Pheobe

Reggie

Kendo

Blogs

An everyday story of country dogs and cats

 Hello and welcome to my blog. If you've come here from my first blog, then you'll know all about me but, if you've just happened across this page while looking for something else go here Previously on Pheobe's Blog to find out all about me.

Wednesday July 15th

So, from what the little boss says, I'm six months old and she thinks it's well time I grew up. I suppose she's right but I don't feel grown up. I still feel like just a puppy and like I have to be the centre of attention ALL the time. I think the little boss understands, she keeps saying; "It's just a phase. It will pass." but I think she says it more in hope than certainty. If I'm with her or the big boss or Kendo, I'm all right. I don't feel the need to whinge or whine but sometimes I'm not, sometimes there's no one around and that worries me.

Thursday July 16th.

The weather is miserable and we can't go up onto the lane because it looks and smells different. The little boss is very annoyed about it, says it's a complete waste of time and money because the lorries will only break it all again.

I've spent most of the evening with the little boss. It's been lovely.

Friday July 17th

More time with the little boss. She's let me see how the blogs get written. It's magic and so soothing. I fell asleep.

I think a good idea would be to put in our favourite (so far) pictures

August 3rd.

I've been thinking a lot since yesterday about being a grown up sheep dog. I had my first really big go at being a sheep dog as opposed to just moving lambs out of our field.

It started out as an ordinary walk but when we were coming down the hill, I saw some sheep by the bridge. I think I must have seen them before the little boss because when she saw me go in to sheep moving mode as she calls it, she told me I was a good girl. Then she said; "If a job's worth doing.... we'll have to take these b*****s all the way home."

There were two grown up lady sheep and a little one so I thought that I should be very polite. Lady sheep can be quite stroppy if you don't show them respect, so I just walked slowly as they moved forward. I didn't shout at them, some sheep dogs do but I think that's just rude and showing off. I look at it this way, if a sheep, especially a grown up sheep, is doing what you want it to do without you shouting and running about, then why waste the energy.

We kept them going forward, such a long way, further than I've ever been before. I kept thinking there were some really interesting smells that I should investigate but the sheep kept stopping and looking at me so I had to keep them moving. I began to wonder if we would ever get home again but just then the sheep did a quick right turn and the little boss told me; "That'll do." and I knew that my job was done.

Then we turned around and started back for home. It was such a strange place and, of course, I had to investigate every single smell and all the little nooks and crannies in the stones. And there were noises too, Different birds and the river and the very big black things that aren't sheep, mooing. I was very tired when we got  back but my mind was buzzing with ideas about being a grown up sheep dog.

Aug 11th

Something terrible happened last night.

I was out for my usual walk at about four and a half past dinner when I spotted something. It was quite dark but I could see this shape, like a stone had fallen off the wall or a big clump of moss, only I could tell, even from a distance, it was alive.  It had a face and little twinkly eyes.

When the little boss saw it she said hello to it. That made me feel a bit braver so I went up to say hello but the little boss said not to get too close or I'd regret it. Why don't I listen. I tried sniffing it but it sort of curled in on its self and there was a sharp pain in my nose and I pulled away and growled at it but it didn't seem to be at all frightened by me.

I've found a picture of one. It's called a hedge hog

 Hello, I'm Reggie formerly known as 3. I used to live in  a commune across the road but I moved out about oh four years ago now and came to live here. Tell the truth there was a bit of trouble and when I found myself over here, it seemed a bit dangerous to go back. There used to be a really nice elderly lady dog here. She was stone deaf but a good laugh and nice to cuch up to, you know.

Anyway, she passed on and a few weeks later the little white job arrived. I understand that the folks didn't want to be without a dog but did they have to pick that noisy, smelly in your face little brat. I dare she'll improve with time. The one that came after her is all right. He's a bit of a clown and a bit unsure of himself but he'll shape up.

Friday July 17th (I think) Another day in Paradise awaits. Life can be fairly boring here for a cat but I don't mind that. I can come and go as I please and once I'm outside, well, the world's my lobster or what ever.

When the weather's good, I walk miles through the fields. I steer clear of the roads, even the lane 'cause there's lorries and lots of other motors at the moment, 'cause they're cutting down trees in  what used to be the forest but the fields, that's different, that's my world. The weather's not good today so I'll stay in bed for awhile. I can do that, if I want. I'll just stay and dream and wait till my next scrummy dish of tuna cat food.

Don't go in much for photographs but if they do, well why shouldn't I.

One of my favourite pictures, dinner!

August 4th

I've got worms. I think she who must be obeyed knows. Well, when ever I go off my grub, which I do sometimes especially when I've been out and about killing and eating small furry mammals or sweet little dickey birds, she assumes that it's worms. Trouble is she's generally right. At least I'm not like the plebs next door (both sides) who have to have tablets when they're carrying a load of worms, no, I'm special, I get drops on my neck and that gets rid of the problem. Don't ask me how, I mean I can't get around to lick it off, but somehow I absorb it like osmosis and the worms go. When she does us all together she calls it 'mass vermicide'. She thinks she's really clever and I suppose she is. Me, I'm cunning and crafty clever, the squirt well, she's intelligent but inexperienced and the clown, well, he's a clown and gets what he wants by looking sad and unloved so I suppose that's pretty clever too but the boss, there's a complicated mind even for a person but I do not go there. This is my blog and should be about me and what I do and what I think I'll do now is go and kill something for a snack. Now what do I fancy. There were some rather plump little rabbits around awhile back.

August 5th If I hear one more earnest word about sheep and how to be a proper sheep dog, I swear I'll bite off my own tail. She just goes on and on....

There were once two old gentlemen cats here , or so I was once told by the little tortie job who was, I'm almost certain, my auntie or something, who used to hunt sheep. I've seen it myself, in the wild as it were, two or more cats will get together and stalk the newborn lambs. It's quite good sport, so I believe.

I wonder what her next door would think if I told her that? Ah well, she's young, I suppose and doesn't yet understand that there is nothing in the world that hasn't been done before.

I remember my first mouse. It was a fat little thing and not very fast on it's feet but oh my goodness, it tasted so good. That's my job round here, I kill vermin. sometimes I eat them, sometimes I leave them lying around so that she who must be obeyed can find them and know that I'm 'at me work' as the song says, sometimes I do both, especially if they're a bit high. Normally, unless it's a bird, when swmbo sees me with a kill, she'll say good man.

Aug 11th

Oh I laughed till I cried! Feeble met her first spiny person last night  and it frightened her. Ah bless.

The elderly lady dog who used to live here once tried to eat one of the spiny people. At least Feeble isn't that daft. I told her that the spiny people have only three real enemies in the world; cars who like to squash them just for fun, badger folk who have powerful big claws and can rip them apart and eat the juicey bits and, so ledgend has it, gipsey folk who cover them in clay and cook them, presumably to eat the juicey bits. I have powerful claws but I wouldn't tackle a spiny person.

 Sut mae. Kendo dyma er not sure if  I should do this in Cymreag or English. I suppose as the boss' Welsh is bloody 'opeless, it should be English but I'm a Welsh dog so I think in Welsh.

I've been here since the beginning of April and apart from one or two unfortunate incidents, it's great. Despite what 'im next door says, I am part Border Collie, probably a lot  more than others, at least I'm black and white and not vertically challenged like some not a million miles away

Wednesday 15th er July

Not a lot happening today. I've been for lots of long walks and seen a lot of sheep. Can't say I'm that fond of sheep. I'm not prejudiced, I just don't think they're very interesting animals and anyway I'm not really supposed to have anything to do with them.

One of the incidents I briefly referred to in my intro was to do with sheep but I'd sooner not go into any more detail if you don't mind. Suffice it to say if the sheep get into our fields, I'm not the boss's first choice of sheep dog. No that's her job, the squirt. Despite her size -- or lack of it -- she's a 'proper' sheepdog. She's had the training, see, knows what the boss wants her to do.

I've tried to get her to tell me the tricks of the trade but she won't, says she doesn't think it's something I could master at my age and with my lack of 'breeding'. Cheeky mare.

My favourite picture of me.

It's my favourite because it's the one that sold me to my new people. I'm not saying that my life was terrible and grim before, just that it's good here.

August 5th.

Is it really August. Time passes, I suppose. I've been here for a little bit over sixteen weeks. It feels like home now even though there are still things that I'm not allowed to do, unaccomp... on my own. I suppose that will come when they trust me a bit more.

I was talking to Reggie yesterday and he said that the old lady dog -- he would never call her or even the squirt a bitch because he doesn't think that's a polite word -- used to go off lead on the lane, especially when she was with the bloke boss.

I think I would like to do that. Maybe, when I've been here longer than I've been anywhere else, I'll be able to do that.

I have dreams sometimes where my old people come and say they want me back. I know that won't happen, I'm not completely daft but in my dreams I don't want to go back with them and that makes me feel guilty because I suppose they might still love me.

Oh dreams are daft things anyway.

Aug 6th She's been droning on about those sheep for days. Alright, so for a pup her age it's good, yes, but she's not the only one here who has sheep dog blood in her. I'm a cross bred, yes but I'm still border collie somewhere in my background. Maybe one day the lady boss will let me have a go but that won't be for awhile yet.

Aug 9th Went for a really long walk today and had to sit on the side of the road as a car went past. I'm used to that.

When we were coming back just about to cross the bridge, we saw the car coming back. I sat in the gate entrance far back from the road to let him pass and beggar me, they stop.

Two people get out; a bloke and a young girl and the bloke bends down and starts making a fuss of me. I was shocked. People don't do that. I mean the bosses do, they're always making a big fuss of us, but not total strangers, stroking your head and sayin' what beautiful eyes you've got. It was embarrassing, especially from a bloke. The girl was nice, she smelled sweet and she was pretty. I didn't mind her stroking my 'ead but I was a bit worried about him, I must admit. Even the lady boss said that I was different to the squirt, only she didn't call her the squirt, she calls her Phoebe or the puppy. Anyway, these folk seemed to like me. I hope that doesn't mean that I'll be leaving here. I mean my people liked me and I left where I was and came to them. No, they wouldn't do that to me. They love me.

Aug 11th

I don't know why he's laughing at her the way he is. Not everybody has his experience of life. I don't know how I would react if I ever met one of the spiny ones.

What they all seem to forget is that she's only a baby. They were babies once. Even Reggie was a kitten and all right so she's in your face all the time but, fair play to her, she does stop if she's really told and it's a stage we've all been through. You grow up and stop acting like a prat, well, some of us do.