Of rain and baths

It rained today again. It has rained a couple of times recently, but not for long and usually at night.

Mistress made a fine omelette today with broad beans and stuff - but there are no pix to share with my dog pals because she split it when she was turning it over. Hehehe.

"Shall I just use one egg?" she called to master.

"No," he said. "Pippa gets at least half of mine." Of course. And half of hers too if I get a chance.

Then I had a quick run outside and lay down at my gate, but it was a bit damp, so I ran back in and jumped on my sofa to dry off.

Anyway she's been working on my web site. Thanks for the comments pals. Even mistress got sick of prevaricating over the name so she has registered as Pippa. For now. If I have anything to do with it, she won't be changing it either.

In the morning she gets up and reads the comments on my blog over a coffee, and has a look at my friends' dogblogs. Then she might do a little bit of (x)html or css or Java script practice - I'm sure lots of you out there know what she's on about. I am picking it up too as we go along.

But then master and I get fed up so we start to shout and bark for our omelette.

Then after my second breakfast (with a bit for them), she normally goes back to the computer for more work, but she gets bored easily so today she ran a bath and dived in there with an internet magazine.

She knew she could get away with a long soak today because master had gone out on the bicycle hunter-gathering for us all and he was going to be out for an hour or more.

In fact, she was still in the bath when he came back. She must know how to write 20 web-sites by now.

They get in the bath a lot. I don't get in the bath. Ohhh no. I have read on other dogblogs that they get forced to have a bath or a shower, and they don't like it. So I'm NOT going to do it.

One day master and mistress were in there (it's a very big bath), and she called me into the bathroom.

"Come along, Pippa darling," she said. So I walked in, suspiciously, saw A LOT of water in a huge bath, and thought they might want me to jump in too.

I didn't hang around in there as you can imagine.

Now, I'm happy to jump on sofas, and into my Land Rover, and I might consider going on their bed if I ever got chance. But something full of water? Nooooooo, thank you.

Relaxing

We had a hard day at the shops yesterday so I had to flop on my terrace afterwards.

First we went to one supermarket for some salad in a bag that mistress can't get anywhere else.

Then master went to the bottled gas shop, (to get gas for our water heater), but there was no parking.

Mistress said: "Why are you trying to park here, I thought we were going to the petrol station where they sell gas?"

I have to say mistress is often a bit slow off the mark, but I thought this was a very sensible comment. There are not too many dogs or cats in the town centre by the gas shop, so it is not very interesting.

Off we went to the petrol station which master nearly missed. It was only when mistress pointed her finger at it (having checked the road was clear natch) that he pulled over.

I quite like the gas station. The guy who works there thinks I am a lion. Last time master filled up he said I was far too big to be a dog. Heheheh. Master told him how nice I was but he didn't come to be friends.

Yesterday I jumped into the front seat to smile at him and he smiled back - from about 20 yards away on the other side of the forecourt. He must still think I am a lion.

Then it was off to Eroski. Master went to do the boring old shopping and mistress and I chatted together. I sat in the front again with her. Sometimes she reads a magazine, and sometimes we just sit happily. Or she takes some photos of me in my Land Rover. Mistress does not like shopping, but she likes to sit with me.

Then we drove off to another shop. Well, master did, obviously the rest of us don't bother with that sort of thing. We are along for the ride.

He always spends a lot of time chatting with the women in the vegetable shops because they think he is quite good-looking. Mistress thinks they need glasses. Anyway it's good for his Spanish, it's a bit like mistress watching Spanish soap operas I suppose.

None of it really matters to me. I play at jumping backwards and forwards over the seats when we are parked, and there are so many windows in my Land Rover that I have to keep looking out of all of them, and moving around so I don't miss any marauders.

So, as you can see, that's why I needed a bit of a rest on my terrace.



And today, the toerags went down the beach without me. There are often lots of stray dogs around, or people on holiday in caravans, and I don't like other dogs coming up to harass me. So I had another snooze. They weren't long and then mistress came back to play on the computer.

She is working out her own web-site, but they can't decide what to register it as, or even what to call it. How silly. I would call it Pippa, or something with Pippa and dog in the name. I have a blog, why can't I have a website too? Other dogs have websites. And they are interesting. Like dogblogs. I really think mistress should call it Pippaswebsite.

What do you think everydog? Ruff ruff, from Pipps.

Friends again

I have forgiven mistress.

1) She has agreed to write another post today. Here it is, even though it is mostly photos. But at least I am not asleep on the sofa.

2) We had buttered toast for my second breakfast.



3) We went driving in my Land Rover.


I am a happy Pippadog again.

Losing my grip

What do you reckon? Another day without a post.

It's not good enough is it? Mistress started off with the best of intentions and worked hard for the first week, but I expected her to continue like that.

Not just putting a post up when she feels like it. And yesterday she was reading a person's blog all night. Not even a dog blog.

I want some different photos too. Everydog will think I never get off the sofa.

And while we are on the subject of the sofa, I need to be clear about that too. It is MINE. It might not have been mine before, but now it is.

I don't know what master is doing getting in my face like that. I would have got off the sofa but I couldn't be bothered.

Anyway I've heard rumours that we might be off driving this morning in my Land Rover. So that will be good.

Mistress goes off on her travels...

....And my blog does not get done for days. Pooooh. I am a sad Pippadog.

First she spends days faffing around preparing, then she's gone.

She's back now. I didn't hassle her last night 'cos she walked in, ate some food and fell into bed.

So I thought I better give her a barking-off this morning. Not much, I am a nice dog. But it's important we all know who is in charge here. And it is ME.

After all, I have responsibilities. From dog on the streets to dog with a blog. I have nice doggie friends who look at my blog, share my omelettes and leave nice ruff ruff comments.

I do hope that mistress isn't being naughty and peevish because I am getting more visitors than her and friendly ruff ruffs.

After all, who would be interested in a human blog? Full of boring stuff about what they do, travels, living abroad and tosh like that. Does she write about sleeping, breakfast-time or chasing cats?

Anyway I have pointed out that if she doesn't have much time to write, she could at least post some cute pictures of me. I always look cute. Even though I am big I am cute. Aren't I?

Note to self: do not let mistress post boring travel pics on my blog.

My story (2)

Remember in My story (1) I had spotted a nice pack? - two dogs and two people - and wondered if they might want a large puppy.

I didn't see them again, but a few days later, I had gone round the village looking for more food, and in the end I had just flopped down in a quiet spot away from everyone. I was sick of people shouting at me, or dogs wanting a fight for the decent food, or horrid children throwing things or teasing me.

The man came up to me. He had some biscuits too. He spoke very nicely to me, so I followed him. Right home into their safe and sheltered patio.

Apparently they'd had A Conversation.

"Well, if I see that dog again, I'll have to take him in. He's been on the streets too long and he's lucky to have lasted this long," said the man.

"No-one else has taken him, he obviously isn't lost, and I don't want to see him run over on the side of the road," he added.

"It's up to you, darling," said the woman, or whatever they say when they know they are getting their own way.

Then later she told him she'd seen me trudging down the street into the village, and said he should look for me.

"You know where he goes, just go and find him," she said. And he did.

So once I was in their small patio - I think they could do with a bigger one actually - my new mistress brought me some food and some fresh water.

Over the weeks mistress was very kind and nursed all my wounds. She is normally very squeamish and wouldn't dream of doing it for master.

But she bathed my ear regularly with warm water and gentle antiseptic, and washed off all the nasty bits. She did the same for all my scabs and sores and wounds.

At one point she began to think that I really did have pink fur round my neck, because it wouldn't clean up, but eventually it started to fall out, and fresh new clean fur grew back.

Even my ear stopped flopping down as it gradually healed over the months.

I got fed regularly every day. I had lots of fresh water, and I was taken out for walks. They bought me a nice blue collar. And a nice blue lead too, which was ace to chew. They don't use it any more.

It's that time of year

Bichos. Garrapatas. Sheep or goat ticks whatever you call them.

I don't like them in my fur. And I don't like it at all when they get hooked in, and master pulls them off.

Mistress usually screams. Wimp. And calls for master.

Normally I don't get them because master and mistress give me drops every couple of months.

But at the moment when we walk up the track, there are lots of goats and sheep. There are also lots of horses and donkeys round here too.

So when we get home master looks at me very carefully and checks me with his hands too in case any of them have jumped on me when they have been hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to go past.

There are more of them at this time of year because of the change in the weather. It is too cold in winter for them and too hot in summer.

It's a good thing I have lots of pale fur, because they stand out. They look like little dark spiders although they only have six legs. And because master and mistress always look for them, they don't get chance to stay long.

I have tablets too. There is nothing wrong with me, but there are also lots of fleas around here in the countryside with all the animals and especially the feral cats.

Mistress isn't keen on dosing me up to the eyeballs with stuff, but we all think it is better than me carrying a load of hangers-on.

Especially when I sleep on the sofa.

It's mine

This is today's omelette for all my new friends to share. Mistress only had one egg for three of us so she put in some curried rice with peas, and artichokes. Yum.


"Give it to me"


"That last bit is mine. Now"

My story (1)

I watched them come up the hillside. There were four of them.

They seemed very happy and the two people were laughing and chattering. The dogs had big grins on their faces.

I started walking towards them but the woman with the black dog stopped. The man with the German Shepherd said: "Don't worry, he's not going to come near."

And they continued up the hillside right to the top by the bull. When they came down, I started to follow them, but I kept my distance.

They looked a happy pack. I thought they might like another member. I had been on the streets for months and it was cold and wet in winter.

I had to fight all the other street dogs for food. My ear was hanging off, my coat was matted and huge clumps of fur were missing. I had lots of scabs and sores. The fur all round my throat was pink from blood during some of the fights.

The village dogs didn't want me in their packs because I was too big. No-one wanted me because I was too big.

They went happily over the stream but before I could follow them into the village the goatherder came down the bed of the stream with his goats and sheep. I ran away again because he often threw stones at me.

A couple of days later I was starving. I thought I would see if I could find any food in the village. And I met them again, but without the two dogs.

I followed them cautiously down the street and then the woman stopped and spoke nicely to me. I went to sniff her and she smelt warm and friendly, and of the other dogs. The man came near, but I backed off because men often hit me.

"This must be the dog that Barbara told us about," said the woman. "You know, the one she said looked like a big Alsatian."

"That was back in October," said the man. (It was January now.)

"Yes, that's right, but don't you think he looks like he has been on the streets since then?" she added.

"We really can't have another dog," he said in a not-very-convinced voice.

And then a horrid big truck came past and I cowered into the fence. The woman was very upset and tried to comfort me, and then they left. So I followed them down the street, and out onto the old railway line.

It was nice and quiet, so I thought I would keep following them and then perhaps they would go home and take me with them. But then a strange man came up waving his arms around and shouting loudly so I got frightened and ran away.

Breakfast

Breakfast time is one of my fave times of the day.

When we get back in from our walk, master makes a coffee and sometimes we sit together on my sofa.

Master looks at the internet for a while and I wait patiently. If he takes too long though, I give him a few gentle nudges.

Then we go into the kitchen and master gets my tin and fills it full of biscuits. The most exciting bit comes next when he adds some tasties. Normally mistress always makes sure when she cooks food for them there is something left for me, like lots of peas. Yummy.

This is such a wonderful moment in the day so I jump round the kitchen in circles barking loudly. I think the whole village should know that I am just about to eat my scranny breakfast.

And it doesn't end there, because when master and mistress have something to eat, I get more. Sometimes they eat breakfast at different times so I get three breakfasts altogther. Bliss.

But today they ate at the same time which is a bit more difficult as I have to sit looking at one beseechingly and then do a quick turn round and roll my big eyes at the other one.

They went out of the way to be difficult today as master took his omelette sandwich onto the terrace while mistress ate her omelette on a plate in the kitchen. I spent more time running between the two of them than eating omelette.