Je m'appelle Gisele. Je non comprenez pas les attaques de la belle France. C'est incroyable. Tres, tres tragique. Moi, je ne comprends pas.
129 (et plus possible) victimes. 129. Les touts sont dans ma coeur.
Et pourqois?! Pourqois les touts morts?
Mais, je suis seulment un petit chienne d'Angleterre. Je ne sais pas pourqois...
Mon Coeur ne marche pas. Je suis avec touts mes amies Francais de cette fois. Mes amies; je t'aime. Je t'aime.
Repose en paix, touts mes amies en Paris, et le tout de France. Mon Dieu. x
Monday, 16 November 2015
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
Wednesday 30 September 2015
Today marked the end of an era. My partner passed her last day in the office in the yard where once Ewan, Fizzy and I ran and played. Her job has changed and she has moved to a different location.
It was a sad break with many happy memories. Not only were many happy hours passed there, with numerous japes and adventures (all to be found in earlier entries on this post), it was from that office that I began my final journey, with the fond wishes of colleagues and friends ringing in my tired ears.
It was ALSO the setting for the occasion when I espied a tiny, gimlet-eyed terrier puppy of great beauty and possessed of a saucy smile. She was so tiny and young that she could not be let out of the van in which she sat as she had not had her first injections - so she remained a mere vision.
No longer. Little did I imagine that she would one day be so instrumental in helping to dry my partners' tears.
My partner has promised Gisèle that they will return to the much-loved woodlands for walks. My partner's parents will be caring for sweet 'Sèle during the days from now on, as she is not permitted to accompany my partner to her new office. This, too, represents an unhappy breach; yet we must be thankful that my partner still has a job in these troubled times - and a job that will offer interesting challenges and oportunities. Gisèle believes that she will have new interesting challenges and opportunities too. She thinks that she will be able to easily hoodwink my partner's parents into giving in to her every wish. I fear she will be swiftly undeceived.
I have much more to share with you on my partner's recent brush with death and hospital sojourn. But the hour grows late and rest ought not to be delayed; tomorrow brings the start of a new era for my partner and little Gisèle...
Pip-pip!
It was a sad break with many happy memories. Not only were many happy hours passed there, with numerous japes and adventures (all to be found in earlier entries on this post), it was from that office that I began my final journey, with the fond wishes of colleagues and friends ringing in my tired ears.
It was ALSO the setting for the occasion when I espied a tiny, gimlet-eyed terrier puppy of great beauty and possessed of a saucy smile. She was so tiny and young that she could not be let out of the van in which she sat as she had not had her first injections - so she remained a mere vision.
No longer. Little did I imagine that she would one day be so instrumental in helping to dry my partners' tears.
My partner has promised Gisèle that they will return to the much-loved woodlands for walks. My partner's parents will be caring for sweet 'Sèle during the days from now on, as she is not permitted to accompany my partner to her new office. This, too, represents an unhappy breach; yet we must be thankful that my partner still has a job in these troubled times - and a job that will offer interesting challenges and oportunities. Gisèle believes that she will have new interesting challenges and opportunities too. She thinks that she will be able to easily hoodwink my partner's parents into giving in to her every wish. I fear she will be swiftly undeceived.
I have much more to share with you on my partner's recent brush with death and hospital sojourn. But the hour grows late and rest ought not to be delayed; tomorrow brings the start of a new era for my partner and little Gisèle...
Pip-pip!
Sunday, 6 September 2015
Sunday 6 September 2015
A brief explanation of our silence: My partner has been ill - seriously so and, over the past ten days, mortally so. For nine of these past days she has been in (and, indeed, this message is written from) hospital.
On Monday night we faced each other directly once again; I went to walk her Home.
But it was not her time so, as her sleep grew easy once more, I stole silently away. My duty was unneeded.
My partner is now recuperating steadily and an imminent release from hospital is anticipated, though there may still be some challenges to face in the weeks ahead.
But face them we will - and our courage shall not be found wanting. The all will soon be told.
Until then; good night.
On Monday night we faced each other directly once again; I went to walk her Home.
But it was not her time so, as her sleep grew easy once more, I stole silently away. My duty was unneeded.
My partner is now recuperating steadily and an imminent release from hospital is anticipated, though there may still be some challenges to face in the weeks ahead.
But face them we will - and our courage shall not be found wanting. The all will soon be told.
Until then; good night.
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Wednesday 29 July 2015
Nothing of note to report from the battlefield of "No Dogs' Land". There have been advances, withdrawals and temporary truces on both sides - but nothing to mark any significant progress on either side.
The battle-lines have long been drawn at my former dwelling, my partner's parents' house, between Gisèle and a doughty rodent whom we shall name "Rockery Mouse".
For most of last summer, Gisèle would painstakingly dismantle the small rockery in the garden, stone by stone, in pursuit of a mouse of sorts whose presence in the vicinity was really rather obvious. Failing success in that part of his haunt, she continued to stalk him behind the garden tool-store, at the back of the seedling shelves and below some spare paving slabs. She - occasionally accompanied by a completely indifferent Betty - succeeded in smoking-out a large and grumpy toad, who wasted no time in telling her to go away, but drew a blank wherever the wily mouse was concerned.
I had better fortune in seeing the mouse - my limited presence being less alarming to nervous creatures. I have to bark that his appearance was somewhat unusual, being something more than a mouse yet something less than a rat. I recalled the occasion some years ago when an odd specimen literally dropped from the sky into my garden - Here - and wondered if sweet 'Sèle's present nemesis could be one of his descendants. Well, I bark, one of his descendants - for there are now several. The lone mouse that has haunted the garden for at least a year has become several. He must have acquired himself a mate and the inevitable babes that fruit from such an union.
The presence of a number of mice has seemingly been confirmed by Gisèle's recent antics in tearing up not only the rockery but also two of my partner's parents' garden borders and a carefully-planted large flower tub. Gisèle was NOT popular when the aftermath of her industry was discovered - to the extent that a large section of the garden has been fenced-off to prevent her access with no less than TWO sections of fencing. Thwarted again! But those who know Gisèle may appreciate that she will not be thwarted for long.
"I's calling in professional help." she grumbled, as her soil and compost-covered self was hauled away in disgrace by my partner.
"Oh yes?" I responded, one eyebrow quizzically raised, wondering who she could have in mind. Betty was sufficiently indifferent to the mouse issue as to rule out any application for her assistance.
"Yes." replied Giz. "I need advice from a professional. I's not letting this go."
"No?"
"No! I'm going to get advice. I's not losing this, not after all this time has happened."
"Who are you going to ask, Gizzy?"
"The best in the business, of course!" she declared. "I am going to get from the very, very best. From Peaches."
Forgive my sceptical fatalism - but this is unlikely to end well.
Good night.
The battle-lines have long been drawn at my former dwelling, my partner's parents' house, between Gisèle and a doughty rodent whom we shall name "Rockery Mouse".
For most of last summer, Gisèle would painstakingly dismantle the small rockery in the garden, stone by stone, in pursuit of a mouse of sorts whose presence in the vicinity was really rather obvious. Failing success in that part of his haunt, she continued to stalk him behind the garden tool-store, at the back of the seedling shelves and below some spare paving slabs. She - occasionally accompanied by a completely indifferent Betty - succeeded in smoking-out a large and grumpy toad, who wasted no time in telling her to go away, but drew a blank wherever the wily mouse was concerned.
I had better fortune in seeing the mouse - my limited presence being less alarming to nervous creatures. I have to bark that his appearance was somewhat unusual, being something more than a mouse yet something less than a rat. I recalled the occasion some years ago when an odd specimen literally dropped from the sky into my garden - Here - and wondered if sweet 'Sèle's present nemesis could be one of his descendants. Well, I bark, one of his descendants - for there are now several. The lone mouse that has haunted the garden for at least a year has become several. He must have acquired himself a mate and the inevitable babes that fruit from such an union.
The presence of a number of mice has seemingly been confirmed by Gisèle's recent antics in tearing up not only the rockery but also two of my partner's parents' garden borders and a carefully-planted large flower tub. Gisèle was NOT popular when the aftermath of her industry was discovered - to the extent that a large section of the garden has been fenced-off to prevent her access with no less than TWO sections of fencing. Thwarted again! But those who know Gisèle may appreciate that she will not be thwarted for long.
"I's calling in professional help." she grumbled, as her soil and compost-covered self was hauled away in disgrace by my partner.
"Oh yes?" I responded, one eyebrow quizzically raised, wondering who she could have in mind. Betty was sufficiently indifferent to the mouse issue as to rule out any application for her assistance.
"Yes." replied Giz. "I need advice from a professional. I's not letting this go."
"No?"
"No! I'm going to get advice. I's not losing this, not after all this time has happened."
"Who are you going to ask, Gizzy?"
"The best in the business, of course!" she declared. "I am going to get from the very, very best. From Peaches."
Forgive my sceptical fatalism - but this is unlikely to end well.
Good night.
Wednesday, 1 July 2015
Wednesday 1 July 2015
The second great war has begun. One against several this time. Stay tuned for further updates from the frontline...
Sunday, 3 May 2015
Sunday 3 May 2015
A very long time has passed since there was a rational bark on this blog. I blame a combination of factors: my partner's second job and long working hours; her sometime ill health (now approaching the road to recovery, thankfully) and Gisèle's general preoccupation with things a young lady ought not to be considering...
I am happy to report that her behaviour has shown a vast improvement of late. Not that she was ever a particularly naughty girl, but she is now completely, 100%, trustworthy with all farm animals and horses. Sheep (and anything else besides) may safely graze in the presence of little Gisèle, she pays them no heed. I cannot rightly say when this transformation took place and it was certainly a realisation she ceme to by herself, as my partner had long been exasperated by the terrier's inappropriate belligerence. It has made a great deal of difference - unless roads are involved no lead is necessary for sweet Giz.
Alas, her indefatigable campaign against squirrels continues unabated. She caught and killed her first one last week. The kill was incredibly swift and totally bloodless. Gisèle was immensely proud of herself - right up to the point where she put down the ex-squirrel and tried to wake it up so that it could play with her. Once the truth had been explained, poor Giz became quite mortified and was very subdued for the rest of the evening. She hasn't learned from the experience, however, and is still to be often found pursuing squirrels or shouting up at them from the ground... I have washed my paws of this madness.
A very happy event in our nation's history today: the safe arrival of a baby princess for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, a sister for HRH Prince George. She hasn't been named officially yet. I overheard Giz in the garden this morning, confidently assuring Rosie that the new baby will be called Princess Gisèle. Personally I have my doubts over this but, wishing to avoid a tiresome and ultimately futile dispute, I chose not to comment. Rosie seemed persuaded by Gisèle and barked only that she thought that the royal infant should be called Princess Gisèle Rosemary. Both girls agreed on this, before launching themselves into a mad play-fight which brought neither of them any dignity.
I am in hopes that a further entry may soon be forthcoming.
Good night.
I am happy to report that her behaviour has shown a vast improvement of late. Not that she was ever a particularly naughty girl, but she is now completely, 100%, trustworthy with all farm animals and horses. Sheep (and anything else besides) may safely graze in the presence of little Gisèle, she pays them no heed. I cannot rightly say when this transformation took place and it was certainly a realisation she ceme to by herself, as my partner had long been exasperated by the terrier's inappropriate belligerence. It has made a great deal of difference - unless roads are involved no lead is necessary for sweet Giz.
Alas, her indefatigable campaign against squirrels continues unabated. She caught and killed her first one last week. The kill was incredibly swift and totally bloodless. Gisèle was immensely proud of herself - right up to the point where she put down the ex-squirrel and tried to wake it up so that it could play with her. Once the truth had been explained, poor Giz became quite mortified and was very subdued for the rest of the evening. She hasn't learned from the experience, however, and is still to be often found pursuing squirrels or shouting up at them from the ground... I have washed my paws of this madness.
A very happy event in our nation's history today: the safe arrival of a baby princess for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, a sister for HRH Prince George. She hasn't been named officially yet. I overheard Giz in the garden this morning, confidently assuring Rosie that the new baby will be called Princess Gisèle. Personally I have my doubts over this but, wishing to avoid a tiresome and ultimately futile dispute, I chose not to comment. Rosie seemed persuaded by Gisèle and barked only that she thought that the royal infant should be called Princess Gisèle Rosemary. Both girls agreed on this, before launching themselves into a mad play-fight which brought neither of them any dignity.
I am in hopes that a further entry may soon be forthcoming.
Good night.
Tuesday, 14 April 2015
Tuesday 14 / Wednesday 15 April 2015
God bless Gamon de Pycombe, Kitty and all the other dogs and peoples lost on this night in our year number 1912. Mistress and Jasper tells me about of them and I am sad and wishes for that I can have saved them.
They are rests in peace. Yes. But I am sorry acause of what happened.
I sends love and respects to them as lost their VERY PRECIOUS lives this night 103 ago.
Bye-byelovefrom gisEle-STEPHanie xxxx
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