Louis the Cocker Spaniel from Harrogate

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New Hair Cut New Perfume!!

I was sent to a new Groomers last week. Why, Mummy No.2 had a Birthday party and several guests said How fat I was. So after a hangover and some serious telephone calls between my two Mums. They decided that I wasn’t fat, but too hairy! So off to the Groomers I went. Now Mum No.1 had found a New Groomers in Leeds.

On the day of the appointment, a very nice lady came to the door to had a very over powering perfume! Little did we know that this was a sign! Anyway, Mum had been out the night before, champagne-itus, had set it early the following morning, so she had not got up in time and I missed me morning walk!!!

Off to Leeds I went in a cage! Surrounded by two very posh small dogs, one which looked too fluffy for my liking. Once we arrived the day got off to a great start, with Bacon Sandwiches! Thank God the Groomer, had not told Mum about this or she would have stopped the fatty fun straight away. We then had a walk and awaited our turns.

Eventually I was returned home, Mum was please to see me. But Dad was different, he normally takes the piss out of my new hair cut, calling me 1940’s Boy, skinny. This time he was very stand offish, Mum was sorting the groomers cash out and Dad just looked at me..... he waited till the groomer had gone. Then he said, ‘ Are you wearing perfume?’, Mum then gave me a cuddle and said ‘He’s wearing doggie perfume!’ then Dad burst out laughing and said ‘No dog of mine is wearing perfume, get him in the bath!’

It took 3 days to remove the smell, a bath everyday for 3 days, I don’t like that groomer! But dad seems to think it’s a good idea, but he’s just mean!

Finders Keepers

I have found a ball, while walking on the Stray, as my regular readers will know I’m not allowed balls due to the back legs being a bit stiff.

Anyway, I found this lovely lime green tennis ball which fits like a glove in my mouth. My idea of a good ball game is chase. Chase me and try and get the ball back. But I have discovered that Mum doesn’t like this game she wants the play the throw the ball, I bring it back game. Which I have to say is a, a bit boring and b, HELLO, who’s got the bad back legs and isn’t allowed balls because of the running! I worry about her sometimes.

So I hang on to the ball and we play a little pull the ball out of my mouth game. Which is really easy to win! All you have to do is dribble saliva on the ball, a lot of it and then the ball is slippy but more important Mum doesn’t want my spit all over her hands.

She has been talking about getting my a football because of the spit on the hands thing. I just wish one thing........ I wish she’d stop talking about getting me a ball and bloody get me one.

Shopping is NOT for Dogs

Last month I wrote about my lack of love for long walks and how now being in my stately years I no longer wished to dragged around the Stray three times a day. Well, it’s been taken to the other extreme!!

Four times this week I have been taken to the shops on Leeds Rd, Left outside the Co-op while Mum pops in and then back home!! Now, I know what I wrote last month about the long walks and that, but come on. The shortening of the walk is an excellent idea but just not this short. Maybe I didn’t explain myself well enough, what I meant to say were, shorter walks, that include some sniff interest and don’t include a sit down for twenty minutes on cold concrete while you do your shopping!!

I do like to feel a little grass under the paws on a walk, just not all the way to the Stray every time. I was thinking, The Oval maybe, or a little trot around the Cricket Ground. But taking me around the block ending up at the shops, tying me to a pole and leaving me in the cold and wet for 10 minutes then telling me off for barking, is not the answer.

And while I’m having a moan, can I have a haircut.

You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

I’ve decided that I, Louis the Cocker of Harrogate, being 11 human years old (which is 77 in dog years) am officially retired. Yes, I’m hanging up my collar, saying goodbye to the lead, it’s time to put my feet up and enjoy my old age.

I’m sick of long walks, I no longer want to go all the way to the Stray twice a day, I want lots of love, food (of Course), back scratches, short walk and

loads of rest.So why is it that the parents insist on long walks everyday, haven’t they noticed that I’m getting on a bit? So I have decided to revert to my cunning dog short walk tactics. This requires the following, steely determination, dogmatic manner, stubborn attitude and down right bloody mindedness. And if your out with Dad a strong neck (you’ll see later).

So set off on normal walk, trot nicely by the side, occasionally stopping for wee or sniff, then at end of road perform a No.2. Immediately after pinching a loaf, turn whole body to face home. Stand in a braced position, and prepare for the neck jerk. This will come straight after, poo has been scooped.

At first jerk, do not look away from your target, the target being home. Prepared for a more severe jerk, after the first and second jerk has failed be prepared for a serious drag maneuver, now to compensate for this, I usually assume the sit/point position. This gives good weight to your position, while still indicating the desired direction of home.

Now, I find that the sit/point position only works in very public situations. So pick a busy road with plenty of traffic, as parents do not want to look like they are mistreating you as this does look very cruel, trying to drag a dog.

After a little discussion, it will be agreed to return home where I can get back to bed. There now that wasn’t too hard now was it!!

Two Bag Walks! April 2008

It has been apparent recently that Mummy 1 has been monitoring my bowel movements. I’ve also been very aware that my food has been changing regularly too. It appears that Mum is doing an experiment to see which food creates the least waste, if you know what I mean.

Well, after 3 weeks research, I’ve had 3 different food products, wet meat in sachets, dry biscuits with a bit of different wet meat and a complete dry meal. Which was I have to say the least favorite of mine. Anyway, each walk was closely monitored and once I’d performed, rough calculations of weight and size of my poo were noted. Comments like ‘oo No we don’t like that food do we Louis’ or ‘ Nope, that’s massive, don’t like this food either’ were then passed. The remainder of the walk was an almost scientific consultation of the results and the now diet alterations were spoken about. Even Dad, was getting fed up of the conversation, I could see his eyes glaze over, as the conversation turned to my bowel motions.

After nearly three weeks of food tests, close monitoring of the waste results. A decision was made on the brand and kind of food I was to be put. This being the optimum solution for the smallest poos, not I might add the food I liked the most. Everything was going fine, but what nobody had bothered to realise was that, with all this diet changing, the delicate balance in my stomach had been upset and now having the same meal everyday would allow my tummy to return to normality. In short the diet trials had not been done under full laboratory conditions and therefore the results were floored.

If these tests had been done under strict clinical conditions and for a long enough period of time. The quasi-scientists that call themselves my parents, would have realised that said small poo making food stuffs, does indeed generate small phiseas. But.....and it’s a big but, the generate a lot more of them. Conclusion I go twice on a walk. Dad, has named this situation the two bagger walk! Now, I do want to point out that, on the occasions I have needed two waste bags on the walk, neither parent had enough bags! And on one occasion there were witnesses to Mum, leaving it on the Stray. Most embarrassing!

Boys Weekend March 2008

Both Mums went away last weekend together, which meant one of two things. Either I was staying with Dad No1, who has had dogs all his life and as known me as a puppy. Or Dad No2, who’s more a cat person.

Don’t get me wrong cat people are cool, but they just don’t get it sometimes. Like the regular walks and things.

Anyway after two days he was fine, we had the walk thing down to a tee. He really understood that I needed to go when and where I wanted. This was my walk, not his and after a little confrontation he knew where he stood. The main thing though was we were bonding, we were a team, we were being lads..... lads together and it was great.

Food times were good too. He bought me my favorite treats, extra carrots and some nice meat too. Which Mum never buys. Dad No.1 popped round on Sunday with some of the leftovers from his Sunday Dinner which was a real treat.

Most of all though, the one thing I loved the most was the lack of paw washes!! Mum always washes my feet after every walk. whereas dad..... well, Dad didn’t. It was great we were being man and dog together, no washing, yeah! We just enjoyed getting smelly.... together. Well, I thought it was together but I now know, it was just me, who was starting to stink.

I heard him on the phone to Mum, telling her that I was a bit smelly and how he was concerned about my bad back leg when lifting me. I couldn’t understand what he was on about. Then it clicked, there was me thinking he knew I hated my paws being washed and was letting me off. I thought we were getting filthy together, but no, this wasn’t a lads weekend of fun and dirt and boys stuff. No he’s a lazy good for nothing, who wasn’t letting me off having my paws washed at all.......he just couldn’t be arsed!

Winter Walks Feb 2008

January has never been a favorite month for me... in fact every dog I talk to feels the same.

Cold Nights, Winter mornings, Parents moaning about Credit Cards, Mum saying how fat she is...... January is rubbish.

This January has been no exception all the usual colds, moaning and the like. Except this year I’ve changed! yes, Me Louis has decided to take control of the situation, I, Louis, Proud Cocker Spaniel of Harrogate, pedigreed beyond all doubt. I am putting my Paw down!

I am no longer prepared to go for walks when I’m told, bugger that. Who wants to go for a freezing cold trot round the block at 7am each morning, just so Mum can get to work on time. Nope, I’m not having it, I’m going for nice walks when I want. I’ve put up with this early morning, brass monkey, weather walks for long enough. I’m having walks at the time of day I want and I’m going to go where I want. I think I deserve it, after all I’m over 10 years old now, which is 70 in dog years.

So mid morning walks, preferably after breakfast with a carrot chaser. Oh and bowl of water to help it down. Then I’d like handmade marmalade on toast scraps served at the table. Afterwards I’d like to retire to my bed, where I can relax and wake up nicely.

After 20 minutes chilling in my bed, I’d like to don my hacking jacket and head for the smells! I’d like a leisurely walk to the Stray. Stopping at every gate, wall, post, postbox, car, bush, pile of leaves or anywhere another dog might of passed by, for a good old sniff.

Once at the Stray, I’d like to be let off the leash and allowed 20-30 minutes exercise, finished off with a toilet stop. Note to self: Remember for the toilet stop to have the ultimate satisfaction, it must be absolutely miles away from any bins or skips for Poo bag. Make them carry it, that’s what I say.

Then return home, via a different route to the one we went on (extra sniffs) then straight to bed till my afternoon walk.

Now is that too much to ask.

Love Louis