big week

Mum is getting behind with posts again. I'm going to sack her soon for being totally incompetent.

Back on Sunday we went out with a whole load of Airedales - about twenty! - and their humans for a walk. But mummy is being too slow at sorting the photos so I can't post anything yet.

Meanwhile, it was Dad's birthday this week. So Mum made him a card featuring two of his favourite things, Liverpool FC and me. Of course me. I come first!



It isn't a Photoshop trick, I did really wear this scarf. But I refused the hat and then chewed them both.

And today I am six months old. We're going over to Rooster and Sol's house for a sleepover so I am going to have a great time.

I promise to catch up once all the festivities are over.

Sit

Saturday mornings are getting better and better. I've started going round to see my friends Rooster and Sol whose mum is running a puppy training session. More pup play = more good!

OK, so my level of concentration is poor at times and I just want to jump around like a nutter, but I'm only five months old and allowed to be an Airehead.

Though sometimes I'm impeccably well behaved. Here I am with Rooster and Sol doing a triple sit for their human boy, AJ.


I had a good wrestle with Jess the Jack Russell and left loads of blood all over her nice white coat. No, I didn't maul her - I'm just teething really badly at the moment and anything I chew gets covered.

What with my puppy class on Monday nights, I'm expected to sort my fuzzy brain out and start learning a thing or two. Darn. I thought it was just a puppy play party.

So how come our cats don't have to go to class, huh? Why don't they do tricks? I don't see them having to wait for the signal before they are allowed to eat their dinner. They get to walk over the table. They get to sit on the sofa. They get to sleep in the bedroom. And they don't do a SINGLE TRICK!

summertime

Yesterday we went over to Rooster and Sol's village and went for a walk downriver. They decided to teach me the rudiments of swimming although I still wouldn't go in further than belly depth. Rooster is not as fast as he used to be, but still swims a mean water-fetch. But mostly we all stood around in the water - dogs and people - and I did my best to get everyone's trousers wet.



I have to show you this picture of Sol running, even though it's blurry. He's amazing. He's so huge and so fast, and as he hurtles by his feet thunder on the ground. I've a bit of a crush on him, so whenever I'm on a walk and see lurchers in the distance I go crazy thinking it might be him. So far he kindly tolerates me but seems to find my beard-pulling antics childish and annoying. But a girl can dream....



My final act of the day was to be sick in the pub garden because I had eaten too much cow poo. Better out than in, as they say.

missing Rooster

Rooster has gone back to stay with his family. I'm sure you can hear my huge theatrical sighs of gloom from there.

Things i miss

- I just miss him. Lots.
- I really miss stealing his bed, either just nabbing it for myself and making him sleep on the hard floor, or running off with the blanket and dumping it in the garden.
- I miss us being able to perform 'two lead crucifixion' on mum. You know... when two dogs walking on the lead head in separate directions at different speeds.
- I miss laughing when he is too doddery to cock his leg when peeing.


Things I am glad for

- I get the squeaky dino Cuz all to myself
- I don't have to put up with his snoring

Things I learnt

- Ignore growls and snarls, they don't mean it. Pups get away with murder. Ditto with humans yelling 'no' or 'off'.
- Rooster walks so slowly he gets miles behind on a walk and ignores all calls to come. Which means I can too.
- One for the future: the Rooster treasure hunt. Stand in the middle of the lawn and start to poo. Continue walking while pooing so you leave each bit about 12 foot apart. Remember not to walk in straight lines - mum will have to search when clearing up with the poo shovel.

Things that still puzzle me

- Why the cats are not afraid of him but hide from me?
- Why does he find me so annoying?

holidays are over

Rooster's family are back from holiday today. While they are on their way back from Heathrow airport we went for one last walk. As usual, I ran, and Rooster tottered. In keeping with the sombre mood, the weather broke. Good job the local farmer got the harvest in a couple of days ago. (Incidentally, the other night my parents had to move the cars to let the combine harvester get down the lane and I took the opportunity to eat their pizza. I was not popular.)



I tried so hard today to get Rooster to play. I hope I don't get this grumpy when I am old.



Luckily I met one of my favourite friends down the towpath, a 4-year-old lab called Heidi. She loves it when I behave like an idiot.



I've been to two puppy socialisation classes where I behave impeccably, but when I am on a walk I always jump on people's heads. Luckily Heidi loves it and makes lots of silly grunty noises.

Rooster

Here's a few pics of me and my mate Rooster playing. Well, in truth, it isn't really playing. He just isn't in the mood for my style - which he calls "silly bl**dy puppy" - and growls at me every time I try to pull his ears. No fun. He tried to ignore me for days until I showed him my squeaky toys and discovered he is a helpless fool for them. Must be the squeak getting through his deafness.



He even breaks into a run to get them, which is hilarious on his unsteady legs. He walks like a drunk old man, each leg walking to a different rhythm and in a slightly random direction. Problem is, when motivated to run he is as quick as lightning, and once he has my squeaky ball he never ever gives it back.

You can't see in this pic but he is pulling a twitching snarl here. I'm learning to ignore everything he says.



As I mentioned before, he's staying while his family are on holiday. My parents have been borrowing him for years to play with. I expect he is surprised to find me here. Here's how he looked in his prime - the Eyebrow King.



And this is me as an 8-week old pup with their other dog, Sol. Sol is a huge, gentle lurcher whose beard I love to pull. All the time. And his ears. But especially his beard. Sol is staying with someone else but I think we'll have a puppy party when his parents get back from their trip.

towpath terrier

My usual walk up the canal towpath just gets better and better. Yes, I still park my butt and refuse to move. But now that I'm being let off the lead, the humans think it's necessary to practice recall. This means that they yell come and I turn up for treats. Naturally I park my butt a lot more now because I like treats. As long as I keep giving the impression I might just run all the way back to the road I should be able to keep those treats coming.


My friend in the photo is Rooster, a long-time friend of the family who stays whenever his family are on holiday. I've heard he used to be a whole lot of fun, but now he is old, smelly, deaf, and slow. My mum and dad adore him though, so I try not to call him smelly to his face. He deserves a post of his own which I'll write soon.

I am such a wuss when it comes to water. I don't care if Airedales are supposed to love water. I don't! I managed a silly five minutes where I almost got in the canal (and my mum nearly pushed me in for fun) then ran around like an idiot. I only stopped spronking around to run up to the partially-sighted man being led up the canal and tried to knock his walking stick out of his hands.



Tiring stuff, this.