Summer, what summer?

Are you sure I need this. It's the end of May

Walking Monkey in the wind is like taking an octopus out on a leash while it is having electroconvulsive therapy. Star jumps every two steps as the wind gusts, fences creak and bits of vegetation come hurtling past. Four attempts to toilet thwarted by a sudden blast of cold air.
Today we also had to don our winter coats and I think Monkey was a little bemused by this.
Been a while since the last post I know - but the good news is that the bathroom has now been decorated.
Life has carried on much as before with Monkey slowly getting to grips with domestic life. Bedtimes are a breeze (perhaps the wrong word to use today) with Monkey coming into the kitchen when called. I still give him the chicken treat. I know, but hey, it makes me feel better about putting him away for the night.
Feeding has now moved totally into the kitchen as well, with Monkey coming when called. I still step out of the room and shut the door but he has allowed me to stay while he ate. Mind you I had to stare out of the window as he stopped when he caught me sneaking a peek.
Early mornings are now totally under control as I let Monkey out straight away and he trots off to do his business. We went through a spell of him pretending to go when I took him in the garden on the leash. He would stretch out as though he was going and look at me to see if I had fallen for it. Now though he's out the door, brisk walk, wee and back for grooming in no time.
He is also coming into the hall when he hears me pulling on a jumper ready for a walk - although it makes me sad when he comes out and it's just me going out. Having said that when he hears me putting my cycling gear on he doesn't move from his day bed.

 

We have added tents to the list of 'things that Monkey has to avoid', last weekend while on a walk at a nearby lake some fishermen were camping and there was a row of tents. The first one was a step to the side to get around but by the third he was digging his paws in and practically had to be carried past.
I think that secretly pleased the LOTH as she now has yet another excuse for never going camping.
It makes me wonder where all these fears have come from. Some I can understand such as the transit vans and hi-vis coats from his greyhound racing days but tents?

Squirrels are nutters - it's official

There was more than a whiff of squirrel in the back garden this morning when I headed out at 7.30am - there was in fact A SQUIRREL sitting on the top of the fence as casual as you like.

I charged across - ears and tail upright in my best aggressive pose - expecting him to disappear over the fence and out of the garden to safety. Them's the rules of the game, after all.

Not this one.

He started to run like greased lightning along the top of the fence with me keeping pace alongside the bottom of the fence.

Now when I got to the far side of the garden I had to stop because a barricade of recycling bins next to the bike shed were in my way. Any sensible squirrel (if there is such a beast) would have continued running along the top of the fence to the front of the house and safety...leaving me to growl "Curses - foiled again!".

Not this tree rat.

As soon as I skidded to a halt bin-side, he stopped above me too - turned round on his tail and ran back the way he'd come. So, of course, I took off like a rocket too.

Within seconds he was at the far end of the fence where it joins our neighbour's garden (sorry about that last fence panel by the way, guys!) and he was again faced with a perfect escape route which he couldn't fail to take....surely?

Not this crackpot squirrel.

He turned tail and headed back along the top of the fence towards the bins.

I think you have probably got the picture now. This continued for another dozen times with us both bounding backwards and forwards around the perimeter of the garden, separated only by the height of the fence panels. My eyes never left him as he motored like a demented Davy Crockett hat on little legs along the top of the fence.

To complete the picture across the road a white cat sat in an upstairs window with a perfect view - his head going backwards and forwards like a tennis fan on centre court at Wimbledon.

I think I vaguely remember hearing the Lady Of The House shout "WINNIE!!!" but I was too far gone to take any notice.

Eventually, the squirrel disappeared over the edge of the fence from site.

That was that - we all thought.

But clearly he hadn't had enough of a daily workout. When I came back from my morning walk and went out into the garden for my daily brushing with the grooming mitt, the cheeky blighter was on the pear tree.

I took off from the doorstep in a single bound and chased him across the grass...a tantalising whisker's length away from his tail. This time there was a definite "WINNIE!!!!!!!!" behind me.

I'll get you next time - given half a chance

He got away - just.

Curses - foiled again.

Coffee for cats?

The Lady Of The House keeps muttering about 'tidying up', and she's making sure I get brushed with my grooming mitt in the garden every day this week - all because she's got some friends and neighbours round on Friday for a coffee morning.

It's not just any coffee morning, it's part of the World's Biggest Coffee Morning fundraiser by Macmillan Cancer Support.

I think cakes may be on the menu, from what I hear, but personally give me a pig's ear or a cow's ear any day of the week.

Me tucking into a cow's ear

I can't imagine why anyone would want to drink coffee. It smells very suspect to me. But apparently coffee, along with bacon and eggs and broccoli, contributed to the longevity of a couple of the oldest cats who ever lived.  Sounds like another EXCELLENT reason not to like coffee if you ask me.

Grooming sessions that are not to be sneezed at

I LOVE being brushed I do.

I love being brushed with the grooming glove

When we race greyhounds get used to being groomed and it usually makes us very patient and quite happy with these kind of attentions. I am happy to have my teeth checked and cleaned and I let my family check my paws regularly as well as grooming me.

The grooming glove is really comfy and as my coat is only short, and one layer, it doesn't take long to get rid of some loose hairs in the garden after my morning walk.

I do still shed some hair in the house and on my beds - but I'm also quite happy to watch my family run round with the vacuum cleaner. I'm not a dog who makes a fuss about it. I'm quite used to home life.

Oh! And apparently greyhound hair is far less likely to make people sneeze. Both the Lady Of The House and the Man Of The House are a little bit allergic to pet fur but my hair doesn't give them any trouble.

See you tomorrow