A day in the life…

I wake her up before 7am every week day morning. I mean really she should be up, washed, dressed and making my porridge by then. She knows what time I'm going to arrive.

Then I have to sit around doing 'morose' while she does that human washing thing, washes bits of fur she seems to have discarded, and eventually gets round to the porridge. My porridge has peanut butter and linseed flour in with the oats; so does hers but she adds stuff from so many other jars and bags before she eats hers that mine is gone and half digested before she starts eating. I climb onto the seat beside her and do a sneaky recce of her bowl - too many seeds, nuts, strange bits of fruit for my liking. What's wrong with a spoonful of yoghurt and a light sprinkle of K-A-T biscuits like I have?

More morose hanging my head off the seat while I wait for the 'cup of tea' to be finished. Then I get excited and try to lick her face while she puts her boots on.

"No lickies" means nothing to me even though I know the routine - red bucket (trip to the compost heap with veg scraps), blue bucket (rinse the bits of washed fur and hang them up) and FINALLY the magic word: WALK.

She puts a bag of treats in her pocket and I get one when she whistles so it pays to not stray too far from that pocket. The trouble is there are rabbit smells talking to me everywhere we go.

I jump in streams or the sea. She tries to keep her feet dry. I run into clumps of bush, she dithers about taking photos. I hate photo stuff.

F calls these hare tracks. Sea hares? (oils from rotting vegetation actually, Ms Scully.)

Humans talking to each other is another thing that agitates me. Why can't they just sniff and move on? Blah blah blah. Borrring. A good day is when we don't encounter any other humans. 

Middle part of the day is when I have to supervise. Today it was digging postholes. 

Also borrring. Some days I go and fetch my football as a big fat hint to do something more interesting and was just contemplating that today when I was invited to ride in the rattly van. 

Yes. Great. I've learned - once I'm on board there is no getting me out. I dash from door to door and into the back if necessary to avoid eviction but there was no eviction today, just a long drive with the trailer bouncing along behind.  First she got some woodchips, and then I waited while she went into a blue shop. She came back with a bag full of meat. Yum, but I didn't rummage around in it when she stopped again and came back with a box she said had muck boots in it.

What are muck boots?

My Muck Boots

Surprised I was when we stopped and I got a walk (run) through olive groves and along a river. I inspected white posts and red poppies at the base of each olive tree. She said there were memorials to fallen soldiers. (Did someone trip?) Lots of trees didn't have posts yet so I guess they must be expecting more falling perhaps??? 

I got a sausage for being well behaved. I'm always well behaved. Nearly always. Usually. Well sometimes not exquisitely well behaved…

More sausages ought to be made available as incentive.

A sudden braking on the way home made me sit up and pay attention. We did a U-turn into a side road and she spent ages struggling with what looked like really heavy bags (that had 'chook tucker' written on them - and yes I can read when it suits me to) while I peered out the window at her. She eventually got back in the van stinking like a farmyard. Crikey. Doesn't she know that k9s have sensitive noses?

There was a 'wash her hands and get pie' stop in Havelock, and then our bouncy gravel road trip later I was able to inspect those bags.

Smells like poo from something that eats grass - I'd guess horse because I've met horses before.

While she went back and forth with the wheelbarrow and bags of fym (poo) I did my best pleading face until she eventually got the message that we were very late for our 1530 walk to the jetty. (I don't count the lunch time walk today; that was bonus miles.) After a day of warmish sunshine it was trying to rain again so she agreed to stop shovelling woodchips and walk.

Jetty walks are short; just a view of the sea and some water fowl I'm not allowed to disturb, but it marks a turning point in the day. It is where outdoor work stops and indoor sweeping and food preparation, reading, tummy scratches and snuggles start as the sun goes behind the hills.

My own humans usually come by about 1900 hours and I switch my allegiances, going home for my dinner and a warm fireside.

Yours

Scully

Bonus photo of Scully doing 'hotdog'. She likes to bury herself in her blanket.