More Malamute Adventures (& one that however hard I try, I can’t blame on the dogs)

My beasts never fail to amaze me – often in an embarrassingly bad way, but today they were fab. I met up with a Kent group of mally and sibe owners for a group walk locally. 18740677_10159235103050497_3293180578611957350_nBeing that it was too warm to do much for me and the demons, I thought I’d just pop along to say hello, then meet them at the end (dashing home for coffee in between lol). I had warned everyone that mine could be…..um a tad over-exuberant and hadn’t quite grasped the etiquette of a meet ‘n’ greet situation, but yet again, they let me down! They were brilliant – greeting every dog fairly calmly, and even, dare I say it, even wanting to play (tentatively) with the only other malamute there! Now, I look like a liar lol

UPDATE: We went back to meet everyone after their walk, and found them sitting outside my local, recovering in the shade. And I am pleased to report that the beasts (not breasts, please note – **for new readers, see comments below regarding my breasts – I do not bring them up in conversation without serious cause – I am embarrassed for my filthy minded friends 😉  – and for blog readers, my posts are released on Facebook first) were still in the mood for love, not war. Hamish did decide, however, that the other malamute was a bit scary and needed growling at – my giant wuss then hid his head between my knees – a dog to be proud of lol

****Offensive Content Warning***
Today’s walk is brought to you by the letters ‘Fucking Hell’ and ‘Thought I’d never get home’! Today, I fell down a ditch – not any old ditch, mind, the ditch from hell. Deeper than me, with near vertical sides, half full of rank water, and rocks – which my head said a far too intimate hello to. There were brambles, nettles, probably glass, almost certainly dead things, and skeletons of previous ditch victims. Dizzy, wet, with blood dripping Image result for cliff faceeverywhere (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration), I weighed up my options. I have a team of strong sleddogs here, who pull all the time – this should be easy! I’ll just ‘hike on’ and they can pull me out! However, ‘Hike on, dogs’ apparently means lie down and relax these days. I threw the last biscuit in my pocket in the hope that they would chase after it – nope, they missed that one. Fucking hell, there were no branches to grab onto, the gate post was too far to throw a lead round it and pull myself out. I climbed, and slid down, 7 or 8 times, and had all but given up, awaiting my fate. They would find a sad corpse, with two loyal starving, barely alive malamutes Image result for skeleton lying downwaiting, ever patient, for me to return to them – yeah right! One last ditch attempt (pardon the pun lol) and with much scrambling, sliding, and relief, I made it out! I survived! The dogs, immune to any distress, shook themselves and pulled towards home – fucking bastards, now they sodding ‘hike bloody on’! I have a nasty cut across my knee (which was the dodgy one anyway), countless scratches, thorns, bruises, and lumps, and a severe and long lasting disappointment in my so-called sleddogs ;). Lassie would’ve helped, if Hamish hadn’t eaten him/her/who knows first.

A follow up to yesterday’s apparently hysterical misfortune – still containing potentially offensive language 😉
In order to unplug the laptop, I have to crawl under the table – normally not a problem. However, last night I had to slide off the sofa to the floor, and because I couldn’t bum shuffle as my knee had failed me, I had to wriggle worm like across the floor. The demons thought this was great fun and insisted on joining in – fucking hell, it was much less fun for me! Anyway, eventually I crawled into bed, and got vaguely comfy – I couldn’t turn over, so I sort of lay there, stuck all night. This morning, I, with much ‘steady on’ing, and ‘Fucking stooooop’ing made it round the fields. Fortunately, the buns had taken pity on me and respectfully hopped back to their burrows on sight. As I approached the scene Related imageof yesterday’s horror, I swear I heard an evil chuckle, and when I stared down into it – from a safe distance, plus some, the ditch definitely smirked – fucking bastard! It’s times like this that make me wish I had someone, but I’m home now, housework done, dogs sleeping, coffee made, and I’m quite glad it’s just me lol. At least there’s no one to laugh at me trying to stand up because my bastard, fucking, shitting knee has seized up in protest!

 

A pretty eventful walk this morning; after opening the back door, the dogs, as usual pinged to the end of their leads, but Pagan kept running with no ping! Fortunately, it confused her as much as me, and she ran back when I called. Back inside, a hasty repair was made to her lead eg added another clip and off we went. Both beasts were puzzled by the extra jingling coming from Pagan’s neck, which elicited extra boundy excitement. The walk itself was hot and humid, with the demons sharking through the dew soaked grass in absolute delight. We emerged through the bushes surrounding the cricket pitch, only to come upon Gertie, the Pink Jack Russell!!! We haven’t seen her, or her Grunting Owner for months. This apparently vicious little girlie, who has to be muzzled when around other dogs, immediately jumped on Hamish for licky snogs, and Pagan danced for joy. The demons didn’t last long in the heat and were soon piles of panting fluff on the grass, but Gertie kept leaping on their backs; all three were in doggy heaven. Meanwhile, Grunting Owner grunted, and I tried to keep the potential deadly tangle of leads untangled, not wanting a repeat of the Maypole Incident that is eternally etched on my brain. The beasts are now snoring, and I have coffee!

 

The Last Few Weeks – catch up

Pagan is such a hard bitch that she doesn’t even shake the water off after a swim Image result for grrlanymore – she drip dries and doesn’t care! Unlike wussy Hamish who doesn’t do the whole getting wet thing mmmmkay

For the last two weeks, right by the field gate, there have been two young buns; they sit close to each other nibbling on the grass, quite happy in each others company. On seeing us, one runs to his nearby burrow, the other has further to go – down the track for several hundred yards before reaching the safety of home. This happens every morning, and every morning the beasts go wild, as though it’s never happened before. I always wonder if the second bun has no local friends – mates in his ‘hood, if he has ideas above his station, going to see his posh mate in the bigger, better situated burrow, or is just hangin’ with the cool clique? If I look closely, will I see eyeliner, crimped fur, and little Siouxsie and the Banshees tee shirts? Are they the Goth kids? I wonder sometimes if my view is tainted by my own youth – nope, obviously not at all lol

 Not sure if it was Bunny Party Night last night, or just lots of slutty buns just wanting a quick fumble, but this morning there were rabbits everywhere; hopping out of one

Party Bunny by Mythal
by Mythal

burrow, running along in front of us for a few hundred metres, before diving gratefully into another. It was sheer chaos, and with the mud underfoot, there were a few choice words uttered/yelled/screamed lol. But we made it home and now they are snoring away, and I’m knackered – obviously far too knackered to start revising for hours lol

 More revision today – not sure if it’ll make any sense in the end, but it’s jogging my memory on what we’ve studied so far. A damp, humid plod this morning; Pagan keep her flag waving til the end, but Hamish dropped his half way round – it was just too muggy. He’s now collapsed in the kitchen without even a song! Of course, there may also be an element of sulking after I unintentionally flattened his tail when removing his headcollar. That woke him up – whoopsie, I’m a bad mummy lol

 Today, I must study, must make readable, understandable notes, use a highlighter (or several) and maybe even coloured pens too. I have tiny Post It notes (as ever, huge thanks to their inventors, Romy and Michelle) to stick, probably randomly by this stage, throughout my notes. And I must get it through my head that stationery, which I love, Image result for stationerydoes not mean the same as stationary, which, confusingly, I also love – today the two must be separated and one left out in the rain. Talking of which, it was a hot, steamy and wet (not in a good way!) trudge this morning; Pagan just plowed on, sharking through the long, rain soaked grass, while Hamish took great pleasure in brushing past me at every opportunity – sharing the delights of wet legs (again, not in a good way). But now they are snoring away, in contented piles of doggy dreams, and I have coffee, text books, and a reluctant brain lol

 Now is obviously the season of the Thickie Rabbit! Ignorant to the teeth bearing down on them, they hop leisurely along the path, pausing every now and then to sit up and sniff the air. Every day has that lazy, stretchy bank holiday feeling for the Thickie Bun. But not for me – being dragged along by frothy mouthed, wild eyed, barely tamed demons is not the best fun in the world! Bloody bunnies – Beatrix Potter don’t know them too well, do she!
P.S. Just a pondering, but of course it could be that Clever, Sneaky Rabbit is drawing the beasts away from her burrow of kits? Am I doing her a disservice? My shoulders say who cares the outcome is the same – ouchie!

 Well, that’s it – the last assignment for this module has been submitted, so now I can relax? ……Oh no, not at all…EXAM coming up fast. So revision it is……and coffee! The beasts are both so good when I have to work, or have my head in a book, manically making notes; they will play together, with only the minimal input from me. They let me know that they want my attention in subtle, affectionate ways – Pagan will throw a toy at my head with pinpoint accuracy, and Hamish will make a sudden leap onto my shoulders from behind, with less accuracy, and more violence. Fortunately this only happens………all fucking afternoon, the little bastards

 How To Tell if You Have a Malamute by Anon

  1. Take your dog to the backyard; have him sit (good luck) about ten yard from you, facing you, of course, and begin to call him by his/her name and every other endearment term you have for him/her. If the dog gets up and goes directly opposite to you: You might have a Malamute.
    2. Start by sitting your dog same way as before. Roll a tennis ball to him/her. If he/she watches the ball go bye with a mildly curious look on his/her face: You might have a Malamute.
    3. Repeat the above sitting exercise. Take a frisbee and gently toss it at him/her. If you hit the dog square between the eyes: You might have a Malamute.
    4. Repeat the above sitting exercise. Produce a bag of chips. If the sound of the bag being open makes him/her come to you to see what you are going to eat: You might have a Malamute.
    5. If he/she consistently destroys toys, bed spreads, furniture, etc. and then looks puzzled when you get on to him/her: You might have a Malamute.
    6. If he/she rushes to the door when the bell rings acting like a savage werewolf, but then does everything he/she can to get the visitor to pet hi/her: You might have a Malamute.
    7. If you are leaving for work in your car and prior to backing out of your drive way you spot him/her looking at you through a window the same way passengers of the Titanic looked at the last life boat being launched: You might have a Malamute.
    8. If you are trying to sit down on a couch and he/she beats you to it: You might have a Malamute.
    9. If the conditions around the food bowl looks like a tornado just hit the area: You might have a Malamute.
    10. If you are feeling sick and he/she stays by your side for hours on end without moving: You might have a Malamute.
    11. If he/she behaves completely different that every book on Malamutes say he/she should: You might have a Malamute.
    12. If he/she continues to be a lap dog even though he/she now weighs well over 100 pounds.
    13. If you let him/her go outside and he/she immediately goes looking for every squirrel he/she can find to run it up a tree: You might have a Malamute.
    14. If a visitor tries to lift your baby or grandbaby off the floor and he/she smiles at him showing every tooth God gave him/her: You might have a Malamute.
    15. If you have a dog hair factory operating inside your home: You might have a Malamute.
    16. If you love him/her despite all of the above and would not trade him/her for any other dog: You might have a Malamute.
    17. If you think you own this dog, but in reality, he/she owns you: You might have a Malamute.
    18. If he/she sleeps in way that contorts his/her body better than a Cirque de Soleil acrobat can: You might have a Malamute
    I hope you find the above list helpful.

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 Beginning to drag myself out of the pit that I’ve been residing in for the last few weeks – the screaming is still there, but it is receding slightly. So today, with a clean-ish house, and a not-so-clean mind, I will study. We had a lovely walk along the river, accompanied by a pair of rather curious swans. We watched the buzzards circling, the plovers running out of the crops where they were nesting, and the occasional plop of a water vole taking a swim. It was quiet, peaceful perfection – the beautiful symmetry of the natural world, the symbiotic lives working in harmony, each having its own role, yet existing in co-dependency. Until we found a fresh pile of horse crap – then it was ruined! lol

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