Tuesday, 30 November 2010

The second coming

Well, major changes once again in the world of this particular puppy, but before I get to that just give me a moment or two to bring you up to speed on the events of the last few months.

Biggest event was the long man, clippy cloppy woman, little people and I going on our first family holiday together. When I heard we were going away I took a look at the holiday pictures from the pre-puppy days and so was looking forward to sun, sea, sand, sangria and sniffing. Dreams of far flung, exotic locations filled my nights in the run up to our departure. Imagine my disappointment when, early in the morning on the day we were to leave, I was bundled into the back of the metal box thingy, crammed between a suitcase, a rucksack and a fishing rod, and driven hundreds of miles across the most inhospitable terrain this side of Kandahar to spend a week in a bloody tent at the foot of an enormous mountain. I thought we'd joined the Mudjahadin until I saw the launderette and playground.

The little people and I had a fantastic time climbing up the aforementioned mountain, known as Snowdon and apparently the highest mountain in the country. It was very exciting, with gun men and helicopters and explosions and white knuckle near misses, but we survived to tell the tale. Honestly. Check it out here.

Another major event of the summer was the arrival of another of those bloody horrible, smelly Vespa things. This one intended for the clippy cloppy woman so she could join the long man on his noisy, smelly rides. I don't know if it's a coincidence but the long man, soon after this purchase, decided he didn't want his Vespa any more and has put it ip for sale. He's since bought an enormous beast of a motorcycle, a Triumph, saying he needs it to get to work quicker. I doubt "need" comes into it. It's bigger, faster, heavier and scarier than the scooter it replaces. That man seems determined to take the most ridiculous chances with his personal safety. That's all well and good, but does he take into consideration what might happen to me after he's crashed through the pearly gates backwards and in a fireball? Does he balls.

And now for the BIG news. Okay, I'm being a bit sarcastic here, and you've probably guessed already, but the long man and I have, once again, been exiled to the dirty old town of Salford. The long man and the clippy cloppy woman had spent much of the previous several months arguing about really important matters. It got to the point where you'd have been forgiven for believing that they were only happy when they were shouting. Not great for the nerves I must admit but the house was just about big enough for me to avoid them pretty much all of the time. Then one Sunday evening they had a massive bust up about a pizza and the long man being "stupid". In all honesty I can't see as how the long man had a leg to stand on arguing against that particular point but argue he did. The result... Salford. Not just for him, for me too. I don't even LIKE pizza and I wholly agree that he's as bright as a bag of spanners, but did that save me. Harrumph.

So here we are, shivering our hairy arses off and eating a lot of toast. I must say, he's taking it really rather well. He doesn't smell half as empty as he did last time, and he's not moping around the place feeling sorry for himself this time which is a blessed relief. I swear if I'd had to put up with that crap again I'd have torn the chip out of my own neck and turned myself into the rescue centre.

The long man and I spend a lot of time walking around since our return. One of my favourite walks is to Swinton precinct where there is a very nice chap who sells, amongst other things, all manner of dried pork products passed fit for canine consumption. Earlier today we took a little trot down to see him and the long man bought me a big bag of pigs ears. I do love pigs ears, almost as much as I like biscuits, but I got to thinking whilst munching on my luncheon, who is it that has taken it upon his, or her, self to start amputating ears from swine? Grateful as I am for my pork based treats it does seem odd to me that someone would be so cruel as to mutilate animals in such a way. Can you imagine the conversation in the sty after the ear harvest?

"Hey, Porky." Says Applesauce.


"OI, PORKY!" she repeats.



"What?" Replies Porky.


Still, all this aside, they are very tasty indeed. And I suppose it would be silly to eat the whole pig all at once.

It's snowing in Salford today. I do love the snow. I love the crispy crunch as I bounce through it. I love the cool crystals of ice between my toes. I love the clean, fresh streets after a new flurry. And most of all, I love turning the snow in the garden from virginal white to dirty yellow. Enjoy the little things, it's very important.