Gates and goats

It's warming up here.

I am not spending so much time at my gate.

Now with the warm weather I am going in the shade under my outside-table-den,

or sometimes I go back into kitchen and lie under my table in there. That way I can keep an eye on m&m.

Today when I was at the gate I saw them take my friends the goats away. The people behind us are goatherders, and sometimes they rear young goats in their outside space at their house.

I am a pastor, a livestock guardian, so I know that I am responsible for goats and other animals.

But the truck came for them and off they went. Mistress said they were probably going to be killed. Master agreed. So why are dogs like me supposed to look after livestock if someone else then kills them?


No, I can't smell my friends the goats anywhere. Sad Pippadog.

Noticias

We are sorry we haven't posted for a while. Mistress is still typing with one hand and she is a bit impatient. Perhaps I should learn to type with my large patitas.

Sad news
We know that many of you know that Angus died over at Flossy's World a week or so ago. Our hearts go out to Flossy and Carina, and we hope Angus is in peace.

Better news
We wrote about Charlotte in hospital last week, and she is obviously feeling better now because the little terror has come out and tagged us.

She is a beautiful rescued cross Rotty/Chihuahua from New South Wales, so if you haven't been to give her a bark, go and see her. And she has a poodle brother, a kitty, and lots of other fur and feather bros and sisses.

And, we have discovered a secret. You all know that ruffy tuffy Corgador - Wally? He went to see Charlotte's blog when she was in hospital and left some nice words. Hah! You're rumbled Wally. A little heart of gold hiding somewhere eh?

Pippa

Seven pawsomes

I've been tagged. Twice.

The worst one is to show an embarrassing or silly pic of me. Well, I only ever do curled-up-nicely and sleepy pix.

So I am going to be on a sure winner for the Booby Prize again. If I didn't love you very much Bella, preciosa, I would hate you. But I will try and find a piccy for you, but only for you, mind.

Now, I have been tagged by Charlotte to tell you seven pawsome facts about me. I think I can manage this one.

1) Me encantan los chicharros, pero ya no esta el estacion.
I love peas. But they are out of season now.

2) Por mi desayuno segundo, me encanta un bocadillo de tortilla. Pero hoy, las gallinas no ponen. Y master y mistress han comido los huevos.
I love omelette sandwich for my second breakfast. But today the chickens haven't laid any eggs. And master and mistress have eaten them all. (eggs not chickens).

3) Me gustan las fresitas. Pero, he comido todo.
I like the little strawberries. But I have eaten them all.

4) Me gusta conducir en mi Landy. Pero hoy no vamos por ningun sitio.
I like to go driving in my Landy. But today we didn't go anywhere.

5) Vive en la calle. Pero luego, encuentre a master y mistress.
I lived on the streets. But then I found master and mistress.

6) Ya tengo muchos sofas, y mi kennelflat.
Now I have lots of sofas, and my kennelflat.

7) Pero, todavia quiero quedarme seguro, en mi den, por ejemplo.
I still want to feel safe though, like when I'm in my den.

And I tag Snoop, Lily, and Ruffy. Plus Sammy from Dachsies Rule, Harley and Hagen, and Kel who doesn't do Dogs with Blogs but was the very first dogblog we read, so he is my pal.

Dogs that are tagged need to post in their Diary the rules & their 7 pawsome facts. Then choose 7 dogs to tag and list their names.

New blogdogpals

So busy writing about poorly dogs and humans, forgot to mention Snoop, Lily, and Ruffy who have not been blogging long either.

Some of our friends have got there before us, and barked ruff, but we are sure they would like to meet more of you. They live in Canada and Snoop and Lily are beautiful rescued English Springer Spaniels. Ruffy is a ruffian apparently...

We have appreciated all you dogs who have visited Pippadogblog, and it is even nicer, that you keep coming back. We guess you all know though, how much it means to get some nice barks early on.

Poorly doggies

There still seem to be some poorly doggies out there - we have just been to Charlotte's blog and she is not too good.

She and her brother Zeus have not been blogging long, so it would be good if any pals could go visit and send pawerful thoughts for her to get better.

There seem to be lots of crook (Australian for not well) humans too, but there are so many I can't even begin to mention them. But they need our pawerful dog thoughts as well.

We will write an update on me soon, but we thought this was more important for today.

Pippa

Tummytag Challenge - total failure........

Not only am I still in the doghouse - I've failed miserably on the Tummytag Challenge.

Here I am on my side. This the nearest I get to it.

One for Lorenza who tagged me first.


And one for Gomer and Opie at Dogs Aye View.


And the last one for my pal Tealeaf at Blogs From The Dogs

Booby Prize for Pippa. As I have failed in such spectacular fashion I can't really tag anyone else.

Mistress says to let you know she is still only typing with one hand, and has only put this up to stop anyone else tagging us!

In the doghouse

I think I am in the doghouse. And I don't mean my kennelflat either.

I don't think I want my photo taking either.

No, I'm hiding.

Perhaps mistress was a bit tired the other day, what with cleaning the sofa throws, and then the cushions, plus socialising. And that was my fault too - for being sick - twice.

But anyway when we went for our walk I pulled her over.

I think when I saw the cat I should maybe have told her. But I only saw it at the very last minute so I had to make a dash for it. And if I had told her she might have said no. She usually does.

Now she can only type with one hand and it is very slow. So if we don't make any comments on your blogs everydog you know why.

I am very sorry. I didn't mean to hurt mistress. And I went straight back to find her too.

Sad Pippa.

Feeling yucky

I was sick yesterday.

I am not usually poorly. So we were all surprised. I say we, I mean mistress and I because master is working on my kennelflat.

Mistress had some friends round who have just come over on holiday. I was very pleased to see them because they are super animal lovers.

They have a cat called Leonard and I am sure we would be great friends (hehe) but he was back in the UK.

We did lots of loves and kisses, and then I went to lie down in my den and next to mistress, so she could make sure I didn't feel left out.
Before that the nice woman gave me a peanut, only one, but her husband told her that they were difficult for us dogs to digest. Mistress knows that one of our friends put up a great list of ungood things to eat but she can't remember if peanuts were on there. She can't find the list either.

Much later that night after they had gone I was sick. Mistress amazingly cleaned it up and chucked the sofa throws in the washing machine.

When you are poorly you don't really feel like moving do you? So much easier to be sick exactly where you are, even if you are on your sofa. Although mistress says some of her other doggies managed to stagger to the door. Ben the black lab didn't though. Just lay exactly where he was - sensible dog. Like me.

Anyway, poor old mistress had just cleaned everything up, and I decided I would be sick again. If I hadn't been feeling poorly I would have laughed.

The down side is that I didn't get any tasties with my breakfast, it was just very plain food. Pooh.

Mistress posted a query up on the Bone Zone and says she got a nice answer from Dory and Liza. But if anyone else has any comments that would be cool. Thanks everydog.

But ok today - so far.

And finally - I've been tagged by Lorenza. I'm supposed to lie on my back with my legs in the air. But I never do that. I always curl up so that I am safe. Like this.

So mistress will have to work out how to roll me over and take a photo before I roll back again. That will keep her busy.

Prince's story

I said a while ago that I would write this - so here is the story of my best dogpal Prince.

Master and mistress think he had the hardest life of all their dogs. He was wandering on the streets like me, but he was in the north of England in winter which is a lot colder and nastier than Andalucía.

One Saturday afternoon master and mistress forgot they were in their thirties and were busy watching Top of The Pops 2 and dancing around to music from the 80s.

Bendog (the black labrador) gave his usual single bark but they ignored him.

Later on, master went out of the kitchen door into the garden and asked mistress why she had left the back gate open.

She hadn't of course. It seemed someone had come over the back wall to see what they could steal but when they heard Bendog's bark they opened the gate from the inside and did a runner. Obviously not shutting the gate 'cos that would have slowed them down.

So master decided another dog was in order. A young barky one, as Ben and Paddy were clearly more interested in sleeping than kicking up a fuss.

And next day they found Prince at one of the local rescue shelters. Mistress wrote a tiny bit about how Prince chose them in this post.

Prince had been on the street for months during November and December when it was cold and horrid. When he was picked up by the dog warden he had dysentry and was poorly. He had tablets and stuff at the rescue place but he was still very thin when master and mistress took him home. He was around three, or four, or five - no-one could say for sure.

The rescue people told master and mistress he had been thrown out because the couple he lived with had split up and neither of them wanted him. But they also said something about how it wasn't the first time he had been chucked out and rehomed. Poor Prince. I would not like it if master and mistress threw me out now I have found a fine home.

He was very good and very quiet. But he did not join in with the other two dogs. He always stayed right on the edge of the pack. At mealtimes, he watched the others sit, so then he learned to sit too but he sat in the corner on his own, and when they started to eat he did the same.

Soppy mistress burst into tears the first time she saw him eat and his stomach expanded to show all his skinny ribs. But master and mistress didn't overfeed him, they knew that he needed to be built up slowly and consistently.

Although he was the youngest dog, he never threatened Bendog - who was topdog. After a while he started to mix more and he grew stronger and his body filled out. Soppy mistress stopped crying at feeding time.

Master and mistress were not as chilled as they are now. At bedtime, the dogs had to go in the kitchen because master did not want them to go on the sofas. (haha). One day mistress went to call Prince into the kitchen and he snapped at her. Master offered to take him back to the kennels and she was horrified.

Even though Prince always regarded master as pack leader, mistress would never have seen him go back to the kennels. She thought he had suffered enough as it was. Anyway it was the only time he ever did, so he must have been having a bad fur day.

Master and mistress thought he had been hit in his previous life. He hated it if anyone brought their hand anywhere near his head or did nasty quick movements. They thought he needed lots of love for the rest of his life because he did not seem to have had a very good start. Four or five years of being chucked around, thrown out, and beaten for being a bad dog must be pretty horrid. They wanted to make him feel happy and secure in his new home.

They must have succeeded because Prince became very confident. He decided he didn't like most men, women with short hair because they looked like men, people wearing glasses and/or caps, cyclists, motorcyclists, not keen on horses or big trucks - so barked at them all.

When Bendog crossed the Rainbow Bridge, Prince naturally became topdog. He was getting on well with Paddy and they played happily and had lots of fun times running up and down the beach. They often went camping with master and mistress.

Mistress wanted to come to Spain for her 40th birthday - they had not been on holiday without the dogs since getting Prince. They did not want to take Prince to boarding kennels because they did not want him to think he was being thrown away again.

So they got some dog&house-sitters. This was a hoot. The first "experienced" couple turned up and the guy was terrified of Prince - who realised - so helpfully kept snarling at him. Despite taking their travel expenses, after a few days they wrote to say they would be unable to come.

Mistress sent a very sharp letter to the agency asking for her money back. The interview expenses were refunded and another couple was found pronto. They were both good with the dogs. Prince didn't bother snarling.

Master and mistress told the sitters they didn't need to take Prince and Paddy out because they could just play in the garden but if they did, not to let them off the lead. What did they do? Let them both off the lead together on a nice grassy open space - right by a main road. And they didn't want to come back when called. As if that wasn't stupid enough they actually told master and mistress what they had done.

Prince and Paddy both came with master and mistress on their big adventure through France, Spain and Portugal and ended up living here.

He barked at everyone. He ran up and down our terrace and barked at the gate. He jumped on the table, he nearly jumped over the wall. He had a fine time. All the neighbours called him "El malo". Paddy was "El bueno". That only leaves "El feo" so that must be master because mistress and I are not feo.

Prince was happy to be my friend but Paddy was not. But after Paddy went over the Rainbow Bridge I became a house dog with Prince and we became great pals. We would lie at our gate together and he would bark loudly. Even though I am much bigger and younger he was still topdog, just like when he joined the pack and Bendog was topdog.

He found a fine new trick. Every morning after breakfast, he would go looking for the cleanest whitest possible thing to wipe his nose on. The throws on the sofa, the clean washing, master's beige shorts (not his black ones obviously). Even if mistress called him out of the sitting room, he would laugh, wait for her to turn around, and go and wipe his nose anyway.

Last summer he had a mild stroke while he was asleep. He woke up and he struggled to walk, but after a while he was ok. Master and mistress were very worried because they did not think he was a physically strong dog. He was obviously the runt of the original litter as he was a small GSD. As he grew older his back was sensitive. He stopped jumping on tables.

But he surprised them both - whatever he lacked in physical strength he more than made up for mentally. He didn't run quite as fast to our gate, but he still went to bark at everyone and everything.

And when mistress went to the UK last year Prince knew it was the right time to cross the Rainbow Bridge. She is so soppy. Master and I sat in the patio with him one night and over he went. We stayed with him while he went right over so that he wasn't alone. He went across so peacefully and with dignity. He was around 13 or 14.

Master waited a day before he told mistress because she was visiting family and he didn't want to spoil it for her. But she didn't sleep the night he did tell her. And she still cries now. Even though Prince would do little snarls at her and furlylips. But she was never afraid of him.

Here is our very favourite picture of the three of us: me, Prince, and master (actually it is the only one - mistress had just bought the digicamera). Master is doing furlylips and furlynoses too. Nobody knows whether master or Prince started furlylips and furlynoses first. Mistress thinks it was Prince, but master copies it well now. I wish Prince was still with me at our gate though and I would have shared my blog with him too.

Noticias

1 Mosquitoes

Master jumped up like a demented idiot in the middle of the night and started hunting a mosquito with a can of spray.

Mistress jumped out of bed in an even more demented fashion to escape the smell of the odour-free spray and spent an hour looking at blogs waiting for the smell to go.

I sensibly stayed on my sofa of course.

The impact of this is that she is feeling sleepy this morning and isn't going to put up many pix. Pooh.

2 Driving in my Landy

Not driving in my Landy would be more accurate. They went out yesterday saying something about it was too hot to leave me in the coche while they were shopping so I had to stay home and entertain myself bounding on and off my sofa.

I didn't even knock the huge pile of ironing off the board.

Master is off to Gib today again to do a couple of small jobs but he is going on the bus. So no trip in my Landy there either. Sad Pippadog.

3 Mi blog en español

Mistress and I have been chatting about writing some of my blog in Spanish. As I am a Spanish dog and we live in Spain and Gibraltar we think this would be a good idea.

And master and mistress are always mixing their languages or talking Spanish when they are out. Whether anyone understands them is another matter.

Some of our dogblogpals have said it is a good idea too.

Some clever dogs do two versions of their blog, one in each language but mistress is far too idle to do that, so we will just add a few words and sentences in Spanish.

Ya está. Hasta la próxima.

I'll leave you all with this morning's pirouette while I was waiting for my omelette sandwich.

Going for a - proper - walk

No more of these silly history tours - or at least not here in the Spanish countryside.

It has suddenly warmed up here so I am not going for a long walk at lunchtime, but we had a nice amble up and down the track yesterday evening.

There is a cat at the bottom of the hill. But Misery Master is getting as bad as Misery Mistress and just as I thought we were getting nice and near (ears back, nose twitching, me not the cat), we turned round.

Well they did and I tried to continue down the hill towards the cat but it was a bit difficult. It seems even if you point your head in the direction you want to go in, your body won't follow if you are wearing a lead, and someone is pulling you the other way. Pooh.

Here I am on top of the drain. Thinking about what to do next.

And jumping off.

Anyway, I decided to walk very slowly. Very, very slowly.
I decided to have lots of sniffs and do nothing else. Well, maybe a couple of token peepees, but no more.
That would teach them for silly history tours and turning round just before the cat. It was a pretty black one too and it clearly wanted to play the Runaway Game because it shot into the hedge.

So they had to take me up the river bed. It doesn't look like a river bed because the weather is dry now and everyone can drive up and down, but in winter it is impassable.

Off we went, it was nice and shady although short of cats.

We walked further up until master got bored. So then we walked slowly back down.

I did lots more sniffs.

"That's your lot now Pippa until tomorrow morning." said Master.

Don't care, I thought. I'll just wake you up nice and early anyway.......

Going for a walk - of sorts

We went for a walk. Master and mistress wanted to go to the supermarket and mistress wanted to go to the Tourist Information Centre to get a Calendar of Events and find out what was Going On.

Silly mistress. It is perfectly clear to everydog what is going on in Gibraltar. It is full of cats who want to be my friend. I know this because they all try to play the Runaway Game and I am then meant to chase them. That is what is Going On. Or it would be if I had half a chance.

This walk turned out to be a History Tour. Just because mistress has a history degree she thinks every person and their dog is also interested in history.

Here is the American War Memorial. It commemorates the co-operation of British and American forces at Gibraltar during the First World War. It is quite pretty I think with the shiny gold, but it is a boring picture because I am not on it. The one at the top with master and I on is a much better photo of the memorial isn't it?

Mistress needs to learn this is not a history blog. It is a Pippadogblog so pictures should at the very least have me on them somewhere. So that's mistress sorted out.

Here we are on Line Wall Promenade. The statue is of a sailor and a soldier and is a memorial to the Gibraltarians who died in the First World War.

The guns are Russian and were captured by the British soldiers during the Crimean War. The British Government then presented the guns to the people of Gibraltar.

Master and I are standing outside Duke of Kent House. Mistress took this because she thinks it looks very colonial and reminds her and master of some of the old buildings they saw when they lived in Australia.

Here is the side view of the same building.

Bad mistress. How did she sneak that one in? I am not on it. Pooh.

I was very tired after this walk. I was even more tired with all the silly history lessons from Mistress.

When we got home I flopped in the hallway of our block. I thought it was a good idea to have a nap before I went up the stairs. Master didn't agree and made me get up and go inside the kennelflat for my nap. I didn't see why I couldn't nap in the hallway. There are no rules that say "Pippadog or any other dog can not sleep in the hallway."

And of course my sofa had gone the day before. Although I don't think I had the energy to bound onto it anyway.

No more sofa......or beds...or anything....

Hello everydog. Here I am back from my travels to Gibkennelflat. We had a fine time - well, I had a fine time. We all slept on the floor together - see story below. I found my friend Marmalade - The Cat With The Green Collar - again. I met lots of friendly people who said I was nice. I am not allowed to write all of this now.

Mistress needs to buy me a computer and get Internet access there or I will not be able to communicate with all my good dogpals. (Note to self - give mistress orders about this).

Anyway, I won't start from the beginning of this trip because that will be too boring.

Quick recap, master and mistress bought the flat a few weeks ago and it was full of furniture they said they didn't want. Although the sofa was OK, IMHDO. The last time master was there he sold some chairs and took a deposit on the washing machine.

Originally they had been waiting for someone to contact them about getting rid of the furniture for free or giving it to a charity but it never happened. Mistress looked up Freecycle but it doesn't seem to exist in Gib. So she decided to try advertising on the Internet.

They advertised the double and the single bed, and the sofa bed as free to collect. They figured it was second hand and although it wasn't bad it wasn't new. And, apparently, master and mistress are not good at furniture removals together.

She would have had to find the council office and ask for the stuff to be picked up. Then, they would have had to take the furniture down one flight of stairs. Master would have barked out the orders, expecting mistress to be telepathic, she would have not understood and started laughing, he would have got very cross, she would have laughed even more, and they would narrowly have avoided heavy furniture on toes.

So master was pleased when someone rang to pick up the beds. The guy who wanted the washing machine was coming back too. Then someone rang about the sofa bed. All the large bits of furniture that they didn't want.

That's why we went down this weekend. The guy didn't ring about the washing machine. But the next day the man rang about the beds, and came to see them. When he came into the flat he said to master:

"But you are not racist."

"No," said master, puzzled. (Or at least tries not to be racist, - frequently puzzled though).

"Many people put the telephone down when they hear my voice," said Imran, who comes from Pakistan.

I did not understand this. Mistress tried to explain that some people lack respect for other people, because they come from a different country, or speak a different language, or have a different skin colour, or a different (if any) religion. Well, everydog, I had a headache, I have to say.

And then I got it. It's like me being a dog who comes from the street, isn't it? Even though I might have come from a good place before, and I might have a good pedigree, who knows? And I am a nice dog inside, so does it matter? But people think I am rubbish and no-one wants to know me. Or that there are better dogs out there. Or their fur is a nicer colour. I think that's more or less what mistress meant anyway.

These people turned up and took away all the beds, and some tacky cupboards too. Master was very pleased. They wanted the microwave and he sold it for £10. They told master he could eat at their restaurant or have a take-away.

Master thought a take-away was much more sensible as no-one wanted to leave me in a strange new flat. He said not to send too much. Mistress said, just send whatever you want, it doesn't matter what it is, it will be fine.

By this time it was late afternoon and the sofa-bed woman had not rung. Master told them to take that too if they wanted. So they did. Nobody asked me. Where was I supposed to lie, and play boundupanddown? or boundonandoff?

Pooh. Pippa on the floor.


Pippa on a grotty dustsheet - no compensation for my sofa-bed. Sulk.


Master and mistress were prepared because they had their ThermARest camping mattresses and sleeping bags. No beds, no sofa beds. Everyone on the floor.

Master and mistress had almost given up Imran and his uncle Mohamed for lost - but then they rang at nearly 10pm and asked how m&m wanted their curry cooked. They had been very busy in the restaurant. Mohamed brought the meal a few minutes later. Here is master and Mohamed and me.


The curry was very very yummy. There was enough left for breakfast too for all of us. Yummier. There was even a little bit of rice left for a separate supper meal that mistress made. Three scrummy meals.

Mistress - who clearly wants to be in charge of my blog, when her role should be purely administrative - says this is an important post. A statement or something. Another headache coming on I think.

I want to write about Marmalade, and my other "catpals" - hehe.

But no, she wants to say she thinks recycling things you don't want is better than throwing them out. If you can help someone starting out, that's very good. Whoever they are. If you get a delicious curry as a favour that is even better. They must be kind people. I must say I liked the curry for my breakfast too. Mmmmmm.

Back to travel stories tomorrow, mistress says this is too long a post already. Missed you all, catch you later, and something about mi blog en español tambien. Pipps. Hasta la proxima.

Sausages and tomatoes

Mmmmmm Sosleboslers - ok I mean sausages - and toms for second breakfast today.

Hurry up master give it to me.


Put the camera down mistress and give me sausages. Now.


At last, yum yum yum yum.


And here's a pirouette in case there's any more to come.


Note from mistress. He was sitting as good as gold and then upped to do a pirouette. Normally I end up with a totally empty shot or just a flash of tail. He moves so fast this is as good as it will ever get!

Chilled-out Pippadog

Here we all are happily outside on my terrace. (I say we, mistress is behind the camera obviously).


What are you doing master? Have you got food there?


Mistress has finished her papers (for now....).

She's even found the missing posts.

And master is chilling with me. Shaking paws.


Just stroke my face a bit more master.....


Heigh ho. I have a hard life.