Monday, 15 November 2010

Squeaky Balls are NOT Edible.

Well, that depends on how you look at it. If it goes in and comes out without the aid of a vet and surgical equipment. I'd like to say I'd learned my lesson the first time I ate a soft squeaky ball. When I was whisked off immediately to the vets to have it surgically removed as it was going to cause a blockage. But five years later, I couldn't resist a squeaky ball being thrown for a much smaller dog.

My excitement to hear that lovely squeak in my mouth caused me to drool so much it just kinda slipped down my throat. I was as surprised as anyone else to be honest with you and spent a little time sniffing the ground to see where it had gone. But no. It was in my big tummy.

So off I went to the vets again. Mum was telling everyone how I swallowed a ball. Oh the shame! The vet gave me an injection to make me sick. Except it didn't. So they gave me another one.

I was blissfully unaware of their motives and rolled over for tummy rubs until I felt bilious. But no ball appeared. After an hour of retching, they sent me home feeling drowsy from the drugs with the ball still inside.

By the next day I felt much better, but still had mum following my every move. Scrutinising poos (is there no dignity for a dog?) and jumping up at the slightest burp.

But nothing appeared.

So life carried on pretty much the same, walks, dinners, poos, wees. Everything was normal. Mum even wondered if I'd eaten the ball at all. We also had regular phone calls from the vets to see if anything was happening. Anyone would've thought that I was about to give birth by all the fuss everyone was making.

Ten days later, however. I woke up feeling nauseous. Mum was cuddling with me on the floor and I suddenly made a face. She was wise enough to move swiftly out of the way before I trotted off to the hallway and coughed up a very squashed up ball, minus the squeaker.

Everyone was ecstatic. 'It's a little brown one!' they cooed!

Three days later, the squeaker appeared via the back end.

Even then I still didn't learn my lesson. I stole another squeaky ball from another small dog when mum's back was turned. And I enjoyed a long game of Hoomans Chase the Dog around the park until I was grabbed by my doggy friend's hooman and mum retrieved a very squashed and drooly ball, which was a whisker away from slipping down my throat.

In the words of my first vet 'Labradors should come with zips on the their stomachs'.

Saturday, 3 July 2010

I am one HOT dog!

It's been a while since I posted on here. But I've been a very busy dog keeping the pack organised. I've been making sure they don't get lost, that they feed me on time as well as telling them who's walking past our house. Oh yes, and keeping the neighbourhood cats out of my garden.

But my excuse for being lazy this week has been the heat. Phew it's been hot. We're not used to it in the UK, especially wearing a fur coat as us dogs do. I feel like I could do with being shaved. The hoomans have been putting what they call ice-cubes in my bowl. Yes, they're nice and cold. But it's still just water and doesn't taste of anything nommy.

Can't they freeze bits of chicken for me? Perhaps I'll teach myself to open the fridge and suck on that whole chicken I've had my eye on.

Perhaps mum will take me to the beach to cool off in the sea xx

Friday, 2 April 2010

Mum's Animal Portraits.

Mum is a pet portrait artist and she took the children to Wildwood Animal Park in Kent last weekend, which is famous locally for its pack of wolves. It inspired her to find a lovely photo of two wolves on the web (her own photos didn't come out so well) and draw them in pastel. Here's the link to the original photo...

Melissa Crow used both pastel sticks and pastel pencils. She said, 'It's not perfect, but I'm getting better and what could be a better subject to practice animals on than these beautiful wolves.'
Here's a link to mum's website where you can see more of her work and pet portrait commissions.

For anyone interested in Wildwood Animal Park, here's a link to their website....

Friday, 26 March 2010

Selective Hearing

Everyone knows that a dog's hearing is highly developed. But did humans know we can switch it off whenever we like? It's not commonly known, but extensive research has been done in most of our very own homes.

For example, when I'm out in the garden, doing my ablutions or having a sniff of the territory or smelling the air for neighbourhood cats, mum will call me to come in for whatever reason only known to herself. Our hearing is almost like a computer and we can switch off certain types of words, like our name, come, stop, sit, stay, leave it and so on. But we are cleverly able to keep in tune with certain words of our choice, such as carrots, biscuits, din-dins, park, walkies etc.

So the one-sided conversation will go like this:

Mum (friendly voice): George! Come on, I need to go out.
George hears: Jooooorg! mumble, mumble mumble.
Mum: (higher pitched): George! COME on!
George hears: Jooooooorg! MUMble.
Mum (not as friendly): NOW!
George hears: AAH!
Mum (whispers): carrot.
George hears: CARROT!!!!!!! clear as a bell.
*drops the stick he was chewing and runs straight in, licking lips*

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

The Park

The park is a wonderful place to be if your're a dog and we're especially lucky in the UK to be able to run free off lead in most of them. But there are certain rules when meeting another dog. I'm quite a polite boy and I tend to trot up to another dog head low to the ground, making myself smaller if I sense they're the older dog, or just more dominant. We simultaneously wag tails (if it's a friendly greeting) and sniff each others butts while moving around in a circle.

However, for some reason, dogs have taken a particular interest in my 'bits' of late. I can't work out why. Is it the spring? Either way, I try to ignore it and just get on with sniffing the grass or playing with my ball. But some dogs, just don't give up. I think they're young pups usually, perhaps they want a sniff of an older dog. Mum and I usually look at each other with bewilderment.

The one-year-old chocolate Labrador, pictured, also had a good lick of the inside of my leg, and was lucky that I was taking a breather, otherwise he could've ended up being growled at.
I'm not as sociable as I used to be. When I was a young pup I would run up to any dog, ears flapping ready to play boisterously and may be try to kiss their owners' faces too. I've calmed down now (well, I am seven human years old, so it's about time) and I choose my playmates wisely.

I am more interested in a good sniff. I like to know who's been around and what they've eaten recently. I also have my favourite bushes and see what kinds of things humans have been dumping, and no, that's not just food. BOL! (Bark out loud).

Thursday, 18 March 2010

Welcome to my Blog

I'm not sure what I'm doing really, but I am a Labrador, so anything beyond eating, sleeping and running about, I'm a bit thrown. My hooman mum, or hu-mum, helps me write and she thought it would be a good idea to write a blog about being a dog, especially one who enjoys life as much as I do. I have so much excitement for life and new people, mum says I go deaf because I can't seem to hear my hoomans call my name or words like 'leave it', 'sit' or 'come'.
I love people, especially ones who tickle my tummy and just behind the ears. I quite like my chin tickled too.
But my real love I've started to drool just thinking about it. Nom nom nom. *goes off to the kitchen to see if any food has magically appeared in his bowl*