Yesterday I went with Uncle Hugh to his friend’s house where they have lots of bushes growing grapes. There were lots and lots of people there and I got loads of attention. They all talked gobbledygook but I didn’t mind. I like French people. They’re simple folk who can’t speak properly but they’re really nice. They give me food and pet me a lot.
It was really really early when we got there - before my breakfast - and they were already drinking wine and eating. The French like eating and drinking, but there aren’t any of those binge drinkers over here – they all live in the UK.
Anyway, after breakfast they all went to the bushes that were growing the grapes and they started picking the grapes, and guess what? They didn’t eat them! They put them in baskets and then the baskets got carried away. Why bother picking them if you don’t eat them? I picked them too but I ate mine and Uncle Hugh was a bit worried, he said “your mum says that you shouldn’t eat grapes – last month she read an article that said they’re bad for dogs”.
It’s a bummer being a dog because I can’t talk back but I would have reminded him that I’ve been eating grapes since I was a small puppy and they haven’t done me any harm and that mum and he should stop taking notice of all the stuff that they put in the newspapers. I wanted to tell him that the grapes aren't anywhere near as bad for me as the Haribo Jellies that he feeds me when mum's away. I know that grapes can have a bad effect on some dogs, but not me. Just like chocolate - some dogs can eat it and some dogs can't because it would kill them. I wouldn't touch chocolate 'cause I know my body wouldn't tolerate it. Us dogs aren't stupid. Some of us know what's bad for us just by smelling it. Some don't - but then some dogs are really, REALLY thick. Like Labradors.
If you acted on everything that they put in the newspapers these days you wouldn’t eat or drink anything would you? It seems that everything can kill you these days – even tomatoes. Moderation’s the key, but a lot of humans don’t seem to realise that.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
The boys are still playing!
Me and Uncle Hugh went out for lunch today. It was great. Us dogs can go in the restaurants in France. I sat under the table and got my own bowl of water, lots of bread, a bit of cheese tart, some baby cow, a piece of pastry and a big hunk of cheese. Uncle Hugh drank lots of wine and spoke lots of gobbledygook with the nice man who was bringing the food. Then Uncle Hugh walked me home, but it took a long time because Uncle Hugh wasn’t walking straight, and he got a bit lost. Then when we finally got home Uncle Hugh fell asleep on the sofa. Uncle Hugh’s still asleep on the sofa and it’s dark, and I need a pee, and the ‘phone’s ringing and I bet it’s mum and she’ll not be happy because Uncle Hugh’s supposed to be looking after me. But I don’t mind. I’m a big boy. I can look after myself. Anyway, I fancied a night surfing the net.
It’s now 11.30 pm and Uncle Hugh is still asleep and snoring very loudly and I REALLY need a pee and mum’s finally left a message on the answer machine.
“You’re asleep aren’t you? Hugh Bastard. I bet you’ve been out drinking and eating all fooking day. If that little lad is crossing his legs ‘cause he’s dying for a pee there’ll be hell to pay. AND I MEAN HELL. Honestly, all I ask is that you act like a responsible adult from time to time…..”
I don’t mind really. It’s not that uncomfortable when I need a pee, us dogs are different from you humans. Once I held it for 36 hours because it was raining all the time. I don’t like rain - you get wet when it rains. I don't like wet. Mum tries to make me go out when it's raining, but I hide under the table and pretend that I'm scared and mum says "ah bless! He's frightened. Don't worry little lamb, I won't make you go out there if you don't want to". Mum's so gullible sometimes.
It’s now 11.30 pm and Uncle Hugh is still asleep and snoring very loudly and I REALLY need a pee and mum’s finally left a message on the answer machine.
“You’re asleep aren’t you? Hugh Bastard. I bet you’ve been out drinking and eating all fooking day. If that little lad is crossing his legs ‘cause he’s dying for a pee there’ll be hell to pay. AND I MEAN HELL. Honestly, all I ask is that you act like a responsible adult from time to time…..”
I don’t mind really. It’s not that uncomfortable when I need a pee, us dogs are different from you humans. Once I held it for 36 hours because it was raining all the time. I don’t like rain - you get wet when it rains. I don't like wet. Mum tries to make me go out when it's raining, but I hide under the table and pretend that I'm scared and mum says "ah bless! He's frightened. Don't worry little lamb, I won't make you go out there if you don't want to". Mum's so gullible sometimes.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Mum's away so the boys will play!!
It’s GREAT when mum goes back to the UK and it’s just me and Uncle Hugh. We hang out on the sofas watching daytime TV, which mum calls ‘garbage’ and Uncle Hugh gives me some of his beer and his Haribo Jellies, which are sometimes a bit sour and make my mouth water and my nose wrinkle – but I like them because I’m not supposed to have them. Uncle Hugh also eats his food in front of the TV when mum isn’t here and he throws food to me and lets me lick his plate. It’s brilliant. He’ll probably take me up in his flying car too. We do lots of things we’re not supposed to when mum’s away.
On UK TV in the daytime, there’s sometimes a man who I think is called Kylie and he talks to other men and women who usually have marks on their bodies and metal bits sticking out of parts of their faces. The other men and women sometimes shout and scream at each other – lots. Uncle Hugh calls them 'lowlife' – perhaps they live in tunnels. Sometimes these lowlife people fight. And some women cry when Kylie talks to them and sometimes Kylie gets mad. I think Kylie is a nasty man.
Also on UK TV in the daytime, there is another programme where people look for really old stuff in their cellars and their attics and sometimes the really old stuff is a bit broken but STILL they try to sell it, and do you know what? Sometimes people buy the stuff that is really old and they pay lots of plastic for it even though you can get the same things brand new in the shops. I mean, why pay heaps of plastic for an old cup and saucer, or an old plate, or an old table, when you can buy a brand new one for less? Humans intrigue me, they’re weird.
Before mum left in her flying bus she was in a tizzy again because the markets are 'fooked' (her words) again, apparently. The problems weren’t all to do with the very short people who were selling things after all. Mum’s back on Sunday and I hope she’s in a better mood than she was when she left. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum. But sometimes it’s good fun to chill out with Uncle Hugh.
Uncle Hugh has a strange ritual - about two hours before mum gets back his alarm goes on his mobile and he gets all frantic and starts clearing the surfaces in the kitchen and putting things back in cupboards. He puts all the dirty plates and stuff in the dishwasher - the ones that he's been growing mould on. Then he moves all the tissues that I've ripped up and left in my basket, then he goes round the house with a bag into which he throws all the empty beer cans, wine bottles and empty Haribo packets. Then he takes that bag, along with all the black bags that have been piling up outside the kitchen door - the ones he's placed there for the mice and the ants to play with - and he takes them to the communal bins (where me and mum normally go each day). Then he sucks the floor with the Dyson thingy. He ends up looking all flustered and red faced. Then mum gets back and touches his cheek with her lips and says "you've kept it nice".
On UK TV in the daytime, there’s sometimes a man who I think is called Kylie and he talks to other men and women who usually have marks on their bodies and metal bits sticking out of parts of their faces. The other men and women sometimes shout and scream at each other – lots. Uncle Hugh calls them 'lowlife' – perhaps they live in tunnels. Sometimes these lowlife people fight. And some women cry when Kylie talks to them and sometimes Kylie gets mad. I think Kylie is a nasty man.
Also on UK TV in the daytime, there is another programme where people look for really old stuff in their cellars and their attics and sometimes the really old stuff is a bit broken but STILL they try to sell it, and do you know what? Sometimes people buy the stuff that is really old and they pay lots of plastic for it even though you can get the same things brand new in the shops. I mean, why pay heaps of plastic for an old cup and saucer, or an old plate, or an old table, when you can buy a brand new one for less? Humans intrigue me, they’re weird.
Before mum left in her flying bus she was in a tizzy again because the markets are 'fooked' (her words) again, apparently. The problems weren’t all to do with the very short people who were selling things after all. Mum’s back on Sunday and I hope she’s in a better mood than she was when she left. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum. But sometimes it’s good fun to chill out with Uncle Hugh.
Uncle Hugh has a strange ritual - about two hours before mum gets back his alarm goes on his mobile and he gets all frantic and starts clearing the surfaces in the kitchen and putting things back in cupboards. He puts all the dirty plates and stuff in the dishwasher - the ones that he's been growing mould on. Then he moves all the tissues that I've ripped up and left in my basket, then he goes round the house with a bag into which he throws all the empty beer cans, wine bottles and empty Haribo packets. Then he takes that bag, along with all the black bags that have been piling up outside the kitchen door - the ones he's placed there for the mice and the ants to play with - and he takes them to the communal bins (where me and mum normally go each day). Then he sucks the floor with the Dyson thingy. He ends up looking all flustered and red faced. Then mum gets back and touches his cheek with her lips and says "you've kept it nice".
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