Don’t touch the grumpy dog!

We were delighted to meet the Mastiffs, crazy Daisy and bonkers Lulu while on holiday in South Africa. Mastiffs are similar to Boxers. Boxers were originally bred from the German Mastiff breed. These perfectly placid dogs belonged to the Resort and were equally at home in the dining room, in reception or sitting on my foot at tea. Honestly, I loved it. I missed the Boxers terribly and enjoyed a bit of doggy company. A third dog, an old black Labrador, was less engaging, a bit grumpy with a bad reputation. We understand that she has a cyst or a tumour in her mouth, so that’s understandable. She stayed in a sunny spot on the lawn, watching the comings and goings, from underneath a sign warning ‘Don’t touch the grumpy dog’!

Daisy and Lulu, however, were very keen on the short walks up the mountains, especially going to waterfalls and pools; standing in the water, gulping in the fresh, cool stuff. When she had had enough, Daisy’s bark signalled that we were to move on. They could follow the scent of the baboons, bounding up and down the hillside, barking excitedly, barging past us on the narrow path. Watch out, dog coming through! It wasn’t difficult to see the evidence of baboons. They are pretty indiscriminate about where they leave their deposits.

One evening, after dinner, we were enjoying a quiet time in the lounge, strictly ‘no children or dogs’. Lulu, in true Boxer style, sloped into the room and gently sat on my foot. Another time, the ‘grumpy dog’ was lying next to me in the quiet lounge, but I didn’t touch her.

Back home in Surrey, the Boxers were enjoying the hospitality of the boarding kennels and the company of the dog walker. They were absolutely fine when we collected them on Sunday. What a relief to have found an excellent dog care solution so that we can enjoy our holidays again.

The only downside is that the burglary rate has increased in the Village again. Two more properties were broken into while we were away. It does make us rather nervous. At least, having the dogs around provides an early warning system for intruders.

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Where does the time go?

Strawberry plant coming back to life,
April 2012, Lesley Beeton

I have asked myself this question twice today. Once, because I meant to reply to an email last week and completely forgot, and secondly because I'm putting the finishing touches to the month end, quarter end and year end accounts. Ouch! Not my favourite time of year, hence I'm distracting myself with all sorts of things I shouldn't. I'm designing our new bathroom. I have chosen the furniture design and tiles and marked out the bathroom with masking tape. Don't stand on the tape when you go to the loo! I've also bought my birthday present. I shouldn't have really. My husband did want to buy it for me, but I was in the right place at the right time, and I've got what I want. Now I have to put it away for three weeks. I've also been blogging and gardening.

The 'boys' have kept me pretty busy too. The recent fine weather brought out a few loonies to the Woods. One lot even offered us a bit of German sausage! We declined. There has been an increase in the number of poo(h) sticks. I know, Pooh sticks is a game played by honey bears and donkeys and piglets in the woods. I mean of course, poo bags on sticks in the woods. But I am easily amused. I'm told that it will all degrade over time, but why can't people just clear up after their dogs?

Occasionally, my lovely Boxers will be disgusting dogs; like the time the big big dog pee'd on my leg in his excitement at going on a new walk. But yesterday, was really awful. They had been on a lovely run across the farm, and had a drink from the bird bath, then decided to run at full speed, which prompted a vomit - into my slipper, when I was wearing it! I screamed so loudly my husband rushed over thinking I had broken my leg! I don't do vomit, or dead mice but that's another story.

When I was growing up in South Africa we had a splendid tortoise as a pet. Meat Pie was his name. He was fond on tomatoes. And he would come when called. I recall my Dad doing mouth to mouth on him after he fell in the swimming pool. We then dried him out in a low temperature oven. He came round with a cough and a splutter and is still going strong in a reptile park near Johannesburg. We think he is close to one hundred years old. *The action shot below is a fun 'on dog' demonstration of 'hardandfast' the British Heart Foundation promotion for hands-only CPR. Check out the Defibrillator Club here.

Hands-only CPR demonstration, for fun only!

The neighbour and I saw off a strange fellow asking for scrap metal. The 'boys' were pretty vocal too. The Village suffers from opportunistic burglaries. Many of us met up on Friday night to chew over the village issues. It was a fun evening in the Pub. I don't think anything was decided but it feels like everyone wants to do something. One of the village matriarchs was propping up a bar stool . I had never met her before. She is a bit fierce, but mostly friendly, I think.

On the dog walker training, we have made some progress. It's amazing what a bit of steak can do for Boxer motivation. We will know tomorrow if we have been successful; when the dog walker turns up I expect two Boxer dogs to jump in the back of the van. Only a few weeks to go now before they go to Kennels.

Gosh, well that is a lot of news, look at the time! Don't forget to read Jill Spain's guest post before you go.

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On banking, mice and lovely shoes

I feel grubby today. The day started normally enough - kicked husband out of bed to run the Boxers, then off for a swim, then a dash into town to catch up with the bank manager. He asked to see me. I think he wants to sell me something. He's a nice enough chap, just not very convincing. Perhaps it's because banking is so regulated now. You must have a stocks and shares ISA. OK, then tell me what you've got. I can't. I'm not regulated. Stare at sad man. I give you permission to tell me about the ISAs. I will try to send you a brochure. Then another sad man will want to meet you and ask you lots of pointless questions, after which I will probably say No anyway, because the initial charge is too high. He stares at me. Am I using all the benefits I pay for? Yes. Clearly, he is regulated to sell me insurance. And isn't this the problem with high street banks? Just stick to doing what you do best. Keep my money nice and secure for me until I need it to buy a nice pair of shoes. Don't be my stock broker and don't sell me insurance. I use specialist advisers for both of these. End of conversation. There was more to say but it is so boring, the Boxers fell asleep while I was recounting my story to them. 

Purple Fitflops, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

The Boxers did however like my new shoes. So obviously an impulse buy, my credit card didn't have time to protest.


Now, back to the garden. What gorgeous weather we are having this week. Everything is germinating in the greenhouse, everything needs watering. I'm watering from the water butts, but if we don't get rain to fill them up again can I fill them from the tap??!! Water rant.


The mice are enjoying the spread too. They've had quite a few of the broad bean seedlings, dug up nearly all the sweet corn, and nibbled on the courgette seeds. At this point it is me 4 mice 0. The war goes on...


The dog walker training goes on too. The Boxers are happily walking with her once a week in preparation for when they are in the boarding kennels. If only we could get them to jump in her van. Next time, we are going to sit in the van with a cup of tea and hope that the boys will want to join us.


And just because I can, this is the view from my office today. 

Sunny Surrey, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Look out for a guest post coming soon from Christmas Pie Crafts.


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