Malamutes, Coffee and Rothko!

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Today I have been juggling writing a 2000 word essay on philosopher Karl Popper, my latest contract – copy for a damp proofing site, and depression! Procrastination is an uphill…….oh shiney. I started by completing two pages of urgently needed copy, before writing the essay question and a rough introduction. Bloody brilliant start – pat on the back for me……..this was before 10 am. Since then I have sat and stared into space…….tomorrow’s another day!

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Phew! That was nerve racking (and yes, being as pedantic as I am, I checked the spelling and etymology of the phrase)! Walking calmly home after and overly warm jaunt, we met Harry, running out of out of his farm driveway! Now, we’ve had a few meeting with Harry, usually when he’s running loose on the blind bends. He’s a gorgeous tricolour collie – not particularly large, but he makes up for that in sheer snarly aggressiveness. My experiences with farm dogs is that they are fantastically trained with livestock and the running of farms, but fucking awful with other dogs, and very territorial. Harry is no exception. My dogs were brilliant, and just stood while Harry barked, growled and generally scared the shit out of me. Luckily, he does usually keep his distance but even so………Hamish would rip him to shreds if he got too close. Thankfully, as I was sort of stuck there, Harry’s unabashed owner came (slowly) to collect him, and with a cheery wave (seriously?), they were gone and silence reigned. Ummmm……

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This morning, for a change, we went exploring; we found horse poo, cow poo, and sheep poo – the beasts were ecstatic! We also met a more respectful class of rabbits – these ones had the decency to actually make an effort to run away. No tagging each other in a bunny relay race, no squeaky bunny sniggering as they stay just out of reach, taunting the poor demons, and no weird rabbit droppings laid in completely straight parallel lines, or any other geometric design, for that matter. These ones had read and inwardly digested the ‘How to Look Like a Proper Rabbit, and Not Draw Attention to the Lagomorph World Domination Plan’ guidebook. But at least the dogs are sort of knackered now, and I have coffee and study books open – tsk who am I kidding? lol Image result for rabbit poo

How to tell a Malamute from a Husky
By Doug L
For the ever-shedding pack

Shelters often cannot tell the difference between a Husky and a Malamute. The general public is worse. Malamutes are generally large but it may be a big Husky, a small Malamute, or a mix of the two. If you see a Northern breed dog or have adopted one from a shelter, this
simple quiz can help differentiate between these two very distinct breeds.

Note the position of the ears:
A. The ears are almost vertical to hear mice under the snow.
B. The ears point out like radar dishes to hear grocery bags.

The eye color is:
A. Blue. Or brown. Or both. Or yellow and blue in one eye. Sometimes I
swear they switch places.
B. Brown, definitely. Maybe blue. What are you, a show judge or something?

The proper term for the dog is:   IMG_1580 (2).jpg
A. Siberian Husky
B. Alaskan Malamute
C. My snooky wuggums

Is that a squirrel?
A. Squirrel? Come on guys, let’s get it!
B. Smmh mmbl?*gulp* What squirrel?

Have you been digging?
A. Yes, I am terraforming your planet.
B. Yes, at the bottom of the steps is a pit deep enough you can’t see out of it.

You introduce a new dog food and:
A. Bleh. I’ll hold out for chicken. For days.
B.*Whoosh* More, please? And that chicken defrosting in the fridge? Gone.

Intelligence test: cover kibble with a cloth and let the dog figure it out.
A. Grab the cloth. Give it a kill shake. Vacuum up the kibble.
B. Whine. Sniff. Whine. Ah, the heck with this. Pounce on the cloth
with both paws. Tear a hole through it. Vacuum up the kibble.

How does the dog wake you up?
A. Jumps on the bed and sits on your head.
B. Jumps on the bed and sits on your gut, crushing the air out of you.

When people see the dog they say:
A. Ooh, is that a wolf?
B. Ooh, is that a wolf?

The pack starts yodeling at 3 am and sounds like
A. A-ooo. Yii-ooo!
B. Rooo Wooo!

The dog is built:
A. Like an eco-friendly pickup truck, very light on gas. Goes
anywhere and can haul quite a bit.
B. Like a Unimog truck and sucks up fuel like one. Goes anywhere,
hauls huge loads, and drags you through the brush.

When the dog sheds:
A. You brush and vacuum for days and still have hairy tumbleweeds
bigger than rabbits.
B. See A.

You left her alone in the car for only a minute and she:
A. Shredded the passenger seat, half the dash, and chewed off the gear
shift knob.
A. Ate the passenger seat and threw it up on the driver seat.

When you feed the dogs, you
A. Put the bowls in one room and they scramble for their own bowl.
B. Put the bowls in separate rooms and close the doors.

The dog flosses his teeth by:
A. Shredding furniture.
B. Shredding house siding.

When your dog meets other dogs, she thinks:
A. They might be new playmates. I wonder if they like chicken?
B. They might steal my dinner. I wonder what they taste like?

Is the dog is trustworthy around human infants?
A. Totally. They howl together.
B. Absolutely. They sleep snuggled up to each other.

Northern dogs are escape artists. On several occasions the dog:
A. Dug under the fence, jumped over the fence, or pried open a hole
just large enough to slip through.
B. Chewed through a fence post until he could push down the gate.

Of course your dog counter-surfs.
A. She jumps onto the counter and walks the length, sampling everything.
B. She puts her front paws on the counter, licks all the garbage from
the sink, and carries a 10 lb sack of potatoes back to her crate.

Every dog should go to obedience class. Your dog, however:
A. Ignored you through the whole thing, made you look like a fool by
aceing the exam, and promptly went back to ignoring you.
B. Gave the “hairy eyeball” to every Rottweiler and Doberman in the
class but was nervous around the Chihuahuas.

You turn vegan and decide your dog should join you. You toss
vegetables to the dog. He reacts:
A. Snap! Spit! That is*not* food.
B. Snap! What the hell did I just eat?

When a friend comes over, the dog reacts:
A. Hi there! Just one pat, thank you. You are dismissed.
A. Hi there! Got any food? Ooh, I love to slobber faces. Got any food?

Siberians and Malamutes are not the best at recall. The dog runs off and:
A. Two hours later you get a call from the local police. When you
arrive, the dog is smiling from the back of the cruiser and the top of
their white car is covered with muddy paw prints.
B. Two hours later she scares the hell out of you by sneaking up from
behind and barking.

The proper number of Huskies or Malamutes is:
A. 2
B. 3 or 4
C. Every Christmas you send a bottle of bourbon to the local animal
control officer.

Answer key:

If you answered A to most questions, you probably have a Siberian
Husky. You have been distracted for 10 minutes. Check to see your dog
has not escaped with the car.

If you answered B to most questions, you probably have an Alaskan
Malamute and your dinner was stolen while reading this quiz.

If you answered C to the last question, you are owned by Siberians or
Malamutes. This is normal. You do not need professional help,
regardless what your relatives say.

 

Yes, I am well aware that I am bad for oversleeping; however, you had an extra long walk to Image result for spilt coffeecompensate, and an apparently delicious breakfast, so why do you feel it necessary to throw the rope toy at my head and, whilst the tennis ball in coffee cup was an impressively accurate shot, was it really deserved? By contrast, it was hysterically funny to watch the look of panic on your face when you realised that at the speed you were going, you wouldn’t be able to stop in time- straight over the sofa and onwards! PMSL

 

The sunrise was gorgeous this morning – salmon pink streaks in a slate grey, fading to white, then to blue, sky as the earth moved under it, the beasts relaxing flat out underneathsunrise the moving rainbow of colours. There you go, I have to get my creative fix somehow; my current contract is writing about damp proofing – there’s only so much creativity that you can sneak into that (I did try, though, describing how tanking a cellar could turn it into an extra room – a colourful playroom, a relaxing reading den, etc – I wonder if it will stay in until it goes to print lol). But it’s now zoomies and coffee time

 

Beast Training:
‘Dogs Haw/Gee’
Hamish – immediately, without thinking, goes the right way.
Pagan – checks paws to work out direction – both are white lol
‘Dogs Sit’
Pagan – absolutely, cos I will get a treat and am much cleverer and smugger than Hamish.
Hamish – Well, it really depends on what you mean by ‘sit’; you could mean ‘bounce’, or ‘sniff’, or ‘jump up’. Do you mean ‘sit’ as in not standing, and if so, what do you want me to ‘sit’ on? The floor is relative to the direction my paws are facing, surely? I’m on my back, therefore where is the floor? Is the floor a metaphysical theory of space? The floor presumably lays on top of ‘the ground’ therefore do you mean ‘floor’ or ‘ground’? If you mean the floor as the base level, then that is not the floor, it is the ground that lies under the floor…….’Just fucking sit’!

 

I am in the doghouse – committed the cardinal sin, the thing that no one should do, or at least be caught doing it, I am a bad person. I feel guilt, shame, and disgust at myself for allowing myself to tumble headfirst into the pit of the murky underworld, the quagmire of temptation, and possibly even the Bog of Eternal Stench, deserving to live out my days in the Oubliette of darkness and loneliness (sorry, I seem to have slipped into Labyrinth land). I dare not even speak of what I have done, it is too shameful, I could not bear your scorn, your turning away in embarrassment for me, your disgust at my appalling sin…….oh okay, if you insist……I slated Pagan to Hamish, AND SHE HEARD ME!!! I am broken

Bastard bloody dog – now, he wants the peel taken off his apple before he’ll eat it!!!

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Updates and Stuff

img_1523-3Treated myself to the most gorgeous little Tudric/Liberty & Co pewter bowl yesterday – I adore the feel of the soft, luxurious hammered metal, the simplicity of the lines, touching on the art nouveau movement with the curve of the handles, and the organically curved split where they join. A bargain at a mere tenner (after a bit of haggling anyway lol).

Dear Doctor,
This morning I found myself crawling around on the floor with the beasts; we were all singing together, pawing each other (people – please!) and generally having a joyous time. Is there something wrong with me? Take a double measure of gin up to 10 times a day, you say? Okey dokey, Doc, I’ll start right away!

Study……study……. I’ll just groom the dogs…..study…….coffee………game of tug with img_1522-2Hamish…….study………..Pagan wants a tummy rub……..study………why, Hamish, of course I’ll play football with you…….coffee……..study……..group song……..you want a back scratch, Hamish, while I rub Pagans tummy with foot? Of course………..study…….coffee…….just pop dogs out for a wee……..time for dog games…….stu…..seriously, why do I bother with the study? 😉

Pagan ‘fell’ in the pond this morning – and then apparently couldn’t find the bank to climb out! Happily swimming round like a strange platypus, head underwater, and her tail, rudder-like, flopping around. Silly moo!

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 Well, with all the pollarding, the fields are a quagmire of muddy soup now that the freeze has vanished. Bring back the crunchy frost, please! However, despite all the odds stacked against me, I stayed vertical – always a bonus, I feel. The beasts were filthy due to joyous sharking across the cricket pitch, Slutbitch collecting every worm cast on her face whilst I dragged an apparently dead dog across the field. Eventually, by a weird mix of writhing and rolling, she caught up with me – I do wonder what people think if they look out of their windows and see two muddy mallies who have lost the use of their legs, miraculously jump up to flatten the weeble, who then starts screaming and batting at them to get off, which just makes them worse – seriously, dogs, every fucking morning – why? So, of course, a rough toweling down (although by this stage I was muddier than them) is an excuse for pre breakfast zoomies, followed by a session of sulking because I wouldn’t feed them until their breathing had settled down – silly pups! Now, full and contented, they are snoring happily, and I am considering Decartes Theory of Knowledge – cos that’s just how we roll here

Image result for muddy fields The fields are in a state of disarray at the moment – big yellow diggers and machinery everywhere; it’s pollarding time! Frozen ruts, and clods of mud lie in wait for a toe stubbing or a stumble, or both in my case, one straight after the other! There is a sense of fear among the rabbits as their warrens get blocked by branches and scrub. So, we’ve been heading to the woods, where owls fly like pale spirits through the trunks, and the scent of deer lies strong on the ground. Approaching through the shadowy darkness (yes, even darkness has darker patches lol), a light – the Silent Jogger and his hound. We stop for a quick chat, his dog joining in. He admires the demons, and I launch into my usual spiel – insane, chaotic, not good pets, high prey drive etc, with SJ politely laughing along with my descriptions. His laughter changes tone, and in response, I look down at the beasts – these ferocious, untamed, feral demons. Ummm……yup, they are rolling in the mulch and mud, licking it off each other in sheer delight, and murmuring to each other happily. Gee thanks, bastard traitors – now, I’m a liar lol!

The barking  foxes scared the bejesus out of me last night – so close to the house, and so human like that they stopped me in my tracks. I paused, held my breath, and waited. Every call sounded like an attack, like someone in real trouble; then, a beautiful vixen appeared – sleek and sultry, out looking for her dog, and I relaxed, happy and content in the knowledge that nature surrounds me with its glorious heart-stopping beauty.

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After the fox/human scariness, when I put the demons out for last wees, I put their headcollars on – just in case. They ran hither and thither (*note to self – must use this phrase as often as possible – needs to be revived in the English language), noses to the ground, far too excited to settle down and get on with their bedtime routine. In the hedgerow at the bottom of the garden, I was slightly alarmed to see two pairs of green glowing eyes, one at human height!! But the bastard animal was halfway up a tree just to freak me out even more. And as the dogs got closer, it jumped down and made off through the woods with its mate, two adrenaline fueled malamutes and a weeble. Fortunately, the demons stopped before pushing through the brambles and ditches into the woods and beyond! What stopped them? It certainly wasn’t me hissing angrily, the tempting treat of biscuits from my pockets, or the sudden desire to behave – no, it was fucking badger crap for supper! Jeez, is it just me?

 

Busy busy day here – contract writery stuff and essay juggling! Fortunately the beasts had aImage result for the cheshire cat tiring walk, with sniffs galore, bunny holes to pee in and things to drag me to. In the distance we saw the lights of the Silent Jogger – cue bouncing on the spot before taking off at a gallop with me in tow. Fortunately, the cat in the tree stopped them; its Cheshire Cat grin smiling down at us, satisfied by its safety, and the chaos it was causing below, with green eyes blinking slowly in the torch light. Eventually we got home in one, rather weak and floppy, piece. They are snoring, I have coffee – all is calm (for now)

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