Olympics - day 3

Yesterday, when I said there was no chance of doing a tribute to the canoe slalom, I forgot about this:

Granted, it's a sheep trough in a sea of grass, but there is water involved. And Mojo being a goofball. I hope it counts.

Right, got to dash, the GB men's gymnastic team are about to win a medal and it's way too exciting.

Olympics day 2

Well, it's day 2 of the Olympics and we've been scratching our collective heads on which sport to feature. The cycling would be tricky without opposable thumbs, even though the capacity for complete chaos is greatly appealing to an Airedale. Digger refuses to get his feet wet so canoe slalom is out. Beach volleyball seemed a possibility until we mentioned bikini at which point he gave us a tragi-comic look and went off to chew his feet.

In the end we went the easy route and had a game of volleyball.

Mojo makes up for her arthritic hips with her superior nose/eye coordination. I'm not entirely sure we could pass them off for a team, though. Once that ball got to ground level it was all bears for themselves. I bet real volleyball players don't puncture all their balls and expect someone to pump them up after every point.

Olympic fever

Woo hoo! The Olympics are finally here! Did you see that opening ceremony? The lighting of the cauldron with the Olympic flame made our hair stand on end, and there's a few in this house who have quite a lot of hair.

Back in May the torch route passed through Devon, but sadly we were unable to get to it. Although there was a niggling thought that two Airedales, running people, fire and national tv crews were a recipe for disaster. We'd just like to state that the 'rogue dog' than ran through the middle of the cycle race today was nothing to do with us.

Anyway, we're still getting into the Olympic spirit. Yesterday just after 8am there was a mass bell ringing, and how could we refuse? Three minutes of Digger losing his mind with excitement. I was laughing too hard to photograph him so I had to re-enact it this afternoon. Yep, he still loved it. I also discovered that he barks at the same rate as my camera shutter fires on continuous release as I ended up with 30 shots which had his mouth shut. Spooky, as I swear his mouth was open and yelling the entire time.

Anyway, he shouldn't think it's all fun and games. Just like the athletes, there is a lot of tension in getting a performance right. Trying to get a shuttlecock to balance on his head is a serious business. There's the added stress of knowing the wide angle lens is going to make his nose look even bigger, too.

We've been really bad at getting round to blogging recently, so we've decided to challenge ourselves to posting daily through the Olympics. The idea is to create an Airedale tribute to a different sport every day. We started with Badminton, which kicked off today. Lightning fast reaction times and chasing after little flying things gets the seal of Airedale approval.

Any other dog-bloggers want to join in? (cat bloggers, hammie bloggers etc too).

Big fella

Yesterday Mr Hormones turned One. The weather gods smiled and we hit the beach.

  

Mojo used to be in sole charge of the tennis balls...

...but that was before that little puppy grew into a hulking, speedy, greedy adolescent dog.

Digger is a handsome chap, but doesn't believe in sharing toys. He's still very respectful of Mojo's food, but simply grabs any toy he wants straight out of her mouth.

And pulls this face at the humans. It says "betcha want this" and "can't have it" in one easy look. There's a touch of "go on, chase me" in there, too.

 

He easily finds the only stick on the entire beach.

 

But that doesn't mean he's letting go of the ball. He is, however, a little confused about some other (ahem) balls the humans keep talking about. Apparently they need to go. Something to do with them growing faster than his brain.

Perhaps they're right, because Mojo can run rings around him in the strategy department.  She's a girl brimming with smart ideas, and he's such a wimp.

But it always ends up with him playing hit and run. 

Such a fabulous morning, though. We set out early to hit low tide and it was wonderfully warm and still, and the colours of the water and cliffs were lovely. These cliffs are at the beginning of the famous Jurassic Coast of Devon and Dorset.

 

Stupidly someone mentioned a fry-up on the way home, and it's one of those things that you know you'll have to do once you've mentioned it. Very thin slices of crispy oak-smoked bacon and scrambled eggs from our own chickens. Don't mention diet, ok? 

 Look at those faces! Mojo has her best princess pup-girl look on and Digger is all greedy sly eyes. He hoped for a birthday plate of his own. But as always, they extracted a tithe.

Doctor Who

Imagine if Doctor Who had Airedales as his assistants.
They are brave, helpful, enthusiastic and mad as a hatter. They don't pay much attention to that timey-wimey stuff and love to press buttons they shouldn't just to see what happens. Happy to bark at daleks. Scoff at anyone who calls themselves The Master.

We got this printed on an iPhone case as a birthday present for Mum's niece, who lives way over the other side of the world. Hope she likes it!

Digger

This blog used to just for Mojo. But then so did the dog food.

Meet Digger aka "Captain Cuddle".

Handsome, yes? He's going to be a year old in two weeks. He's already 30kg and in the full throes of adolescence. Poor boy fell desperately in love with Mojo this week - triggered by them both having a bath and coming up fragrant with cinnamon dog shampoo. Nothing rude going on, just heartbreaking, obsessional luuuuurve. But I get ahead of myself.

Here's how it started. Mojo is really into other dogs, and we're really into her (she's awesome, like all Dales). We kept talking about another puppy but never doing anything about it, until we saw an ad within reasonable distance. We went to have a look. Just a look. Let's gloss over the fact we stopped at the bank to get the entire amount required. And took the cat basket just in case.

Anyway, he's one of 10 pups brought up in a lovely home. We could have stayed there all day.

We chose the calmest, cuddliest boy. He was earmarked for someone else, but they weren't even going to come and see him. They lived in one of the poshest parts of central London and were going to sent the chauffeur down to collect him. Imagine! Wonder how long he would have lasted till he was returned to the breeder.

So back we came with a little brother for Mojo, just in time for her birthday.

She turned out to be the most exceptional mother-substitute (once she got over the shock). It's like she grew up overnight. And gained a few white hairs in the process. Here's Day 2 with Digger literally running rings around her.

What's really strange is that I have a picture of Mojo with Digger's dad. Here's Mojo at 5 months checking out Gunner's posterior.

Funny old world.

ummm....

Oh dear. I had a little nap. I was snoring a little.




And the last time I blogged was April 2008! Whaaat? Am I Rip Van Winkle or something?

I'm sure everyone gave up on me a long time ago, so I'm probably talking to myself. But I've been meaning to get started again. Mum still reads many of the other dog blogs so I know a little of what's been going on - glad to see everyone is keeping their humans on their toes. There's been a lot of heartbreaking stories too. Only the other day we lost Maggie, which made us very sad indeed. It made me realise that if people stopped blogging I'd never know how they were, and that would be awful.

So in case you forgot what this gorgeous mug of mine looks like:


You can't imagine what's been happening round here these last few years. First they go all Damien Hirst on me and stick me in a tank:


Then they rescue this huge panther:


And if that wasn't enough, they got me this as a birthday present last year - I can guarantee it hasn't stayed this quiet or cute ever since:


Right, off for another nap. Girl needs her beauty sleep, right?
This time I promise it won't be 4 years.