I may be gone some time........

Well it’s ‘au revoir’ folks for a while. My mum explains it all on her blog here Henry the Dog's Mum. I think things aren’t going too well for her and UHugh, but they could be much worse. I’m going into the kennels whilst she goes over to the UK, but even when I get back I may not be able to blog for a while.

In the meantime, I want to thank Dumdad from The Other Side of Paris for two more awards.

As you know, I don’t normally pass awards on, but this time I’m going to make an exception. I’m going to pass them both on and bugger the rules that are attached to each award. It won't hurt for once to break them.

All my human bloggers have got cupboards full of trophies, and all well deserved, so you don’t need any.

So, I’m going to pass these awards on to all my doggy pals – and if I forget any of you, pop along and pick them up anyway

The first one is the Premio Dardos Award. Premio Dardos apparently means “prize darts” in Spanish. It is given for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values transmitted in the form of creative and original writing. That can't be me - it sounds much too grand, but hey, what the hell. I AM grand. And so are my doggy pals.

The second award is this one.


The premise of this award is blogs that one couldn't miss each morning.

So they BOTH go to:

Life of Stubby Stubby’s a real ‘eco warrior’ and very good pal.

Clive who is a true hero, a working dog who brings a ray of sunshine into the life of ‘Little Man’

Frankly Speaking – my friend Frankie Furter – a little Daschund who does stuff for charity and makes me feel humble.

Minnie-Moo – the rescue lab, who’s simply great fun and quite a babe.

Detroit Dog – because they do good things for dogs and it was one of the first blogs I started to follow

Ruby Isabella Jones – I love her philosophy, and she’s also a babe.

Scruff the Wonder Dog – a new find, and mum thinks he’s cute.

Baby Vodka – mum says he’s the cutest mini schnauzer she’s seen (other than me of course)

Finding Sirius – a lovely blog about a rescue dog & other rescue dogs & worthy causes – you must pop over there and have a look. The photographs and stories are enchanting.

NONE OF YOU HAS TO PASS THE AWARDS ON. They’re simply for you to keep in your trophy cupboard.

Ok, so I’ll be off.

Au revoir & HOPE to see you again one day soon.

(I'll be lurking)

Life in the year 3000

Mum and Uncle Hugh were talking about some strange stuff last night whilst they were drinking their grape juice at the bar. It’s not really a bar. They call it ‘the bar’ it’s just a wooden sideboard thingumajig that they put their drinks on whilst they stand chatting. I think it represents a pub they used to go to in the UK on a Friday night and ‘prop the bar up’ as Uncle Hugh used to put it. They don’t have pubs in France. Not in these parts.
Anyway…I’m digressing.

So, as I was saying, they were talking about strange stuff. They were talking about what life might be like in the year 3000. It made my doggy brain a bit dizzy thinking about it, because we’re only in 2009, right? So 3000 seems like a long way away. Considering I can only count up to 10. I wonder if we’ll still be living in France? I mean, I’ve only been alive for (nearly) four years and I’ve already lived in three countries, so I doubt it somehow knowing my mum. I reckon by the year 3000 we might have lived in quite a few more places.
Anyway….I’m digressing again.

They were talking about stuff like time travel, and whether or not it will be possible in 3000. They were talking about virtual reality and how people wouldn’t go on real holidays because there wouldn’t be any point when all they’d have to do is log into the latest ‘Holiday’ software programme. They were talking about cities being built inside pods. They were talking about humans being microchipped at birth. What’s new about that? I was microchipped not long after I was born. That’s hardly rocket science n’est-ce pas?

I started wondering about what life will be like for a dog in 3000. Maybe we’ll have flying beds. I could sit in my bed and press a button and it could fly from the kitchen to the lounge and back again. That’d be fun. Maybe they’ll invent special toys that never wear out and would morph into something different whenever I get bored with them. Or maybe we’ll be taken on virtual walks and play with virtual toys. That wouldn’t be much fun, but young dogs wouldn’t know any different would they? Not if they were born in those days.

What do you think life will be like in the year 3000?

As long as I’m not expected to eat virtual food, I think I’ll cope.

Mum found me cuddled up on the sofa yesterday:

I asked her to tickle my tum:

Then I had a stretch:

A grand day out

It was Mother’s Day yesterday in the UK so I decided to celebrate it here in France too and took mum out for a picnic.

Ok…ok…it wasn’t MY decision. Not exactly. It was Uncle Hugh’s – but I had been transmitting thought-waves his way. I’d been thinking really hard, “Take mum out somewhere nice” because they’d not done anything together for a while and mum seemed a bit maudlin.

Anyway, I knew something was going on because mum was packing plates and knives & forks and stuff and so I got all giddy because I reckoned it was going to be a PICNIC and when there’s a PICNIC mum sometimes stops being strict and she lets Uncle Hugh give me titbits. So I ran round and round in a hyper way, and mum called me “Crazy Dog” and blamed it on the Haribo Jellies that Uncle Hugh had given me the night before.

Then we all piled into the car and I was a bit miffed ‘cause when Uncle Hugh is in the car with mum, I’m relegated to the back seat. I don’t like the back seat ‘cause once mum had to brake really quickly for a bad French motorist and I flew off the seat and shot under the passenger seat and bumped my head. Now mum always puts my bed on the back seat (for “padding”) and makes Uncle Hugh put his passenger seat right back, so I can’t slip under it, then she puts a pillow in the space between the drivers seat and the back seat. Bloody palaver. If she’d just buy one of those posh doggy safety seats, it’d do the trick. But mum’s skint at the moment. But she wasn’t once…..I’m digressing.

Then we set off.

We ended up in this lovely place, where we went for a long walk by the side of a canal, and there were loads of new smells. I get excited about new places because there’s always new stuff to sniff.

Then we had to find mum somewhere to pee. She found a big bush.

Then we found this picnic spot and there was a boat called Henri. Honest. We all laughed. Here it is:

It was a great picnic. I found some really old bread and meat that had been left by another picnic, some time ago judging by the smell of the meat – mum said “DROP!” in her Alpha Bitch voice. I swallowed.

There were some ducks too, but they were scolding me in a very strange language, and it wasn’t French, they were going “NYAKNYAKNYAKNYAKNYAK”. Naughty little buggers. I would have given them the finger if I had one.

On the way back mum got a bit lost but she's glad she did because she found a lovely little village, where we had a stroll. It was great. There were tons of dog poo on the pavements. Mum stood in some and said "Shit!". Quite appropriate n'est-ce pas?

Here's that lovely little village with the poo:

Here’s a butt shot for my lady fans – I’m not keen on water – I was a tad wary.

Here’s me waiting for titbits.


Here’s another gratuitous butt shot.

Yep, it was a grand day out