Going Gently

24 Hours In A & E

The Prof has gone to bed and I have been watching the channel 4 documentary " 24 Hours in A & E"
One part had me sobbing like a loon, though I knew I was crying more for Meg and less for the lady on tv with the ear infection.
George in his self contained and wise old way has just ambled up to me
He gave me his typical scottie " arrroooo!"
And climbed into my lap which he seldom ever does
And there he has stayed, offering his fat Buddha tummy for rubbing.
I have a small black Scottish Terrier guardian Angel who has more skills in psychological care than the average psychiatrist

He has the paws AND the heart of a bear

Leader Of The Pack

I wasnt going to blog about dogs again today but the subject seems to have reared its head again
tomorrow's post, I have promised myself WILL be about something different.....thank you for all of your comments, I have read each one with affection..indeed ....there were so many that blogger could not publish them all in one go!

There are stories aplenty that document the grieving of dogs for other dogs. We have lost four dogs in total, dogs that were clearly part of a pack, but I am yet to see any behaviour in any of the survivors which would make me think that grief was present. Sure the pecking order often changes, and I have seen minor squabbles erupt when power struggles start, but I have never seen a Greyfriers Bobby moment , even though I have perhaps wished for one.
William, was the dog that seemed closest to Meg. They would always lie together and play together and apart from sniffing meg's body briefly after I had laid her down on the floor on Monday morning , he has carried on as normal. Winnie , as I expected , didn't raise an eyebrow over the situation. Meg hated her and Winnie coped with that fact with bored alacrity. So that subtle bitch/ bitch tension has now disappeared from the cottage.
George's reaction, however has surprised me.
For it was George who sat down alongside Meg's body as she lay in the kitchen. It was George who watched carefully as I lay Meg into her grave between the rose bushes in the front garden and It was George who I caught sitting on the Meg's grave this morning after he had taken himself off into the garden as I did the washing up.
Could it be a canine awareness that Meg was around? .......Who knows.
Perhaps it's just familiar smells in disturbed earth that has attracted him
I am not a fan of giving human emotions to animals.
But his behaviour made me stop for a moment, tea towel in hand

George at the bottom of the garden

Bleaching The Fanny Flannel

Meg's death has hit The Prof rather hard today.
There is a reason for this I feel.
When It comes to the animals, I have always assumed the " traditional" 1950's housewife role, and in bleak times like we have now, I can get lost, just a little , in the minutia of caring for the group of characters with special needs.
The dogs still need to be fed, Albert still needs worming, and Winnie still needs her tuppence wiping by the hastily resurrected " fanny flannel" as just yesterday she has decided to come back into season.
Baby birds with their mouths open will keep a mother busy.
Unfortunately the Prof doesn't have that kind of luxury.

So this morning I took William to the groomers nice and early. He rolled his eyes in surprise when I opened the driver's door and told him to sit in the passenger seat as if it was almost as though he was waiting for Meg to beat him to it....but I needed the seat to be filled , and so I told him that it was all ok.
He sat up in rather a " full of himself" way....happy at the promotion.
It tugged just a little at the old heartstrings.

On the way home, I spied a familiar figure in a floppy hat walking down the Llanasa road and my heartstrings were tugged just a little more
It was Mrs Trellis and with her, walking gently to heel, was her new companion, a slender whippet cross called Blue.
Her face beamed as Blue said hello to me with typical whippet politeness and it was lovely to see the transformation a new dog had made to her life.

So, today, I have carer jobs to do. George and Winnie are waiting for their walk. I've got to refill the field's paddling pool as Camilla has just emptied it and after Winnie's sneaky " lie in" on our bed...the duvet cover is in drastic need of a hot wash!
Thanks to everyone who has emailed and have left comments for us regarding Meg.....everyone has
been so kind
Anyhow

I'll leave you with two more blogger entries to the NOVELTY VEGETABLE PHOTO COMPETITION........they are great are they not?....please keep your veg photos coming in.......they will lighten my day! ( to jgsheffield@hotmail.com)

My Co-Pilot

George and Meg as puppies

For the last ten years I have always had a diminutive co pilot.
For ever since her arrival at the cottage, Meg has always insisted that she sits next to me when we are out in the car. She has never left my side since.
The other dogs and even Chris have all bowed to her superiority when it came to her passenger position, and today, even in her weakened state, she insisted that she assumed her normal driving seat as we drove up to the vet's surgery on her final journey.
I cried quietly for all seventeen miles of the trip and the receptionist kindly ignored my blotchy face when we entered and informed me that the vet was running a " good few minutes late today" She asked us to take a seat, but I couldn't bear the wait in the impersonal, aseptic surroundings,
So I told the girl that we would just " pop out for a moment" and " would be back in ten minutes or so"....I lifted Meg back into her passenger seat, where she sat in her usual position. Back straight, head gently placed to one side facing me and off we went.
Even today, as she had always done, she watched my every move through tired brown eyes and as she did so, I rested my left hand gently around her face....

And for one final time, in a knackered old Berlingo full of egg boxes and discarded scotch egg wrappers....we drove around the country roads of North Wales together.

Back Off

The iconic stance of Chris Pratt fending off three raptors with just the power of his hands in Jurassic World seems to have taken the Internet by storm.....imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

Its not quite the same with a turkey, an old hen and a scottish terrier

And note....my fat arse is not quite as pert as Mr Pratt's

1001 things to do with a cucumber!

Ok, it's starting off in a slow trickle but the

Online novelty veg photo entries for the Flower Show

are arriving

I'm posting a couple today to wet your artistic juices

So arses into gear please

Entries to

jgsheffield@hotmail.com

Worth Seeing For The Pratt Alone

At the beginning of the story, Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) the corporate Manager of super theme park " Jurassic World" shares with her Billionaire Boss Mr Masrani ( Irrfan Khan) just why the company has bred a super aggressive hybrid dinosaur called the Indominus Rex

" kids are bored with ordinary dinosaurs " she explains in her power suit." They want something more"

She could have been quoting the modern day movie going audience, for after two decades of CGI , ordinary dinosaurs seem very old hat indeed!

And so the director and writers of Jurassic World have thrown everything but the kitchen sink at the audience. 24 thousand visitors are attacked by a flock of pterosaurs along main street. a whale sized sea dinosaur leaps out of a sea lagoon to bolt down a great white shark, and a swat team of dino killers are massacred in a scene reminiscent of Aliens.

We have the obligatory two kids in peril, a feisty female who outruns a T rex WITH HIGH HEELS ON and a sneering baddie ( Vincent D'Onofrio ) who gets his arm bitten off by a semi trained raptor

Yes...its all too much!

But...and there is a BIG but here ," Jurassic World" is just about saved by it's leading man, Chris Pratt. The slightly swaggering, cute as a button, strapping hunk of dino manhood, Pratt, dominates the action and provides the film with some much needed humour and rather good acting, especially in his scenes with Dallas Howard who he has some excellent on screen chemistry with.

It doesn't hurt that he's bloody lovely to look at either!

Sigh

Bunting In The Village Hall

We all need a bit of colour in our lives don't we?......and I have been wanting to buy some vintage bunting for the Flower Show for ages now. Yesterday the first lot was delivered, and this morning on a glum and overcast Friday , Sailor John , the Show Treasurer and I played around measuring yards of pretty cotton flags from window to window.

I think the bunting is perfect! It will transform the Show back to the 1950s where I want it to be!
Waiting for the drizzle outside to stop, I took a few photos around the Hall, mentally working out where everything was to placed at show time.