Bella becomes the latest animal to make a definite second appearance on the blog, following her debut on Christmas Day 2015. Seven years on, little has changed about her, including this, her main tactic for persuading humans to give her food; if dogs know about the concept of a raison d’etre, the acquisition of food is Bella’s.
Thora is, of course, not a mogwai — the creature that spawns the Gremlins in the movie of that name — but she sure looks like one.
I have been looking at this sign for some months now, but only today really understood the implications. I’ve seen dog ice cream for sale, and in the Arndale centre in Manchester there is now a whole stall selling little doggy cakes and pastries. But dog karaoke? Methinks we are starting to pamper our little pooches just that little bit too much. Although I doubt the singing would be appreciably worse.
With no posts for ten days perhaps you thought I’d finally given up the ghost, or at least the blog had — but no, ’twas that old staple, “computer problems”. Not entirely solved now, so bear with me, but I shall start on the catching-up process at least. This encounter seems quite a while ago now, but one can see the basic curiosity-mingled-with-sheer-terror that this little dog exhibits, faced with this giant Newfoundland. Yes, they are the same species. That’s genetic engineering for you.
A day at home, between trips away, and watching the beer get delivered to the pub (from across the road, for some reason) was the day’s chief entertainment. Diamond the dog becomes the latest animal to make theblog twice, adopting much the same position as on her first appearance.
Ben gets some Him Time, and seems thoroughly contented by the experience. As the amount of white around his muzzle attests, he’s an old man, and at some later point in our own lives I guess we’ll all crave this kind of attention.
Is waiting a thing that dogs would do if we hadn’t trained them to do it over millennia? Predators learn to wait, I guess. But not for their human master to come back from the bar.
A very limited day in terms of photographic opportunities. It was some cherry blossom again, or pub dog Reggie being mildly exploited. But he doesn’t mind this kind of thing, it’s his job.
“Please. You’ve gotta get me out of here. I didn’t ask to make my life here, a day’s journey from the nearest grooming salon.”
I might think the same if, like this critter, I was living at Scalderskew in the Lake District — I do not know of a more isolated dwelling in the country. If you’re interested, the most prominent peak in the background is Seatallan.
Being 42 