Team Prewash

A hound’s work is never done around the house but now I’ve got some help with those pesky dirty dishes.

I’d prefer not to share but I don’t always get finished before the dishwasher is rudely closed. The pink greyhound and I seem to have come to an understanding. I’ll lick the plates while she inspects the crusty cutlery.

We both enjoy licking those hard to clean spots on the dirty dishes. At the end of the day, we are thinking about the environment. Why wash all of those perfectly tasty slops down the drain when they can fill two bellies? There’s nothing finer than cold dripping gravy with bits in it.

After the stand-up job we do on the dishes, you’d think there would be no need for a full cycle but they still put it on.

Although Mum and Dad have said that the dishes have never been so gleaming.

Let’s hear it for Team Prewash.

The Pink Greyhound

I haven't posted for a while because I have been suffering from sleep deprivation.

Since the fourth of May I haven't had my usual 20 hours per day. On that day, I spent the whole of it sunning myself in the garden. To be honest, I got a bit exhausted and my jaw was aching from taking my toy to all the purple people coming to the door. Yet when the sun went in and it was getting a little chilly, I went inside to discover that mum had birthed a puppy.

I'm sure it's nose will lengthen in time and its tail will soon sprout. Also I'm a bit disappointed that she is called Daphne. Why not, Olive?

I kept my distance at first, waiting for her to introduce herself but she didn't. Instead I had to be the first to sniff her bottom and while she didn't reciprocate, I felt much more comfortable.

Despite my lack of sleep, I have a new place to dump my toys. Plus, it's important to stay in the good books of a pink greyhound because if the rumours are true, they feed you sneaky treats when they grow up. I can't wait.

Tales of Thievery - Compost

Humans have a passion for these black bins in their gardens. They put ‘waste’ into it and after a while, warm and crumbly compost comes out of the bottom.

Now, I love lying on a pile of fresh, warm compost as much as the next but they are literally putting food in it! I mean, why? There’s a perfectly good belly here, crying out for it.

I’ve tried everything from staring to whining. Sure, they throw me a crunchy broccoli stalk now and again but there is so much more going into this other bin.

I’m taking matters into my own paws and I’ve seen where they put it for transportation. A small pail sits by the front door until it’s gloriously filled with delicious treats.

If it’s fleshy or crunchy, I’m having it. To be honest I’m not that picky.

Treachery

It’s a disgrace, a complete and utter fallacy.

Today, I was made to have a bath. That’s right, a bath! I’ve worked long and hard to smell this good and to perfect my crusty dinner face. It’s like they think it just happens.

Summer is gone but the sun was beating through the window. There I was in the middle of the ‘Bake’ step of my 3 step plan, so quite busy, and I hear them call my name. I heard the ‘treat door’ open so I stayed put and waited for something tripey. They never came, they just called again but it had a different ring to it. Dad appeared and by the look in his eye, it wasn’t good news for me. I tried to make a run for it but I was now at the precipice of ‘Bake’ and exhausted.

They had me and in I went.

I spent most of the shower fuming but then the anger washed away with the bubbles. All I could think about was getting into the garden and rolling in something good. Soon enough, I was out and I ran for the garden feeling fantastic.

I enjoy feeling clean but not as much as I do getting dirty again. I always throw in a few Tassie Devil spins to keep them happy because they always watch me after a bath for some reason.

Regardless of how nice it can be, it’s still treachery.

I'm legitimate

On the 6th September, I had a very important duty. I was a brideshound at mum & dad's wedding!

With a specially made collar, I carried the rings with pride and then promptly did what we hounds do best, sleep.

 

I enjoyed greeting all of the guests into the reception but I chose not to stay. Mingling is my forte but a group of people on the stage insisted on banging a drum all evening.

 

So, I went home with a smile on my face and a wag in my tail because finally, I'm legitimate!

 

 

Bake, Cool, Repeat

Summer is here and there’s nothing finer than roaching in the garden, watching the world go by but it’s always important to have a plan. 

My main aim has always been to soak up as much sun as possible but without a plan, you end up struggling to breathe and your skin becomes tender to the touch. That’s where the dilemma begins. I love the sun, I love getting fuss but most of all, I love breathing…it’s a favourite thing of mine.

So I’ve come up with 3 simple steps to maximise these summer loves.

Bake yourself in the sun until it becomes hard to breathe with your mouth closed. Don’t give up immediately; a few heavy pants won’t harm you.

 Cool yourself in the shade until you are almost shivering. 

Then simply, repeat. 

Not So Cheesy

When I heard we were going to Cheddar, I immediately thought I'd eat my own body weight in cheese. Not so. I sampled the local delicacies but the grass in cheddar just tastes like…well…grass. 

We met plenty of locals on our walk up the gorge with horses, goats and even deer making an appearance. They weren't very friendly, they just tried to out do me in the art of staring. Who are they kidding?

After a paw pounding climb, we found the perfect spot to share a sandwich and some laughs.

When we got back to camp I was so exhausted that I just wanted to sleep. However, I met a funky little bearded dude called Monty so that gave me a second wind. We had a good chat, nose to bottom. He'd come all the way from Yorkshire and gave me some good tips about having a dip in the neighbouring stream.

I pray for a good hot summer because ice cream always rounds off these hot days perfectly.

 

Just remember that house rules don’t apply to holidays so sleep on their bed and bite their sandwiches because it’s all laughed off. That's the Olive way.

Girls On Tor

Glastonbury was a lovely place to visit and very welcoming to hounds. Around every corner there was a thoughtful bowl of water for us to take a slurp from. It was lucky because it was roasting hot! I think I've gone soft from my Australia days.

Our walk up to the famous Tor was exhilarating to say the least. At the top, we soaked up the mythology and gazed at the beautiful landscape and any thoughts of being out of breath quickly vanished. You could see for miles in every direction so I just let the breeze play with my ears for a while.

Although there was one other ear-raising moment, a very 'happy' person offered £2000...for me! Thankfully, mum declined but what a cheek, I'm worth at least double!

All in pink

Even though my racing days are behind me, mum’s are just beginning. I got all dressed up in my favourite colour and went to support her in the ‘Race for Life’. She kicked cancer in the crotch and scored her personal best time!

It was great fun watching from the stands but I was a little overwhelmed, there was so much PINK. I love pink. I love to chase pink.

Reason 41

The bark in the park is that you should always resist the urge to Google yourself. Well, like an unlicked yoghurt pot, I’ve went and done it.

It appears that dad has been entering me into the Retired Greyhound Trust calendar competition. Don’t get too excited, I didn’t win but I have become their reason 41!

I was having a bad ear day. The look on my face is actually saying, “Stop pointing that thing in my face. There’s a squirrel over there!” Geez, humans and their priorities.

Great Greyhound Gathering

As I sit here nervously curled up on the couch, trying not to think about the continuous explosions outside, I thought I’d tell you about the recent greyhound gathering. 

I’m not usually into these big gatherings but I was dragged along regardless. Nottingham Racecourse certainly has a couple of things going for it; it attracts the finest smells and tasty treats.

I don’t go in for the classes; it wouldn’t be fair on the other hounds. I let them have their fun. Some come away with trophies for classes like ‘best black hound’ & ‘best fancy dress.’ 

I’d enter but there just isn’t enough room on the mantelpiece so while everyone’s busy, I get myself off to the treat tent. 

I’ve never tasted muffins and pasties quick like these, fantastic. Although I did feel a little ill afterwards but it was worth it.

So if you ever get the chance next September, come along to the Great Greyhound Gathering and we can share a muffin.

But before I go, take a closer look at what the people are trying to pin on us!

 

Croeso i Gymru (Welcome to Wales)

You know, we hounds have many favourite things but now camping is one of them.

We went on holiday to Wales which is now the fourth country I’ve visited! Camping near Rhyd ddu at the bottom of Mt Snowdon, I had a field, a lake and a hillock to call my own. There was only a little black barking beast to ruin the ambiance but once we laid down the personal space rules, all was well in my new utopia.

You see, house rules don’t apply to camping. I’m allowed on the bed they sleep in. If only they made everything as comfy as this.

I’m allowed to steal food from dad’s hand when he isn’t looking. Well, admittedly I pushed the boundaries there but hey, a girl’s got to try.

I was so exhausted I just couldn’t stop. I zoomed around the campsite, I jumped in the lake and I couldn’t wait to climb the mountain but before that, yes, before that I enjoyed my first Welsh pub, the Cwellyn Arms! There was fuss and treats galore, not to mention a roaring fireplace that I could toast my paws near.

I was sad to leave the pub but the next day we climbed Mount Snowdon and after a long steep journey I’m proud to say that…I’ve slept at the top. In fairness, it was a well earned rest. I scrambled my way over steep rocks and sheep pooh but it was all worth it because after three hours, I made it to the top first. 

Although during the climb I found that the sheep were very bolshy and not at all accommodating with my desire to stare.

However I was disappointed to discover that a train can bring you to the top of the mountain! Although no hounds allowed, so we had to walk down! At least I got a badge for my efforts and it said ‘I climbed Snowdon the hard way.’ Damn right I did! 

 

It has left me wondering whether I’m the first Australian hound to make it to the top of Mount Snowdon?

To say this little holiday had it all, would be an understatement. On the way home we stopped at a lovely café with couches but I wasn’t allowed on them, although I did get to go inside and sneak a crafty lick of a jammy spoon. Nobody saw and I wouldn’t want to ruin it for the other hounds so I just chilled on the floor.

Even though I had just climbed the highest mountain in Wales the day before, I couldn’t believe my luck when we arrived at the beach. It had rained most of the time but when my paws hit sand, the sun came out. In preparation, I stole a couple of dad’s chips and with the last ounce of energy left in my body; I sprinted around the beach like a puppy and threw myself in the sea, fabulous. Afterwards, when my head hit the softness of my bed in the back of the car, it felt like only seconds before we pulled into our driveway at home.

You may think I’ve gone on a bit but one thing is for certain…Wales, rocks!