems to be going hand-in-paw with the weaning.  Mad.

Mistress didn't get arrested by the military police, which she is very pleased about.  This all started when I was at my favourite exercise place a few days ago and a MASSIVE Chinook helicopter (the one with two sets of blades) descended and hovered really close to us.  Mistress said it looked like they were doing something called a "training exercise".  It really was very low indeed.  It hovered a bit and then flew off.  I made Mistress take some pictures to put on here, but she said they were a bit blurry (most of her pictures are anyway).  But the very next day, almost at the same time, the Chinook came back again, very low and hovering the same way.  "Pictures!  Pictures!" I barked, jumping up and down, and Mistress did take some.  Then the Chinook rose and flew away, only to come back again and do the same hovering close to the ground stuff about 15 minutes later.  "Again! Again! Pictures again!" I yipped.  And then the Chinook flew over us, very close, in a circle and departed the scene.  Mistress put her camera away then.  I got cross but she explained that perhaps it was not a good idea to be spotted in the same (rather remote, GrannaPea has to drive us there in her car) location two days running, taking photographs of what was obviously a training exercise.  We went home then.  We haven't seen the Chinook again since, so I think we might be OK.  I would quite like a ride in a helicopter, I think.  But not a ride that ends up in prison.  I told Mistress that I wouldn't put the pictures on here and she said that was probably a good idea.

Barking of rides, the local steam railway has been running a special train at night time, all especially lit up with thousands of lights.  I have had a ride on the steam train and I liked it very much, but it was in the day time a few years ago and not a special Christmas train.  I have got a ticket for a special train that Mistress bought me, but not for the lights train and I can't use it yet.  Here it is:

Accio sweets trolley!

I wanted to use it to get a ride on the lights train but Mistress said it wouldn't work.  I was building up a fair head of steam myself for a tantrum, but then the train went past and it was so pretty that I forgot to be cross.  Here are some more of Mistress's dodgy pictures:

Here it comes...

Here it is!

There it goes...

Back at the station.

We walked back to GrannaPea's car through the churchyard (where my Mr. Roger, Mistress's father, has to be now) and I stopped to look at the church Christmas display.

Very nice.  But it was cold and 
I didn't sit still for long...

It was very nice to see the train and the Christmas displays.  I like to see that there is still light in all of these dark and miserable times.  Mistress says that, next, I can help her make something called a "Christingle".  My friend Luna (she only came to live in my road earlier this year and before that she was in a sad way in a foreign country. She is nice and friendly and I am glad she is my friend and that she lives nearby in a happy home) barks that she thinks a Christingle is an orange with a match stuck on it, but I don't think that she has ever seen a proper one, so I'm not sure.  I hope it doesn't tingle too much.  Tingles make me nervous.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Saturday 12 December 2020

A week can make a lot of difference to a Parson Jack Russell Terrier.

Just last week I was on tablets twice daily, not altogether comfortable and my water intake was being measured day and night.  Now, I have been to the vet, told that I am well, I am allowed to stop taking the tablets and I have a handsome new harness to wear from the pet shop (to make things better for my neck, which is where some pain was).  The man in the pet shop ordered it especially for me and unpacked it and put it on me.  AND I got a little sausage from the treat box.  I think I will shop there again...

I don't have to go back to the vet again.  They did find something wrong with my jaw, which is a bit of a funny shape, but that is left over from when I was very young and was in a fight.  It's OK.  It doesn't stop me from being beautiful, hehehe... and I don't mind it.  Mistress says that if it isn't painful or making me unhappy then she won't force me to have a big operation to fix it.  I'm happy with that.  I like my face, and so do all of my husbands - and that's quite a wide cross-section of the local canine population.  The vet found the scar tissue from when I was impaled on a spike as well (that was my fault - I ran onto it when chasing a squirrel and was skewered from shoulder to groin.  Awful.  I had surgery for nearly six hours and only survived by a miracle.  I pulled myself off the spike unaided though (Mistress was running to help me when I just did it on my own and we hastened straight to the emergency vet).  That was years ago now and I STILL never even put a single paw in that bit of the woods again to this day).  But I only bark about it now because the vet found the bump where the entry-wound was repaired and sealed - I thought that was very impressive and it made me feel happy that she was very careful in looking for lots of things.  And so I think I will be alright.

There has been lots more to be cheerful about in my little town this week as well.  Sadly, because of the human Covid thing, Father Christmas couldn't visit the town centre and hand out presents to the local little children like he does every year.  So he and his helpers visited the streets instead!  With his sleigh on the back of a pickup-truck (he couldn't fly because the reindeer had to go back and isolate at the North Pole after Prancer developed a cough and couldn't taste his carrots), Santa and his helpers drove around nearly all the streets in the town.  They didn't stop, but a map and times were published and shared in lots of places and people could line the route by their houses and see him go by.  And all of the little children got a gift (a book and a little sack of chocolate coins - they even took care to make sure that children from the same house got a different book to their sibling).  It was very lovely to see and made me feel very Christmassy.

 

Santa's helpers and the great man himself pass by a very GOOD little girl
(who, I repeat, has been VERY good this year and should get lots of presents).

Sorry these pictures are blurry.  GrannaPea was overexcited at seeing Santa.

Not even Coronavirus can stop FC.
Thank you to the local PIGS Association for helping him.

I didn't get a present (you have to be under 7 to get one and I am not).  I thought my luck might be on the turn when Mistress chased after Santa's sleigh - but she only went to put some money in his charity bucket.  Ah well.  At least I have my lovely new harness to cheer me.  It would have been better if it was pink, but it is very comfortable and helps my neck to be OK, so I am happy with that.

 

This season's essential accessory.

So, apart from not getting a present from Santa (which I don't REALLY mind, as they are for the children, and I do alright for presents in general anyway), it has been a very happy week.

We have also recently had some near-misses with the local military (not to do with any ladies - I am a real, proper miss, not a near miss) but that will have to wait for another time.  I am just about to eat my dinner and then I am going out in a minute to look at a steam train go by, all brightly lit up especially for Christmas.  Happy days.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Monday 7 December 2020

The day started early today for Mistress and me.  We had got as far as GrannaPea's house when our mobile telephone rang.  It was the vet.

They have tested my pee-wee.  I got a result of 38.8 (but I don't know what out of) and they said that normal was 34.  So not scary but it might mean that I have to have some more tests.  I have to go back and see another vet on Thursday and keep taking my tablets and Mistress has to measure how much water I drink every day.  I am not scared and Mistress is buying me something nice from the pet shop tomorrow as a special treat.  I might have to have another wee test in a bit but I think I will be good for the next one if it happens, because this one was OK.  Although it was funny to have Mistress chasing me over the field with the little yellow cup.

Today it has been very cold.  Mistress said it was cold enough for snow, but the man who lives inside the television didn't say that we were going to have any.  I like snow, but I would like it better if it wasn't so cold.

GrannaPea has been decorating the inside of the house for Christmas.  Not too many decorations, but some nice ones.  Not ones for eating, which I think should be very much essential to make anything right for Christmas.  And all of the other days in a year.  Mistress says this isn't (a) true and (b) going to happen.  She says I will steal and eat them all.  Me...? Oh no.  I am pure and good.  Unless no-one can see what I am doing, of course...

Here I am, modelling some of our festive items.  Mistress says she will say that I have "got tinsellitis".  I says she will not.  I thinks it is bad enough that these pictures even exist.

 

Help me...

Mistress couldn't take me for a very long walk today. Yesterday she slipped on a wet leaf and fell down some steps.  Now she walks funny and her knees are purple but I think she will be OK.  The last time she slipped and fell over was in the snow ten years ago, when she was out on a walk with my predecessor, the noble Jasper, and he didn't help by trying to console Mistress with the thought that at least she had a fat bottom to cushion her fall - here: Jasper lets himself down.  

Nothing like that this time - Mistress fell forwards, on to her knees, so not even her fat bottom could save her.

I am going to try to work on making my wee a bit more normal and also to try to look forward to seeing the vet again on Thursday.  It will all be alright.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Saturday 5 December 2020

My attempts to subvert the recent pee harvest were not successful.  GrannaPea snaffled enough for the sample tube on my last pre-bedtime download.

This led to a disagreement between me and Mistress.  I made a simple polite request, not unreasonable.  But it was met with a very firm "no!".

"No?"

"No!"

"Oh, but - "

"No! No, Gisèle.  I will NOT post a photograph of a Perspex vial containing your urine on the internet!"

Mistress wouldn't argue with me any more. So I went and sat in my basket until I forgot why I was cross and got a headache.  I was allowed to have an extra bedtime treat and a cuddle when I finally went upstairs.  Mistress is trying to be smiling but I can see that she is still sad.  We gave my tube of wee to the vet's yesterday and the vet wants Mistress to telephone her on Wednesday next week.

I am happy with my tablets. They help me to feel better, but not TOO MUCH better like the last ones six months ago.  They made me see funny shapes and colours and sway and fall over.  Mistress told the vet about this and she wasn't very surprised.  Apparently they were something called "strong opiates" and can be too strong for the smaller dog.  But these ones are OK.  I have got to take them for another week and then I will hopefully be alright, like Mistress says.  I went out today, between the rain showers, said hello to the cattle and did a bit more on the hole I am working on by the trees.  Other dogs go there too, to the exact same spot, but my digging is the best.  Mistress says that I am wasting my time because there is no burrow there, it's just an old termite nest, but I know better.  For the rest of my day before I started to write this I have been buying some of my Christmas presents (online) and barking to my family.

Mistress's brother and sister-in-law made a videocall earlier today.  It was nice to see them and I was able to bark not only to my cousin Doug but also, in a rare appearance, to my cousin-in-law Mocha.  She lives with Mistress's sister-in-law's parents (they also used to look after the late Isolde, my predecessor Jasper's wife).  Mocha is a Springer Spaniel, like Isolde, and a very nice dog but she is also very shy and I don't see her very often.  Here is a picture of me and Doug and Mocha waiting for our Christmas supper two years ago.

Three wise dogs know that Christmas dinner leftovers are

LEGALLY the property of the dog. That's the ACTUAL LAW.

It was very nice to see them again, even if it was only on a screen and I could not sniff them.

I did ask but mean old Mistress refused to show them a picture of my pee-wee sample.  She said that they wouldn't be interested (they were) and that I should go to my bed because it was time for a lie-down (I did).

I did hear Mistress laughing about her efforts to capture my pee.  She showed her sister-in-law the yellow cup and they both agreed that it looks like a human thing called a "she-wee" (no idea).  See what you think.

The cup.

If you look at the label on the packet you will see that it is called a "Rocket Uripet".  I barked that this sounded like the name of a Russian Cosmonaut.  I asked if I would have to go into space, like Laika (poor Laika).  Mistress said I wouldn't.  But when I asked a few more times if I could have a picture of the tube of my pee, she muttered darkly that "it could be arranged".  I will not go on a rocket into space - but I AM going to work out how Mistress puts pictures on here for me and see if I can do it for myself.  She says I will not.  I will.

I am still enjoying looking at the Christmas lights.  The local steam railway is having special lit up trains for Christmas.  I want Mistress to take me to see them.  She says she might, IF I am good.  I will be good. Probably.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Shhh…! hehehe...

Thursday 3 December 2020

Today was a day I did not want to have.

Not once - but twice - to the vet's. I have got some pain in my back and my neck.  I had some about six months ago but I got some medicine and it went away.  Yesterday it was sore and I was a bit sick, so today - when I was even more sore and in pain - Mistress took me to see a nice lady vet.  They took away some of my blood and did some tests on it (that was why we had to go back, to get the results).  The tests said that I was very well.  All except one.  That said that there might be something wrong with me called Cushing's Syndrome.  Well, it's probably either that or I have got something wrong with my spine. Oh poo.

Mistress is very sad.  She did cry.  So I did what she does to make me feel better when I does cry - I gave her a cuddle and barked that it will all be alright soon.  I don't think it helped very much, but it made me feel a bit better.

I cheered up even more when I found out that Mistress had to collect some of my wee to put in a tube for the vet to test.  The vet gave Mistress a special yellow cup to catch the wee.  On my walk, I was careful to do my first big wee before Mistress was properly ready with the cup.  She ran to try and catch some and almost tripped over her boots.  Too late!  Each time she thought I was about to do some more I skipped neatly out of reach as soon as the yellow cup came out.  I managed to develop the knack of almost squatting down to pee and then dancing out of the way at the last moment.  Mistress didn't look very pleased, though she did manage to capture a few millilitres of pee-wee when I couldn't avoid going any longer.  She said it wasn't enough.

I wondered how far she would go to succeed in her quest for my liquid gold.  I decided to see what would happen.  I led her into thorny bushes, by the principal site favoured by the cows for their prodigious and foul turds, into the area of the ant-hills but, to her credit, she stayed right behind holding outstretched the ever-present yellow cup.  It was all to no victory, however (for her at least). I edged too far ahead too quickly for my final pee, Mistress running after me holding out the cup, and then I didn't need to go again.  Mistress said that she will fill the chalice on my final pre-bedtime pee, when I will be on the lead and "can't escape". So I am to be thwarted anyway!  Never mind.  I hope the wee will tell that I am going to be alright.  I don't want to have to stop being me just yet.

Me, trying to be brave.  And looking for cow poos.

I am trying to keep my head thinking about nice things.  Like the Christmas lights in our little town.  They really are remarkably pretty this year and very much help to gladden a sorry heart.  Here is a picture of the main street in the town.

Thank you to the A-------d Pigs

(they put up the trees and this picture).

And, in our little town, they have asked people to put up light displays.  After people had signed up to do this, they (not sure who but I suspect church involvement) have produced a trail sheet for people to fill in with where they find the lights and there are little prizes for the winners.  Here are my lights.

So I am trying very hard to keep my eyes to the light and think about nice, pretty, bright things.  Even if I am a little bit scared.  But I am doing mostly alright, I am happy, I have got some very good tablets (not weird ones which make me sing, see funny things and fall over like the last ones).  It will all be alright soon.

In the meantime, stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Sunday 29 November 2020

I am very cross indeed.  It is all Mistress's fault.

I am a sociable terrier and I like playing with my friends.  I know that there is a Big Nasty Thing (not Donald Trump.  Well, yes HIM, but the other really bad Covid thing) out in the world and we have to be safe.  But I have been a very good girl for 33 days in a row and I am bored of it now.  And my writing starts to get bad if I get cross.

I am normally a very patient and good girl - Mistress and lots of people say that I am a very chilled-out young lady.  But today I am cross.  I have told Mistress that this virus must stop, but she says it doesn't work like that.  But those are my orders. I demand that it goes away and that I be allowed to play freely.  But still the answer is no.

Mistress took a cheeky picture of me, which normally is OK because I look pretty even when I's being cheeky but it just made me feel hot and cross.  I wanted to bite Mistress but I took it out on my chew from the pet shop instead.  It didn't even squeal at me; it just sat there, cold and dead, staring at me.  Mistress says that this is "normal for chews".  I said some rude words about the picture, which is of me next to a bag with a message on it which I am sure she will use to make a snippy comment about me.  Mistress says she will put it on here.  I says she will not.  Mistress asks me if I want my dinner tonight.  I says BRING ON THE PICTURE! 

To use a human expression, I am climbing the walls.  I thought it might get a bit easier.  But I find only frustration and I gets cross at things that didn't used to annoy me before.  And when will it end?  I thought that if you is a good girl then nice things happen as a reward.  But there is just NO end.  Every day, no release or special treats.  Just more like the same. I hates it.

Mistress says to be brave and that it will be alright soon.  But she always says that.

…..

I have been out for a walk now and I feel a bit better.  I went to a favourite place locally (one of Jasper's favourites too) where I played with my new ball, shouted at a distant pheasant, behaved myself very well (good girl Giz) with the grazing cattle and met one of my friends.  That was nice.  And the Christmas trees have been put up in our little town, on all of the shops and buildings and they look pretty.  That is a good thing.  And in a minute Mistress is doing a writing course on something I don't understand called Zoom. The course is not called Zoom and it's not about anyone doing any zooming.  It's from Chawton House and is about writing.  I don't understand why she is bothering.  Jasper was writing this blog since the middle of 2006 and now I am writing it and so I don't understand why she wants to get in on the act.  Perhaps she is jealous.  Well, lots of people is jealous of me and I don't mind, as long as they are my friends as well.

And I barked before about the Christmas lights which have gone up today. That DOES make me feel happy.  Where I live, there is one big tree and a nativity in the main street and all the shops and houses in the middle of the town have an individual tree with lights on them.  It's very nice, I will try and get Mistress to take a photograph.

I feel better now.  I have had my dinner as well.  Maybe Mistress is right.  Maybe it WILL be alright in the end and in the meantime we will just have to do the best that we can.

And barking of photographs...

Me, asleep after my walk and dinner.

I asked Mistress about the photograph.  She said that, pound-for-pound, and even including jewels and precious metals, the best value thing in the world (and what you can really trust when life is grim) is a dog.  She says you always get more out than you put in. Well, that is nice.  I just pray that she is not talking about my dinner...

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Thursday 26 November 2020

"Nippie Bartram has got a willie like a turnip."

So went a number of remarks left on several wee-mail post sites around the town.  I scented several on my morning walk earlier today, and had sniffed similar previously.  Various different versions of the same, from different dogs, but all concerning the unfortunate Nippie Bartram and his apparent physical affliction.

If you were not already aware, most dogs "read" through our noses.  Our noses are around 1,000 times more sensitive than a human snout.  It's the easiest way for us.  An average dog’s sense of smell is around 10,000 - 100,000 times better than even the biggest-nosed human's. We've got up to 300 million olfactory receptors (big words.  I don't really understand them.) in our noses compared to about six million in a human's and the bit of our brain (yes, I have got one somewhere...) that analyses and processes scents is around 40 times greater than a person's.  And we like to sniff bottoms.  Wee and secretions from scent glands are very pungent (even humans know this, often to their cost, hehe...).  But they tell us everything we need to know.

For dogs, "spray it, don't say it" is best.

Scents on wee-mail stations tell us who is out and about, their status, health and sometimes even their intentions.  Shifts in pack hierarchies, newcomers to the area, local gossip (my favourite) and warnings - all are left for others to find and add to.  Posts about Nippie Bartram's whatnot seemed to be quite widespread but from the luckless Nippie himself there was no response.  I doubted that he could be unaware of his fame, but guessed that he was either tired of or indifferent to (or a combination of both) the aromatic tattle.  I had never met Nippie, or heard or smelt of him before now, in physical OR nasal terms, so couldn't say how he felt about the business. 

This morning, Mistress and I decided to have an extra walk (we usually go in the afternoon; we did today as well as this morning).  As we were walking up the hill towards GrannaPea's (we are allowed to visit her; we three are in a "bubble") a gentleman and his dog were walking down towards us.  The dog was a mixture of many and varied breeds, quite small with mottled fur and a tail that was far too big and bushy for him.  We went into the road to maintain the safe passing distance (this does not affect us dogs, so we may still safely sniff) and Mistress and the gentleman exchanged pleasantries.  As they bid each other a good morning, my eye was caught by the dog's undercarriage. There dwelt the traditional items, save only that one of them was unusually round and somewhat bulbous.  I meant to bark a greeting - but it came out:

"Nippie Bartram!"  Oops.  Well, it was rather remarkable...

"Yes?" he replied politely "Do I know you, my dear?  I don't believe I have had the pleasure...?"

I hastened to redeem myself. "Oh no," I hastily yipped "someone told me about your lovely fur and handsome tail - I recognised you from that!"  Nippie seemed pleased and gratified by this and went on his way wagging the massive tail.

But, although I didn't feel inclined to add to the wee-mail posts, I couldn't deny it.

Nippie Bartram has got a willie like a turnip.

Later in the afternoon, Mistress took me for a good long walk.  I was minded towards a spot of digging, the effects of which Mistress found amusing, though I can't say I can see it myself.

Have you met Salvador Dalí...?

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x
 

Tuesday 24 November 2020

Not such a good day today, though the weather was remarkably fine.

No, today was the third (third; it doesn't seem possible...) anniversary of the sudden and tragic death of my Mistress's father and my "Mr. Roger".  He was a good man.  We went and put some flowers on his grave.

The church cat tried his best to disturb me, deliberately positioning himself in my line of vision to sharpen his claws on a yew tree.

But I ignored his prancing.  This was not the day to give him the satisfaction of a response.

It really doesn't seem like three years ago today.  I still miss him every day. And still very glad that, just for a little while, he was my Mr. Roger.

"The last enemy that shall be defeated is death." 1 Corinthians 15 v26

(and quoted in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling)

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Sunday 22 November 2020

Word recognition. 

According to a psychologist, a dog can learn approximately 165 words.  I shudder to look back at my early illiterate posts.  As a pup education was just "something for others to worry about".  I was too busy being pretty.  Well, I am still busy being pretty, just with a better vocabulary.  My (and Jasper's) late friend Ewan, of limited brain but infinite affection, would probably have interpreted this as, and been happy with, learning the same word 165 times.

My recognition of words sometimes prompts amusement.  My mistress's mother (my GrannaPea) generally says "Right!" whenever movement is imminent; from her chair, out the door, to the kitchen, etc., any or all of which might involve a treat for me.  And so what is a girl to do but respond appropriately?  I leap up, eager for my prize.  I have learned the times at which it is most likely to occur and am subtly on the watch.  Last night, for example, I perfected the art of soundly sleeping without actually being asleep.  I even snored.  When the "right!" came I went in a heartbeat from snoring and twitching to being bright, alert and squeaking for the off.  No-one appreciated my skill and I was laughed at.  Cruel.  Actually, I am often laughed at for responding enthusiastically at every uttered "right!".  But I get my revenge.  I do.

Mistress has another word for me: "mistress".  Or, more specifically "mistress of the protest-pee".  Because, even if my bladder is empty and running on dry, I am able to produce a noxious brew of pee, expertly directed where it is least-likely to be welcome.  I have climbed shelves in the airing cupboard, taken items from a clothes-line or a peg and when the boiler cupboard was emptied of sheets and clothes for the annual boiler-service I nearly died of dehydration.  Each item had to be washed twice.  Hehehe...  Perhaps that will teach certain people to not let the treat-jar become empty...

I think my greatest triumph in the urine-as-righteous-retribution department was on the last holiday that we were all together as a family, back in 2017.  We had a holiday cottage in Wales.  I had a lovely time with my cousin Doug and his family.  On the last night, Mistress's brother had arranged a family dinner out at the local pub.  As the time drew nearer, I carefully prepared my fur in a winning style and took care to ensure that my eyes and ears were clean.  I was therefore most put out when Doug and I were taken out for a brisk walk "to do their business before we go out".  Doug and I did our duty, though I didn't really understand why we were going out before we went out.  I did soon afterwards though.  Doug and I were ushered to our baskets in the kitchen and watched as everyone else went out.  I was not impressed.  I gave them fifteen minutes' grace to rethink their plans and return.  After that, there was only one course of action to take...

I tried to get Doug to come with me, but he refused and even tried to persuade me not to go.  I love Doug very much but he really a goody-goody.  He flinches at the mere mention of cheekiness and, if I was a snippy type, I would say that he is too highly-strung for his own good.  It's almost impossible to engage him in mischief.  Every time I try, he either stares at me without understanding or runs off to tell tales on me.  No-one to tell tales to this time, so I set off alone along the passage.  I passed Mistress's and my room.  I knew who the villain of this piece was.  I pushed open the door of the bedroom allocated to Mistress's brother and his wife.  There, on the floor, lay his suitcase.  It was full, everybody having packed ready for an early-morning departure.  My way was clear.  I flipped the lid over, climbed in and deployed my golden liquid revenge.  All over his neatly folded clothes.  ALL over.

I was in a lot of trouble.  Mistress's mother had to wash every item in the suitcase again and have it dried before departure.  Mistress was joined as a partner in my disgrace.  It was not a happy occasion.

I learned a few new words that day.

Stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling.

Lots of love from Gisèle x

These two look familiar.

Saturday 21 November 2020

I am trying to think of something smart to write upon this blog.  All the while knowing that I am not as witty and will never be as clever as Jasper.  Funny things don't really happen to me like they seemed to with him (for, as unlikely as it may seem, a lot of the escapades and antics described by Jasper, and the personalities (or dogsonalities...?) he encountered had their basis in truth or actual living beings).  

Accidents happen to me, that's for sure - there have been no shortage of those.  I almost drowned, I have been stamped on by a cow, been trapped underground (wedged into a rabbit warren by a tree root), been badly bitten by a bigger dog, impaled from shoulder to groin on a long spike (I ran onto it; only by a miracle did I survive - a millimetre to the left or right and either a major artery or my heart would have been pierced. That was around 5 hours in surgery and several thousand pounds' worth of treatment.  But I pulled myself off the spike unaided - I might not be the brightest crayon in the tin but I think I AM brave), suffered a phantom pregnancy and the dreaded pyometra.  By the natural order of things I probably shouldn't be alive.  But I am - and happily thankful to be so, too. I enjoy my life; life is a short yet beautiful thing and I don't want to waste mine.  My Mistress and others say how 'chilled out' I am.  It's true - I don't mind gunshot, fireworks or thunderstorms.  I only once got so seriously scared by a storm that I almost wet my fur; that was when the storm was right overhead and the most almighty crack of lightning happened in the same instant as an explosion of thunder so great that the windows in the house all shook. I did what any self-respecting terrier would do in the situation and hid under the duvet.  Generally, then, I am a fairly philosophical little lass, rolling along with life as it comes and with whatever it brings to the party.

I have been looking back at old blog entries, to try and get some inspiration for amusing and engaging things to write about.  And what did I find? Here - my first EVER appearance on this blog in 2012, five months after Jasper went to Heaven. Complete with embarrassing photograph.  

I suppose that this makes me 9 years old; I'll take that, happy with that.  Respectably middle-aged.  Not quite as bonkers as when I was a pup, but still reassuringly (or not, depending on your point of view) ME, hehe!

After a bit more looking, I thought I might share with you the time that my Mistress, Betty (my Giant Schnauzer friend who used to stay with us sometimes) nearly ended up getting arrested.  I think it might have been posted before, but it probably bears a second barking...

We were, all three, in the car (the Gizmobile), all behaving ourselves very properly, Betty 'riding shotgun', with Mistress driving and I sitting in the back, on our way to work.  My Mistress noticed in her rear-view mirror that we were being followed by a Police Officer on a motorbike.  On exiting the first of two adjacent roundabouts it became very clear, from his flashing blue lights and obvious hand signals, that we must pull over and switch off our engine.  After negotiating the second roundabout, Mistress steered the car into a lay-by at the top of the road.  After telling us to ("for goodness' sake, girls!") behave ourselves, she wound down her window and waited for the officer's approach.  Uh-oh - what had we done wrong to attract his displeasure?!

We sat in an uneasy silence as the Policeman got off his motorcycle and marched crossly towards us.
"Hello sir!" Mistress greeted him brightly, trying to smile and not look shifty, "Is everything all right?"

The scowling gent glared at her.
"Is that child wearing a seatbelt?!" he barked angrily at my Mistress.  Her winning smile faltered in her confusion.
"Excuse me?"
"THAT CHILD!" he snapped, irritably.  "In your front passenger seat!  Is it WEARING a SEATBELT?!"
"Um...."

At this point, and with impeccable comic timing, Betty turned her great shaggy, tousle-furred head to look at the officer.  The Policeman did a spectacular comedy double-take and leapt backwards at least three feet in length.
"Aaaarrooohhh!" he yelped, mid-jump, almost tripping over his own feet in his shock.  "It's a DOG!"

"Yes." said Mistress, torn between being amused and wondering how anyone could be so stupid as to confuse the back of a dog's head with that of a child's, as well as mindful that she didn't want to aggravate an officer of the law in an already testing situation.
"A dog!" repeated the Policeman.  "Not a child!  But from the back it looked-"
"Yes." said my Mistress again.  "She's got my eyes and her father's tail.  We're very proud."

The unfortunate man gaped, open-mouthed, at all three of us, temporarily incapable of speech, while I promise that I tried my very hard best not to giggle out loud. 

"Erm," spluttered the Officer, trying (and failing) to recover a bit of his lost credibility.  "I'd better let you get on your way, madam... I am sorry to have troubled you..."
"That's OK.  Thank you." replied my Mistress, though this was lost on the Policeman's hastily retreating rear as he stumbled back to his motorbike and sped off as quickly as the law would allow.

We all laughed as we went on our way again.  At least, until we stopped at the next set of traffic lights.  Mistress looked thoughtfully in the mirror and soberly rubbed her chin.  "Hang on..." she said slowly, examining her reflection, "That chap thought that a Giant Schnauzer was legitimately MY CHILD." She frowned and carefully rubbed her chin again "Time to get me an ol' shave..."  I didn't understand, but Betty did and the two of us kept laughing all the way to the office.

I will try and think of some more things to write about.  In the meantime, stay safe, be nice to each other and keep smiling (even if it's a bit difficult sometimes).

Lots of love from Gisèle x

Me and my cousin Doug. Mistress says that

we look like King Charles II and Nell Gwynne.

Hmmm... I don't like oranges. But I do like Doug.

Saturday 14 November 2020

Well, here we still are.  Despite the virus, despite the lingering wafts of the Donald about the White House in the USA.  Despite even the weather, which today is wet and stormy.  I'm still me and Mistress is still Mistress.

I have been reading all about Jasper in his Evolution series and his other blog entries.  He started his blog long, long before I was even a tiny puppy.  On August 13 2006 - 2006!! - I can't even imagine what it must have been like all that long time ago...  Here is his first ever entry, which sparked the flame of this blog: The very BEGINNING.

It went on to record a lot of his life, and that of his friends (and enemies. Thankfully Peaches is no longer with us.  He has been succeeded by Merlin, cheeky - but not an evil being).  Honey is still around, and Archie, but that is all now from Jasper's day.  The blog has also had stories about me and my friend Betty.  I haven't seen Betty for a long time. I suppose she is with Jasper, Ewan and Fizzy now.  But I hope there will be lots more stories about me to come.  I am going to try to write some bits about me, although I think they might be a bit boring at the moment.  "Virus still about, had a socially-distanced walk and apart from that stayed in." gets boring very quickly if you keep barking it.

I am very glad that we have these stories of his life and his times, and the pictures.  They bring the old days to life and mean that our long-gone friends can walk beside us once more.   But, even in all of the present madness, we are doing our best. And very happy to be doing just that.

Keep smiling! Love from Gisèle x

Friday 27 March 2020

Any relative novelty at being housebound is seriously beginning to wear off.  Mistress is almost climbing the walls and although I can occupy myself in the garden (thank goodness for gardens) I am feeling distinctly fed-up.  So fed-up in fact that, earlier this afternoon, when Mistress was on a live webchat with her colleagues I climbed onto her lap and tried to display my fou-fou on the screen.  I was quickly ushered away in disgrace.

Mistress and I have been out for our once-a-day permitted exercise and were able to buy some food and some treats for me.  A blessing - in South Africa their government has instructed that even walking a pet dog is a forbidden activity.  I was very struck by the households where there are obviously small children.  A great many of them had very bright and jolly pictures and drawings in the windows. Mostly rainbows and smiley faces, but some had also written "thank you NHS" or just plain "thank you".  Lovely to behold and terribly touching.  Much that is good can come out from within this global hell.

And that brings me on to yesterday evening.  As a nation, we were encouraged to stand at our windows or doors and applaud the wonderful NHS workers (who number among them Mistress's brother and sister-in-law), carers and support staff.  I was somewhat cynical, especially on learning that some bright spark had called the effort "Clap for the Carers" (surely the very last thing they would want at the moment), but when the ripple of applause from neighbours and nearby streets began, Mistress and I immediately opened our front door and heartily joined in (well, I did until I spotted my long-time nemesis, The Toad (he is a toad), who dares to live in MY garden, in the front border under the honeysuckle.  Then I had to go indoors because my barking was rude).  It was a touching and powerful thing; most of our neighbours clapping, cheering, some banging saucepan lids and pots.  All the more so for my Mistress, as she has spent considerable time in hospital just lately and the lady in the house opposite ours is a nurse who helped tend to her.  We gave her a special cheer and she waved. It was a very, very special thing in these desperate days and most moving.

Enough of my cynicism returned to me today, however, to make me consider how galling this must all be to those who set  store by psychics, horoscopes and fortune-telling.  No-one predicted this chaos, did they?!


My feelgood clip for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AHfHMvH7owo

Thursday 26 March 2020

Another day in lockdown.  I mean, it IS happening, isn't it?  It all seems so mad that at times I think I might have eaten some cat food by mistake and am dreaming.  But it does seem to be true.  Jasper would be able to explain it to me, I know.  But he isn't here.  So I just try to understand as much as I can and refuse to join in panic.  On my walk yesterday evening some dog had left a weemail post on a wall about how all pets were going to starve to death because our Masters and Mistresses were all going to die from plague.  I gave the post the respect it deserved and wee-ed over it.

Here are some top tips for staying sane in a household at present:

1.  Appreciate that your Mistress's foot is still not right after her hospital stay and is getting sore again.
   
2.  Don't wee on her things and especially not on freshly cleaned clothing.
   
3.  Don't watch stuff on YouTube that makes you cry.
   
4.  Smile at people and wag your tail.
   
5.  [Important] When your Mistress opens a bottle of pop to drink with her tablets, if it should 'explode' and shower her with fizz, do not react. Certainly do not laugh at her so hard that a little bit of nose-juice trickles down your snout and has to be wiped clean.

If you follow these simple steps you will find your life in isolation that little bit sweeter.

Here is my feelgood clip for today: https://youtu.be/nGeKSiCQkPw.  Actually, I'm not sure of the direction these clip choices are taking. Yesterday, very pro-feline; today, well... It's not my fault I went in the house.  Those towels WANTED me to pee on them; they begged me.  So did the T-shirt.  And the pants.*

*(Actually I might be lying about the pants.  But I DID pee on them, hihihihiiii).

Wednesday 25 March 2020

Here I am! Still Gisele, still alive.  Though these are very scary times for people and dogs everywhere, what with Coronavirus stalking the planet like a silent, malevolent curse.  But there is NO evidence at all to suggest that the virus can spread to pets. Just humans.

We have been here in lockdown since the weekend, going quietly insane.  At the moment we can still go for our walks and enjoy the spring sunshine.  Mistress suggested that we fire up this blogbeast once again to keep ourselves at least partially sane. Though you may judge our relative sanity for yourself before the end of this global crisis.

Though today, they announced the following: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-52033153 The Village People's YMCA is being preserved for posterity, so at least some construction work is going on somewhere...

In the meantime, take a moment, if you can, to appreciate what IS still out there.  Newly-nesting birds in an atmosphere relatively free of planes and most cars.  A ray of sunshine.  The best of spirits that many people are exhibiting in their concern for others at present.  And there remain cats out there.  They won't bark at themselves, you know.  They rely on you to bark filth at them.

But, and to show that I am not completely anti-cat, here is my feel-good clip for today... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btuxO-C2IzE