Puddles

So they think it's rather funny to call me Puddles... I'm old and cannot help it if my bladder will not hold out whilst they are out. I rather think that at night time I could bark and let them know I need a wee or actually have my last wee of the night instead of running round the corner pretending to go and running back in wanting my pre bed dentastick instead , but where's the fun in alerting them when it's more fun to see Twiggs mopping it up where I had deliberately moved the Puppy pads and weed on the carpet and guessing how long it takes for her bum face to implode.....

Nellie Age 13 & 5 months

Well not much has changed here, well I guess it has if you consider that Twiggs has more of a bum face than ever. The emo has moved out leaving more room on the sofa for me, downside being there are less biscuit crumbs as Twiggs is constantly attending fat club and I'm sure has taken to eating forbidden snacks in her wardrobe in secret...... 

I apparently so they say am getting doddery on my legs -Really? I can still run like a new born lamb on speed if I think maybe some thing has fallen in my food dish. 

My brindles have been kissed off my face leaving it white ( it's not grey and anyone who dares suggest that will be dribbled on).

I still sleep 23 hours a day, but now have more beds dotted about the house, which really should have happened from day 1, it's terrible being that hard done by.

Age is all in the mind- look at TBG 

- Twiggs often says she married him not adopted him or is the other way around?

Still here

I'm still here, some one - mentioning no names would rather sit at her easel messing with crayons than take dictation from myself..... 

Tiring Work

This morning at 3 dog chews past sleepy O'clock TBG started to rattle my lead at me, after rolling over on my comfy sofa under my snuggle blankie, I made the fatal mistake of opening an eye to which I had my collar put on - unfair advange methinks as I was still in post breakfast sleepy bye bye land........... and still in my funky glow in the dark P-jay-pjays.... well to be honest I am an ole lady and going outside in our night ware I guess comes with age. Any way he decides I am going to work with him, I didnt put up a fight as I had heard ole bumface filling a bag with gravy bones " for the trip" and hey at least at his place I get belly rubs galore and gravy bones, So I wasnt moaning... So off we tootle in the car, as least he had left the engine running to warm the car for me, ( more than he does for old bumface- score 1 to me! Not much occuring at work apart from belly rubs, ear scritches, head pats gravy bones, snoozes, then belly rubs, ear scritches, head pats gravy bones, snoozes. I thought he took me due to the fact I am so wonderfully brindilly and lovely he didnt want to be apart from me..... NO- i have been used, i hang my head in shame, he only took me as one visitor wants a dog ( theer was me getting all excited thinking i'd have a new mummy- one who shares chocolate and doesnt have a bum face, but oh no oh, no indeedy.... he took me to show her how lovelly we greyhounds are, how sweet we are, how affectionate we are... well I think she learnt that we sleep a lot, like gravy bones and clear a room in 30 seconds after breaking wind!!!! Its great that he took me, and even better that she is now going to go and let a greyhound adopt her.. but its tiring work having to do belly rubs, ear scritches, head pats gravy bones, snoozes....... yawny yawn yawn!!!!!

Beerchurches

Try and get me out for a walk and its : raining, cold, dark,a bit windy- snowing, a bit Autumny or theres a typhoon looming..its not really happening despite what ideas they may have deluded themselves with, it would seem they will never learn..if I run and face the wall...this still means I cannot see them, ( I am not a rabbit I do not have peripheral vision, so If im not looking at you, simple you dont exsist and I dont have to worry....Oh and when you wrestle me to the ground getting caught in the velcro of my coats tab and when I puff my neck out so you cannot do my collar up...maybe then you will get the message that I am not particually keen on going out for a walk at this precise moment in time perhaps? However... theer are times when I do rather like going out...Saturday mornings TBG takes me for a romp into town to the magic market stall of doggy wonderfulness, ( other wise known as the markets pet store).... so even if ole TBG is really busy and has no plans to visit town I will do the old eyeball sadface thing and adding extra doses of sighing and puffing like its my last day on earth and I have been denied a last meal......eventually he will feel awfuly sorry for me and whisk me jauntilly into town watching me ( the feeble ole lady that I am) jauntilly bounce like a demented kangeroo down the steps in the subway to granny heaven- thus called as old ladies are not very mindful of their shopping bags and never notice ole needle nose sneaking in a big wet snout and rummaging through their shopping bags and trying to snaffle something other than hemorrhoid cream. The pet stall...a nose explosion of smells and visual delights..well smells anyway Ole bum face tends to gag at the smell of dried tripe and piggy lugs, I dont think shes ever smelt her own breath in the morning somehow: It is a doggy sweet shop and TBG gets me a pick a mix in a blue bag, we then walk home with me glancing expectedly at him expectly, willing, hoping that the bag will explode on the way home and I can snaffle it all up before it hits the floor..failing this happening I get home as quickly as possible beacuse the quicker I get home, the quicker I get a piggy lug- no time for idle chit chat with himself gassing to old people about how lovely I am and that I am retired blah blah blah..I am like a toddler who has been told that the tooth fairy, easter Bunny and Santa are awaiting at home to throw me a party...BOOOOOM... sprinting up the road, ploughing small children and slow walkers out of the way , hurdling over pushchairs ( yes those thatwalk 2 abreast chattering oblivious that theers any one behind them...Home is where the piggy lug is and thats where I am going as quick as possible!!!!! Once home TBG is frisked until I am given my reward... I then have to chobble and mush it into the carpet and show them all my party trick where I pretend I have eaten it whole and have it stuck in throat and have to retch retch, ack ack ack....until It shoots out like an oyster on someones foot..then it gets rerubbed into the carpet before being demolished ready to be recycled and emitted as a toxic room clearing gas about 30 minutes later. The other place I like to go which you already know is the beer church...they have a new one called the Weavers, small and serves real ale, no lager or spirts which is great as it means only old poeple like these two go and we all know old people tend to drop more food than greedy kids..so more for me..and they have a big squishy squashy sofa for me to roach out on..oh and a table that I like to dance on in the hope that people will see how cute/thin/funny I am and reward me with bar snacks( ok so i look like Bambi on ice- it works)

A muse.......

I must apologise for large gap in my blogs, it would rather seem that I have been very let down by the Mardy red haired one... all she wants to do is play with crayons and colour in all day...... Let alone listen to me and type for me, she is more than aware that due to my incredible long quicks that I have long nails and cannot navigate a key board, does she care? No, she just sits on her ample bottom doing these Nellie Doodle things.. using me as a muse... A muse, I ask you- do I get extra belly rubs for the priveledge of her using me, ( yes I already know I am model material- but have you actually seen her drawings ?- do i actually have silly gangilly long legs? Do I have a silly pointy face like a giant mousey?) No and when she can be bothered to belly rub poor old mesome then I end up with paint on my brindles, which is never a fetching look at all. These brindles are fading fast and its nothing to do with meself being of the older houndy type: I blame her, I think for every doodle she uses me for, a brindle dissapears.....remind me to eat her paints tonight!!!!! Its tiring work being a model and its not as if I am not tired enough at all already.. So I send apologies and I will hold her pencils to ransom unless she helps me more.

Rushki's

So he has decided to come home then..... so no big good bye, a cuddle for ole bum face and a pat on the head for me- hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, rather the wrong way round me thinks.
TBG has just been to Russia ( I would say wher- but i cant spell it ( its not like he's a spy or summat and I cant say- the lummox isnt that clever !! )
So anyhooo I was left at home with the mardy one and the smelly one- JOY.
Twiggs seems to think my name is.. Getoutofthe kitchen and forcrapssakegetoutbeforeispillsummatoneyouGETOUTOUTOUT..... not a very nice name..I was only seeing if the cheese fairy had left anything for me- its not my fault they have a long galley kitchen is it ????
She took me for walks ( joy I must remember to put her on my xmas list for that, especially a big thanks for the walk in the rain !!)
The smelly one ( was Emo, then emoooooo - emotional cow- then pinkmoo- for the pink hair) Now she has green hair- a bit like Grotbags, so I shall call her the Smelly one as she would seem to take more baths than me, but doesnt seem to use soap somehow... Anyway the smelly one has taken over the dining room which is my domain, she takes over my sofa ( yes the one I had for my birthday) then has the cheek to moan when I sit next to her and Blow Nellie kisses with my bottom :) and she gets really annoyed when I stick my snout in front ofher lap top screen to have a gander what her and her stinky mates are putting on twitter/facebook/bebooooo and stuff.... amazing when they see one another they grunt and dont really speak then rush home to " Chat" on line all night.. I really like butting the screen and leaving Nellie snot on it :)
So i was left with these two bundles of joy all week wondering where the heck TBG had got to.... then ah-ha I knew he was due back as Twiggs was no longer cooking cabbage and broccoli but a proper meal and actually doing house work and making The Smelly one clear her stuff up.
Later than said and one burnt dinner ( probably tasted better) later.. TBG is home- HURRRAAAH ! mad wags and face licks all round- i know not very dignified but hey I was over come in case he'd brought me some duty free Bonios or summat... No nothing !!! No even one of those cool Rushski hats with the furry ear flaps... as well at least he's brought him self home to rescue me from a life of boredom with the mardy ones.. i LOVE YOU TBG x x xx