I know, no blog last week, I am ever so sorry!
Had so much celebrating to do, what with my VICTORY for all us dogs nationwide and common sense with regards to insurance and “tagging”..... Isn’t great to be on the winning side?
I must give His lordship a big thank you for badgering the Rt Honourable Mister on behalf of yours truly; it’s nice to have friends in high places. Please note there was no payment of any kind, at any time made to the said Rt Honourable in return for his lobbing the incumbent that may or may not have taken place. However I have it on good authority that failure to comply would have resulted in a long walk to and from the train station. No pressure there then! “Power to the masses, my fellow beings.... We won”!
Well it’s here Officially, Spring that is! The birds are building their nest in the tree at the top end of the garden, just by the compost heap and soon we shall have little baby pigeons calling out to their mummy and daddy to feed them, time after time.... I do heat the buggers, if only I could get hold of them... calm down Salvador, it only nature and soon they will be big enough to leave the nest. At this point they tend to land in my garden, but not for long as I am ready for the little blighters... He! He! He! :)
While we are on the subject of my garden, He has had a new room built on the opposite side of the garden, His lord and master calls it a shed. Let’s not beat about the bush here and not call a spade an agricultural item to me it looks like a glorified almighty wooden box with windows and a door. He can call it whatever He likes, it’s big and it’s in my space and I don’t think it should be there without first consulting me, I never get to have a say in matters that affect me... I am a no one, a dog, what rights do I have? And here’s another thing, I shall not, nay never be given permission to set foot in His workshop. The miserable old slug! where does He get off, telling me where I can and cannot go? If it’s in my garden it belongs to me and I can do what I want when I want.
The shed has been up for almost a week and so far the old fart has only looked at the monumental wooden monolith, “it’s all in the planning, Salvador”, He keeps telling me... “Planning, planning, planning. You can’t have enough planning”. I have seen more action from a dried up old slug then I've ever seen from Himself!
I have however seen, when He get around to it, the colour He intends to paint the box... a sickly dark green colour, my Master insists it is “sage” and ”a wood stain not pain that is also a wood preservative” WHATEVER! Another thing, there is another colour proposal to this “other room” in so far as that the window frames will be stained the same turquoise as the fence at the back of the garden, also the interior cross sections of the stable door. Very nice, what He has not told anyone is He nicked the idea from the shed in BBC 2’sT.V. Gardeners World programme He saw a few weeks ago. A case of pure plagiarism, if you ask Me.!
Not an original bone in His body... copy cat!
Till the next time.
Salvador
p.s. Thanks for the doggy bag Denis. ( my number one fan)
Thursday 25 March 2010
Sunday 14 March 2010
Henrietta the hamster
My extreme apologies to one and all, I forgot my blog password and somehow His lordship had deleted my word document link on the screen saver and so rendering me up a paddle without a creek.
What a week it has been, everyone seems to be like the provable headless chicken running around blindly getting nowhere very fast. Have you ever noticed time rushes explosively and before one knows it there is a new week biting your bum?
On the subject of biting and bums, I see the powers that be have once again fallen on their ass with a wonderfully foolish idea for us canines with enforced insurance and compulsory “tagging”.
Okay gang, till now I have been noted for ridiculing my Master and we all know He deserves it. Now at the risk of upsetting the apple cart I have never commented on those who can’t respond here on my blog, but I must voice my anger, nay outrage regarding the “concerns about the use of animals to intimidate or threaten people.” Let’s be honest you humans are only talking about us dogs, after all how may “Billy the budgie or Henrietta the hamster’s” have been known to associate themselves with lager slugging, foul mouth geriatric’s bent on forging their way to the front of the post office counter on pension day? “None, I hear you say, it’s dog that need to be controlled!”
I can understand where you are all coming fromon this one and up to a point I am all for the proposal, but before we go ahead with this I would like to highlight a few things.
Insurance in the event of an accident is to me a good idea if it’s for ones car in the event of said accident or per chance stolen, or house and content insurance to cover the invasion from your local thief / thug or the old cliché “Act of God” a flood due to mans impact on the world’s fragile climate, (can you see where I’m going with this?). What you don’t have is insurance to pay out in the event either you or one of your family bites another species because you “loss it” when they happened to piss you off, so you snapped at them.
For the first of the above there are more companies fighting for your custom then you can shake your car keys at, alas however when it comes to the latter the total can be counted on no hands, i.e. nil, zip, zero or to put it bluntly bugger all!
I am sure if and when such a law were to be placed on the statue books there will be companies fighting to “cover” every dog in the land and good luck to them. Three things come to mind, 1) the annual premium would be at such a level that little old men and ladies may have to either go without some vital basic requirement combined with the cost of “chipping” their trusted and loving companion or break the law. 2) The person likely to have a “trained” dog whatever the breed be will neither chip nor insure his pouch. Furthermore no insurance company is going to cover such dogs and their owners thus rendering them out of the system. 3) There is currently no stand-alone third-party insurance cover for the owners of dangerous dogs and no desire by insurance industry to provide cover against this very high.
I, like the majority of house hold dogs are only a danger to you if you happen to be a bowl of food and such you are history or a threat to our loved ones and in the event of an uninvited intruder to My home its best you look out!
Till the next time ... “Vote for me and I’ll set you free!”
Salvador
What a week it has been, everyone seems to be like the provable headless chicken running around blindly getting nowhere very fast. Have you ever noticed time rushes explosively and before one knows it there is a new week biting your bum?
On the subject of biting and bums, I see the powers that be have once again fallen on their ass with a wonderfully foolish idea for us canines with enforced insurance and compulsory “tagging”.
Okay gang, till now I have been noted for ridiculing my Master and we all know He deserves it. Now at the risk of upsetting the apple cart I have never commented on those who can’t respond here on my blog, but I must voice my anger, nay outrage regarding the “concerns about the use of animals to intimidate or threaten people.” Let’s be honest you humans are only talking about us dogs, after all how may “Billy the budgie or Henrietta the hamster’s” have been known to associate themselves with lager slugging, foul mouth geriatric’s bent on forging their way to the front of the post office counter on pension day? “None, I hear you say, it’s dog that need to be controlled!”
I can understand where you are all coming fromon this one and up to a point I am all for the proposal, but before we go ahead with this I would like to highlight a few things.
Insurance in the event of an accident is to me a good idea if it’s for ones car in the event of said accident or per chance stolen, or house and content insurance to cover the invasion from your local thief / thug or the old cliché “Act of God” a flood due to mans impact on the world’s fragile climate, (can you see where I’m going with this?). What you don’t have is insurance to pay out in the event either you or one of your family bites another species because you “loss it” when they happened to piss you off, so you snapped at them.
For the first of the above there are more companies fighting for your custom then you can shake your car keys at, alas however when it comes to the latter the total can be counted on no hands, i.e. nil, zip, zero or to put it bluntly bugger all!
I am sure if and when such a law were to be placed on the statue books there will be companies fighting to “cover” every dog in the land and good luck to them. Three things come to mind, 1) the annual premium would be at such a level that little old men and ladies may have to either go without some vital basic requirement combined with the cost of “chipping” their trusted and loving companion or break the law. 2) The person likely to have a “trained” dog whatever the breed be will neither chip nor insure his pouch. Furthermore no insurance company is going to cover such dogs and their owners thus rendering them out of the system. 3) There is currently no stand-alone third-party insurance cover for the owners of dangerous dogs and no desire by insurance industry to provide cover against this very high.
I, like the majority of house hold dogs are only a danger to you if you happen to be a bowl of food and such you are history or a threat to our loved ones and in the event of an uninvited intruder to My home its best you look out!
Till the next time ... “Vote for me and I’ll set you free!”
Salvador
Friday 5 March 2010
Like a big fairy minus their wings.
I am going to need everyone’s help here!
Can we all join hands and paws together so we can hopefully contact the living? Many is the time when I have noticed and thus written of my “Master losing the plot”. Now it’s critical, there’s no helping Him, it’s too late.
It all started Monday when He was trying to contact the local medical centre to ask a few questions re His visit to have His annual wee and blood tests. We start with getting the number from the now redundant Nokia N70, only to find once called, “number not in use” displayed on the upgraded mobile screen. Okay, no problem as He dials the same number on the landline portable handset only to hear a “diss” signal and tried explaining this to the receptionist at the local Primary Care Trust. He asks if she had a SDT (direct) line because as hard as He may He was not getting through on the “low rate” number. The lovely lady suggested another contact number with the same result. by now it was late Monday afternoon and to say the air was blue would be an understatement as we were still getting nowhere fast.
On Tuesday morning there was a flash of inspiration, let’s see if there is any updates on the doctor’s web site... good move He thinks, but no chance.
“Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking at this point?”
Still the same response from both modes of telecommunication and now He is very ratty with the whole exercise ever so quickly. Pacing or should I say more prancing about in the lounge and kitchen continually bashing away on both handsets in a vain attempt to make contact with someone, anyone ! PLEASE!!
Back on to the PCT the same wonderful lady from the day before. Mister Grumpy without a bye or leave does not give the lady time to utter a work, He begins to pontificate how as an ex telecoms engineer (“got a B-tech” He keeps telling anyone who will pay attention long enough) can tell something is wrong and a trained ear can tell if the tone on the other end is “line/subscriber engaged and line disconnected”. “Hello Patrick” whispers an angelic voice the other end, sorry but you have called your office equipment suppliers, you must have misdialled. As you’re on, the glossy paper you ordered is in stock. Put your glasses on, comes to mind!
Back at the Trust a very agreeable listened then rang the doctors from her switchboard and attempted to patch His lordship through, alas without success. This was due to a crossover glitch and nothing else, because the lady (what a saint!), had got a ringing tone. Still unable to get any connection with the centre it was time to chill out and take a little time out to gather one’s self.
The drugs don’t work, I’m telling you guys, they are going to have to be reviewed... they aren’t doing the job. Thirty plus hours after He had re-dialled from the old handset the number, He noticed the WRONG prefix had been punched into both sets. The slug!
Having a doggie left eye from a burst blood vessel, this resulted in half to three quarters of said eye’s vision being somewhere fluffy to squidgy; He had punched in “0854” and not “0845”. The blame was laid firmly at the door of the left eye and there was no more to be said on the subject. Silly old fart, so how come all the other digits were okay, all eleven of them? If you ask me the beginning of the end is banging at the door.... the “little grey cells” are moving out, they’re vacating the host for greener pastures.
From under the armchair
Salvador
Can we all join hands and paws together so we can hopefully contact the living? Many is the time when I have noticed and thus written of my “Master losing the plot”. Now it’s critical, there’s no helping Him, it’s too late.
It all started Monday when He was trying to contact the local medical centre to ask a few questions re His visit to have His annual wee and blood tests. We start with getting the number from the now redundant Nokia N70, only to find once called, “number not in use” displayed on the upgraded mobile screen. Okay, no problem as He dials the same number on the landline portable handset only to hear a “diss” signal and tried explaining this to the receptionist at the local Primary Care Trust. He asks if she had a SDT (direct) line because as hard as He may He was not getting through on the “low rate” number. The lovely lady suggested another contact number with the same result. by now it was late Monday afternoon and to say the air was blue would be an understatement as we were still getting nowhere fast.
On Tuesday morning there was a flash of inspiration, let’s see if there is any updates on the doctor’s web site... good move He thinks, but no chance.
“Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking at this point?”
Still the same response from both modes of telecommunication and now He is very ratty with the whole exercise ever so quickly. Pacing or should I say more prancing about in the lounge and kitchen continually bashing away on both handsets in a vain attempt to make contact with someone, anyone ! PLEASE!!
Back on to the PCT the same wonderful lady from the day before. Mister Grumpy without a bye or leave does not give the lady time to utter a work, He begins to pontificate how as an ex telecoms engineer (“got a B-tech” He keeps telling anyone who will pay attention long enough) can tell something is wrong and a trained ear can tell if the tone on the other end is “line/subscriber engaged and line disconnected”. “Hello Patrick” whispers an angelic voice the other end, sorry but you have called your office equipment suppliers, you must have misdialled. As you’re on, the glossy paper you ordered is in stock. Put your glasses on, comes to mind!
Back at the Trust a very agreeable listened then rang the doctors from her switchboard and attempted to patch His lordship through, alas without success. This was due to a crossover glitch and nothing else, because the lady (what a saint!), had got a ringing tone. Still unable to get any connection with the centre it was time to chill out and take a little time out to gather one’s self.
The drugs don’t work, I’m telling you guys, they are going to have to be reviewed... they aren’t doing the job. Thirty plus hours after He had re-dialled from the old handset the number, He noticed the WRONG prefix had been punched into both sets. The slug!
Having a doggie left eye from a burst blood vessel, this resulted in half to three quarters of said eye’s vision being somewhere fluffy to squidgy; He had punched in “0854” and not “0845”. The blame was laid firmly at the door of the left eye and there was no more to be said on the subject. Silly old fart, so how come all the other digits were okay, all eleven of them? If you ask me the beginning of the end is banging at the door.... the “little grey cells” are moving out, they’re vacating the host for greener pastures.
From under the armchair
Salvador
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