Wot I fink about stuff

I kno this hard to believe, but she got some other intrests than MEEE!  Obvs I is her fave in the whole wurld, followed by him and the Sistas and the BOYfrend wots dad is a pleece dog handler and then those stoopid CATS (bottom of the pile, harhar).

Wot she like is: readin, gardenin and drinkin red wine.  Coz she is good at multitaskin (AKA a WOMAN) she can do two of these fings at the same time, but not all three of them.  The red wine is the common denominator (big word wot I can’t spell but she can).

Wiv the readin and the drinkin red wine, I fink wot she is doin is not payin enuf attenshun to ME.  So wot I do is I sneek up (well more like leap up) next to her on the sofa in the kitchin and then I wriggles up wiv my head between her and the page and then I wriggle sum more.  If she readin a book she still manage to read and stroke me absent-mindedly.  Is more fun if a magazine or a noospaper coz then I can scrunch the page or dribble on it before she read it.  In an ideal world I can also spill her red wine all over her too so she say OMG Tammie wot a bloody waste! #labbyskills.

In the garden I has a diffrent tactic.  I let her get into a flower bed and start weedin and diggin, wiv her red wine balanced on a nearby convenient flat surface wiv a doily fing on top wot her frend made to keep the bugs out.  She have her head down and her bottom up, harharhar.  Then I bring my ball and drop it near her, qwite qwietly, and I waits, lookin hopeful and cute.  Wen she has had enuf diggin and weedin (yoozherly about 5 mins coz it tirin) she look up and see MEEEE!  OMG Tammietoesies you are so adorable she say, wot a good girl you are helpin mummy.  So she frow the ball and I has her by the short and curlies (wot they?) and she have to keep playin with me rather than doin borin gardenin.  #gardensisfordogsnotweedin.

She say it is her office, but ackshewally it is MY bedroom.  She have a desk wiv lots of bits of paper on it, and lots of bits of paper underneef it and on the floor too.  She has clearly not heard of the paperless society.  Mostly she just sit there and fiddle around wiv her computer and sumtimes she say FFS you stoopid bloody machine.  He have a desk in here too but he go out to work sumwhere else mostly. 

My bed, wot she got me before I came, is a very tasteful grey and red tartan (does she fink I’m Scottish?  I am not wun of those little Scottie dogs wot sells whisky, I is a Labbiedor).  Underneef it is my fleece wot Dere Unkle Roy and Arntie Soo give me, underneef that is the floor.  And underneef the floor, right underneef my bed and the fleece, is a central heating pipe wot makes my bed even more cozy.  In my bed is her fleece wot she give me when I couldn’t sleep at night when I first came.  She is a big softie. 

Yoozherly there is also some toys in here, and always a bowl of water coz when the hoomans go to bed at night I am shut in here, like I am in PRIZUN, so those stoopid cats can have the run of the house.  Snot fair.

I rite in shame.  I woke her at 7.20 this mornin, wot is early at the weekend, by woofin, so she gave me my Bonio brekkie and let me out in the garden.  Then she drink tea and read the papers.  At 8.30 Willis (big stoopid black and white cat) come in throo downstairs catflap and she fink WTF where is dog?  After walkin round the garden and the field in her dressin gown four times, shoutin my name and probs wakin up ALL neighbours, she wake up Sista 2 and her BOYfrend wots dad is a pleece dog handler and evryone go out seachin for me while he wait home in case fone ring (harhar, we all kno he took easy opshun). 

Evenshually, BOYfrend wots dad is a pleece dog handler find me qwite close to where her mother used to live.  Me and BOYfrend wots dad is a pleece dog handler go home coz I is desperate to see her.  BOYfriend wots dad is a pleece dog handler is 6’5” and I am 2’2” and he didn’t have my lead so he had to walk home with me bent double so he could hold my collar harhar.  He got bad back now.  She not pleezed but I woz so happy to see her.  NO WUN kno how I got out.  So I have sleep on kitchin sofa and then she take me for a walk (she lost my ball over a fence, she BAD dog mummy), and I have bad tummy.  So now she is starvin me on rice and maybe some chicken later with more bloody rice.  They is all releeved I am safe, they keeps cuddlin me and sayin oh Tamzie pleese don’t do dat again, we was so worrid.  I am just bloody hangry and want proper food.

Can I come back?  Even other stoopid dogs better than bloody rice and chicken.  And I only got bad tummy becoz I ate somefing rong.  I is a Labrador, its genetic innit?

S

You might know that Labradors is a speshul breed.  Basically my ancesters came from Newfoundland, wot is a long long way away from Ingerlund, and is a very cold place.  Wot them Labbies used to do was jump in the water off fishing boats and collect the fish wot their owners was fishing for and bring them back to the boats.  (I fink they probably ate some of them fish themselves).

Just to complicate matters further, there is a dog breed called Newfoundland.  Them dogs is very big and fluffy and they even has webbed feet!  They used to catch fishes too, but nowadays they are used for rescuing people like them big fluffy St. Bernards.  Difference is, them St. Bernards carry a little barrel of brandy round their necks.  She wonders why I can’t carry a wine box round mine?  I fink that a bit extreme.  However, both Newfoundlands and St. Bernards dribble like mad and evry time they shake their head there is dribble EVRY where.  I only dribble at mealtimes.

Then some Inglish mi’lord bring some Labbies back to Ingerlund so they can retrieve peasants and other game birds after they shoot them.  Eating them peasants and other game birds is WRONG, so they bred them dogs to retrieve and give the stuff back.

Anyway, I digress.

Now, them dogs might have thought the sea off Newfoundland was cold, all wot I can say is they need to try the English Channel in January!  However, I am not a wuss AT ALL so wot I really like is when she throw a tennis ball into the sea and I go in and get it and bring it back and she do it all over again and again and again.

Us Labradors have virtually waterproof coats so we just like to get as wet as possible, then we can bring all the wet and the mud and the sand into the house when we gets home.

Swimmin itself is a bit tricky.  Wot happens is, you go in the sea and you are runnin and then suddenly you are ackshewally swimmin becoz there is no ground under your paws.  Wot I do then is, I stick my head up high and frantically thrash my front paws around and then I see my ball and I catch it and turn for home.  This seem perfickly reasonable to me, but she larf and larf evrytime I does it and make her stoopid ‘joke’ about breasting the waves and waving the breasts.  This is apparently becoz I swim like a gurl (well, dur….). 

I fink, if you close your eyes a little and use some imagination, I most closely resemble Ursula Undress comin out of the sea in Dr. No (not that I am vain or anyfink but evryone say how very pretty I am.  And is TROO).  Anyway then I gets onto dry land and makes her throw the ball again and again and again. 

Re the wet and the mud and the sand in the house:  she dry me with a towel, and then she take my collar off (so I don’t get a stiff neck from wearin a wet collar, I fink this is ridickerless but I humour her) and then OMG she puts me into a bloody DRESSING GOWN!!  It is a speshul dressing gown for wet dogs wot she bought for me off the internet, it go over my head and along my back and she tie the two strings into a bow on the top of my back.  It is made from MikeRowFiba.  She don’t like MikeRowFiba, says it makes her hands feel funny, but she do it for ME (softie). 

Ackshewally this process take a while as I like to spread the wet and the mud and the sand as far as I can so I wriggle and roll over a lot, but she eventually manage it.  Then I run around like mad and evryone go OMG Tammie you are so funny, yuck bugger off you are all wet, and then in about 45 minutes I am all dry and silky again.  Wot is really good is if you can sit on the sofa with the hoomans while you are still damp enough to make them damp, and bonus points for smell of WET DOG.

In fact, my dressing gown is red and it suits me very well, not that I am vain or anyfink, but evryone say I look gorgeous in it.  And is troo.  I qwite like it, especially when I have rolled on the doormat in it and then on my bed.  Did I tell you about my bedroom?  I have my own…

They is all a bit weird.  They sing to me.  She started it, wiv a stoopid song about ‘my dog is the greatest dog that the world’s ever seen’.  There is no choon, it came from a moosical birthday card which is ridickerless in itself.  Also, she cannot sing to save her life.  Still does it though (and when Sista 1 was a tiny puppy, she used to cry when she sang to her – I totes get that but wouldn’t do it myself because it is ROOD.  And I am not a ROOD dog). 

There’s a song by a band called the Jumpers or the Pullovers or the Cardigans or somefing (wot is on a TV ad at the moment) which go ‘love me love me say that you love me’ and she sing this one too.  I qwuite like that one becoz it is all about MEEEEE.

Sista 2 invented ‘Jammie Tammie’ wot is an ABBA song I fink to do wiv money (she sing ‘Tammie Tammie Tammie must be jammy in a Labby world’ – don’t fink Agnetha, Benny, Bjorn or the other one would reckernise it if I am qwite honest). 

The Beatles woz a famous band long before I was even born.  She sing me one of of their choons, I fink it is called ‘All You Need is Labs, Labs, Labs, Labs Is All You Need’.  Troo fact dat, Labs is all you need.

She also sing ‘Stand by your Tam, stand by your Tam’ – would be better if she sat by her Tam and cuddled me I fink.  And ‘in a tavern, in a banyan, escalating for a vine, lived a whiner with a shiner and his Labbidor, oh my darling crocodile’.  She quite insane.

She like someone called David Boooeee, wot is dead (poor David Boooeee).  Today she listenin to somefing called Piggy Stardust where he sing about a ‘cat from Japan’.  That stoopid, shame he did not meet ME.  But he do a song called Diamond Dogs, that one much better.  A diamond collar would look good on ME.

When she go out in the car without me I sit on the kitchin window seat so I can put dog snot on the windows (harhar).  EVRY time she come back she sing ‘how much is that doggie in the window the one with the waggly tail’.  Like I said earlier, I is the L’Oreal dog: I is worth it.

Then she go all opera on me – starts singing ‘beat out that rhythm on a Lab, beat out that rhythm on a Lab’ while patting my tummy to a choon from Carmen Jones, wot is an opera based on another opera.  Culture, innit.

Did I menshun she can’t sing?  Sounds reely reely dredful, but I has to suck it up coz she mean well.  Sumtimes I covers my ears…. And she fink that is really sweet but ackshewally is coz she might STFU and then I might get a biccie.

She ackshewally work for a pet food company.  You’d fink this was good, I would get loads of freebies and be a test dog for everyfing new wot comes  on the market, rite? 

Nah, it’s all about serious nootrition and balanced diets an all that shit… so I get a special Labrador food twice a day, seven days a week, amount as advised on the packet for my weight (which is perfick I’ll have you kno) .  It called Labrador Retriever Sterilised, I say wot, they sterilise my food??  And she say no dingbat it coz YOU is sterilised (that spade fing).  Bein sterilised apparently makes us dogs less active and more inclined to gain weight.  They got it wrong about the activity levels, I can run and run and run all day long.  The food very nice, but I’m a Lab, rite, so am genetically a dustbin.  Thank god for cat poo in the garden and dead fings on the beach or I might ackshewally reely and truly starve!

She doesn’t ackshewally starve me, she wouldn’t do that.  So I gets a Bonio for breakfast every day, then my nutritionally perfickly balanced food for Labby Lunch and Labby Tea (and you can be quite shore, I can tell the time on a digital and an analogue clock and of course my very reliable own body clock.)  And then at bedtime I get a treat wot is supposed to be good for my teeth – don’t care, it taste good.

And she even weigh out my recommended portion on the scales evry day, this is like unheard of but she say being a FAT Lab is a bad fing, what with genetic propensity to weight gain and joint problems (WTF she talkin about???  Just feed me biatch!  She don’t kno I am finking like this becoz she fink she has trained me to sit down before my food – obvs I just does it so she don’t witter on about nootrition any longer than necessary). 

Sundays is good, wot is Sardine Sunday when I get a Sardine added to my kibble.  Dere Unkle Roy and Arntie Soo always did this once a week and she such a softie that she continue the tradition.  I have an immaculately shiney and silky coat, am sure it is the Sardine once a week wot does it, but she say it is down to my nootritionally balanced Labbie food wot I eat all day every day.  Doesn’t matter, I’m a Lab, I would eat ANYFING (and I probs already have…)

One fing wot I like to do is find a cuddly toy and carry it round the house.  This make evryone fink I am really sweet and soooooo cute and adorable.  And also very pretty (evryone always fink that, not to be vain or anyfink but is TROO).  Then I sit down with it and cuddle it, and evryone fink I am finking of my missing puppies (wot I had as a teenage mum) and so they get sad and then they give me a cuddle and maybe a biccie – winner winner chicken dinner!

D

I am not shore about this Xmas stuff, they seem to be very bizzy all the time and there is big boxes under the tree (WHY bring a tree indoors? trees is outdoors stuff – I haven’t weed on it yet but there is still time…) and some of them boxes are for me but mine is put away where I can’t reach them. Only three for me, that not much is it?

Today she took me to the beach and I got very wet – so did she harharhar. She fell into a kind of pothole on the sand and it splashed all up her legs like wot she had wet herself.  She had to get undressed in the porch when we got home harharharhar.

She still larf when I swim, says I look like a gurl (I IS a gurl, dur) and says I am ‘breasting the waves or waving the breasts’. This must be a hooman joke coz I don’t get it but she snigger every time she say it.  Sad.

Anyway, I hope you have a very happy Krissmass and Noo Year and I am looking forward to seeing Arntie Soo and Harley (more Arntie Soo akshewly, hoomans being more on my interleckshual level).

With lots of lurrrve Tammie xxx

D

That spade thing was rubbish – no bucket!!  (That’s her joke, apparently hooman puppies like to take a bucket and spade to the beach, it’s fun they say.  Can’t see the benefit, or the funny side, myself, but as she is doing the typin I’ll let her have her little ‘joke’).

No Cone of Shame, so I managed to pick my stitches very effectively.  Several vet trips later and it’s all better.  Cost her a fortune though, harhar.  I am the L’Oreal dog: I am worth it. 

Lix, Tammie

C

In the immortal words, almost, of the great Bruce Springsteen*: “Cats, wot is they good for?  Absolutely nuthin, huh, say it again…“

Wot cats do is basically annoy dogs.  They is not dogs, they is smaller and sleeker and more cunnin.  And they has very sharp claws and they hiss and spit, wot is ROOD.  Any dog worth its salt would stand on or bounce at any cat they see.  I try to do this but she don’t like it and in fact she tell me off.  I don’t get much chance as the cats is upstairs while I patrol downstairs.  That mean the cats sleep upstairs with the hoomans, snot fair.  AND they get to go in and out through a cat flap wot leads onto a flat roof where they sit in the sun and sneer at me in the garden.  Cats is bastards.

Her old dog Ozzie, wot was dead before I came (poor Ozzie), was besties with Sootie.  Sootie is like a black panther wot has been tumble dried too hot and has shrunk.  Sootie used to snuggle up with Ozzie and lick his face and pretend to be all nice.  Ozzie must have been a complete wuss and reely fick is all wot I can fink.

Sootie is ackshewally the devil incarnate, he act all nicey nicey but then whack people, even Sista 2 whose cat he is.  Yet they still like him?  I don’t get it.

There is also Stanley, wot belong to Sista 1 and Willis, wot used to live with her mother before she died (poor mother) (not HER, her mother obvs, else where would I be?)  Stanley and Willis are almost igzactly identical, even the hoomans can’t tell them apart most of the time.  I can see an opportunity there to stand on at least one of them before she notice.

She say I will behave better with them in the summer when the doors and windows is open and I won’t be able to patrol the downstairs cat flap all the time and bounce at CATS.  She might be right, but I will still try.

*Bruce Springsteen is known as The Boss.  This is confoosin, because in my view she is the boss and then he talk about The Boss and I don’t fink she has ever reached the top of the popular music charts?