Feb 4 2010

Home sweet home

We left Cape Town early early one morning. When it was still dark. Where to now I wondered. Without Luan to share the back seat with me the drive was incredibly long. Boring too. Soon got sick and tired of snarling at passing cars and slobbering on the window. Besides – have to be careful – slobber too much and can’t see a darn thing can I now?

 

About the only bright part was when we stopped in some place called Potchefstroom and we got food. Real food. Not that cracker stuff mom dispensed out of boxes every so often. Got a whole pack of chicken pops all to myself. Yum.

 

Part of me was wondering where on earth we were off to? The other part of me no longer cared. Just wanted to get out of that wretched car. Stretch my legs. Play some ball. Imagine my surprise when we arrived at a place that looked familiar. Sniffed a bit. Not the farm - no cow poop smell. Not Cape Town – no sea smell.  Ooooohhhh… wait a bit, I know…. Um um… HOME! Yay. Got so excited I nearly wet my furry knickers. Lemme out. Quick Alpha – stop this car now. Bounced around that back seat like a lunatic.  Leapt out and dashed into my house.

 

Skidded round the corner into my pile of stuff.  Nuzzled it lovingly. My how I’ve missed all you legless, armless, faceless, stuffingless bears. Oh look – Porkie! Rolled around in the pile a bit. Then charged outside to do my business. Whoa. What happed here? Oi! Alpha. Mom. Come check this out. Our garden has turned into a jungle. See. The grass is as tall as I am.

 

Just deal with it Fudgie, said mom. So cautiously tippy-toed into the grassy forest and had a quick squat. Turns out everybody has been on holiday or having Christmas. Fair enough I suppose. Can’t be the only one having fun. Bounded up the stairs looking for that Furball. Oh yes, that’s right. They got rid of him before we left.

 

But the next day, Mom and Alpha got back into the car, taking the cat’s box with them. The empty one. How odd. Thought about begging and whinging to go with, but then could not face the thought of leaping onto that backseat again. Maybe they’ll bring back a new, well-mannered moggy instead. They were not gone long. 

 

Moldy Meatballs! They’d brought our very own cat right back home. Where he belongs. How cool. He stalked out of his hokkie, rubbed his bod against my bod. Curled his tail around my face. We had a snout to nose chat. Then I bottle-brushed him a bit, just so he could feel at home.

 

Clearly Fur’s holiday was not that bad either. He arrived all squeaky clean and a good bit fatter than when he left. He was a bit needy though, kept yowling and yakking to mom, trying to sit on her lap, wrapping himself around what ever bit of her he could reach. As if that was not enough – he draped himself all over Alpha too – and they bonded and watched the cricket together. Alpha had to turn the TV up louder because Fur was purring like a cement mixer.

 

Hey you! Cat. Come here let me slobber on you!

Hey you! Cat. Come here let me slobber on you!

Have to say, I miss all my Cape Town stuff, but being home again is not too shabby either.

 


Jan 28 2010

Fudge meets Cape Town…

Fudge guards the door - or maybe hopes somebody will come in and play with her!

Fudge guards the door - or maybe hopes somebody will come in and play with her!

I checked out Alpha packing that car with an eagle eye. Much as I liked the farm there was no ways yours truly was going to be left behind. Mom kept telling me – no worries Fudgie – you are coming too.

 

 

Hoo mama – if I thought driving to the farm was long, I was in for a biiiig surprise? This time was much longer. Was hot too. Tongue lollingly hot. Only two good things happened. One – they made my baskie higher so I could recline and look out of the window at the same time and two – Luan sneakily shared his biltong with me. Alpha has this ridiculous notion that I might get car sick. So never got fed. Just water. Sniff.

 

Mom got more excited the closer we got to Cape Town. Now if only I knew what Cape Town was? Hope it has food. Imagine my surprise when the old wrinklies came running out to greet me. Keith and Granma. Slobbered on them a bit. Then a whole lot more when they gave me a pressie – a big ass yellow tennis balls. Mine got bust so I ate it. Just what I needed after such a long time sitting all cramped in the car. (That’s a fib – was lekker stretched out on my baskie most of the time.)

Granma and I raced around the garden like Bafana-Bafudgie and AmaCroccaCrocca! Till disaster struck. Times two actually. Granma fell and hurt her wrist, but more tragically – my new ball landed up in the cactus. Psssffffttttt. How sad.

 

Bit later heard a big vroomy noise. Some legs with a helmet charged in. Dived under the sofa. Waaah. More strange creatures. But Mom leapt up and hugged the creature. My wiggledy whiskers – it turned out to be that Em! Slobbered on her a lot. Where you been girl? Fur cat misses you. Oh yes – that’s right – he’s not here, is he.

Mind you – other furballs lived in this house. No mutts I am pleased to report – but frosty felines that took every opportunity to either steal my food or smack my furry face. Once again I appeared to be “The Guest” and was cautioned to be nice. Pah! Em has a boyfriend. He tasted quite good too. 

 

Few days later had another wowie moment. Lolla and Mike pitched up. Vaguely remembered that I liked them  – although have not sniffed them since I was a pup. Hmmm… would appear that all my favorite stuff has been gobbled by Cape Town.

 

Did have a second or two of consternation when Granma invited me to church. Said she’d cleared it with the minister and we could all go on Christmas Eve. Now listen lady – I know Mom said she wasn’t going anywhere without me – but that is ridiculous. I can’t sit still for so long. Give me a nice chew toy and I’ll guard the Christmas pressies instead. Got a nice furry monkey-type thing. Think it was a bribe so I would not demolish the house when they all went out on Christmas day and left me. How rude. So much for not leaving me alone.

 

Alpha, mom and me went walking… on funny sandy stuff. Tickled my toenails, blew up my nostrils. Got thirsty. Had a drink from the moving water. Eeergh yuk! How disgusting. Not like that nice farm stuff at all. Sies ghah! Then we all got in the car and drove some more. Me and my baskie had to travel in the boot. My nice back seat was all filled up with human bods. Wasn’t such a long drive though. When we got out on the other side there was Lolla again. She yabbered on about me shedding on their new floor. Not to worry – of course I’ll shed on the floor for you. Furry floors are so much more attractive than bare tiles. Did a damn good job too!


Jan 20 2010

Farm Dog Fudge

Just call me Fudge the Farm Dog!

Just call me Fudge the Farm Dog!

One I’d managed to get rid of all those little iffy sniffy mutts, hightailed it inside. Right. Let’s play us some serious ball to uncrinkle my bones. Nah said Mom. First we unpack.

                       

They put all our stuff into a strange room, with floors that sounded hollow and went clickty clack on my toenails. Trotted around, exploring. Luan dashed past with two little boys drifting in his wake. The floor thudded and rumbled under my paws. Noisy little blighters.  Now. Where had they all gone to? Hah. Having tea on the stoep without me. How rude.

 

Mom had my balls - she tossed one. Eeeeuuuwwwww. Boing boing boing. Oh oh – mutt alert. Charged after it, snarfed it quick before they could get to it. Hmmm… that was quite a run.  Slung my tongue out the side of my mouth, gasped a bit. Looked mom in the eye – easy lady – not so far this time. Maybe that aunty at the vet had a point, might be packing on a bit of extra weight.

 

Afterwards lurked around that stoep looking hopeful. Know Alpha’s mom makes the most delicious stuff. Yum.

 

Turned out the mutts are not allowed in the house – but I, my own Fudgie-wena self was. Naturally. Am not an outside dog. Everybody seemed most interested in the TV – some cricket stuff. Thought crickets were those noisy tiresome bugs. Come to think of it, this was not much different. Shame. Seeing as they like balls so much thought I’d share. Plonked my ball down next to Alpha’s dad’s foot. Nudged it a bit. Nothing. Nudged it again. Oi! Hullo. Here’s a real ball for you. Suddenly a great huge rubber croc descended on my ball. Kadoef. Eyed it out suspiciously. Bit disconcerting. Was offering to play, not planning on having my ball impounded. Then the ball shot off across the carpet. Aah. That’s more like it.

 

Farm life was not too shabby. Early each morning we went walking. Just Alpha. Mom and me. No leash. Whooo hooo. Charged off, even the tickly wet grass on my tum felt good. Such delightful smells. Alpha had to whistle for me to wait for them. Moldy meatballs. Such slow pokes.  Got a bit of a fright once – looked up, towards the mountain. Ah hah – a creature. Bounded a few paces up the bank to get a better look – waaahhhhh – slid back down in a hurry. Moooommm – save me. They cracked up giggling. That’s a horse Fudgie. Bit big for you to tackle eh?  Sad but true. The walk resumed.  Another time nearly leapt out of my own skin.  Something cockadoodledooooooed a few bushes away. Fled back – aaarghh. What now? They found this amusing too.

 

Sometimes would spy those mingy mutts trying to sneak in the front door. I’d sidle up and nip at them. Yoh! Farm dog. Out! Mom had the cheek to tell me I was a spoilt brat and should be more charitable. Not likely.

 

We ambled down to the river. All of us - hounds included. Off they ran. I followed. Mom called. Flinched a bit.  Rats! Knew I should stop and go back but eish… didn’t want to look like a complete townie wuzz in front of the country hooligans.  Boooiiinnnnggg. Ouch! Turns out they nimbly ducked through the barbed wire fence and yours truly charged smack dab in to it.  Maybe not such a bad idea sticking with mom after all.

 

Oh my wiggly whiskers! That river was a fine thing. Bit chilly and wet to begin with but got used to it. The mutts and I frolicked around, got thoroughly drenched. Then rolled in the sand. Snuck up on mom who was tanning and shook ourselves. Wah hah – such fun to see her leap up, shrieking.

 

Just when I was starting to think this whole farm malarkey was pretty cool, they started packing up the car again…


Jan 14 2010

Fudgie Pudgie goes on holiday

Just before Christmas, Mom and Alpha squidged Looseyfur into his hokkie. Wah-hah! What’s he done now? Stuck my nose through the bars and grinned at him. He gave my snout a boof and yowled loudly. Watched Alpha load him into the car. Wagged my tail. Bye-bye Fur.

 

Come on – you too, said Mom.

 

Hrooof. Stopped gloating and clambered into the back seat. Fur and me eyed each other warily. What now?

 

Turns out we went to Vetland. -Got jabbed with those nasty sharpie things. Mind you, the auntie who did it was nice and gentle. Fur made such a racket. Performed like a real sissy. Honestly! That creature has no breeding whatsoever. Although do tend to agree that having one’s temperature taken is sucky deluxe. Fur got let off such indignities because he was howling so much. Not such a doff moggy after all.

 

Do you know that Auntie told mom I was a tad overweight? How rude.

 

Then we went home. Wondered if the whole wretched process was absolutely necessary.

 

A few days later – Mom snagged Fur and stuffed him back into his cat box. He hissed and spat. Highly miffed. I sat by the door, ready and waiting to leap agilely into the car. Pudgie Fudgie indeed.

 

No, not you Fudge, said Mom. What? Why not? She whispered in my ear – you are coming with us. Shhhh – don’t tell Fur.  Hmmm…  Coming where?

 

So off they went again – Fur yowling up a storm. Me sitting sadly by the front door – keeping an eye on Luan.  They weren’t gone long, but came back without Fur. Eish. Now that cat is a pain in the rump, but he’s mine. They can’t just get rid of him. He’s family. Don’t worry Fudge, said mom – we’ll get him back.

 

She hauled down those box type things from the top of the cupboard. A big one and a small bag.  She filled the biggie up first, then starting throwing my toys, balls and other interesting stuff into the little bag. Oi! Lady! Whatareyoudoingnow?

 

Mom showed me her fangs and said we are ALL going on holiday Fudge.  Thrilling, I’m sure – if only I knew what “a holiday” was?

 

Early next morning - it was only vaguely light - Alpha loaded half the house into our little green car. My baskie went onto the back seat. Eyed out the whole shifty business, heart pumping madly.

 

We all piled in – Luan and me sharing the backseat – quite cozy. Leant over and slobbered on him a bit in case he was also nervous.

 

Off we went. Made a detour past Springs to give Ernest some delicious looking teddy bears for his baby girls. Then we drove. And we drove. And we drove. Every so often the car would stop.  Alpha would attach my leash; coax me out the car to stretch my legs. Uh uh – no thank you. I’ll stay in the car and make sure that Luan does not try lying on my baskie again.

 

A very very loooonnngg time later, after lots of bumpy roads and too many forced leg stretches – we arrived. Had to admit, the place smelt pretty good. A healthy mixture of fresh air and cow poop.

 

Oh my sneaky snout! There’s space to play ball – loads of it. Quick. Mom. Where’s my bag?

 

Suddenly… three little whipper snapper mutts appeared out of nowhere, yapping like crazy and started sniffing my furry knickers. Snapped and snarled at them. Get away! All of you.

 

BE NICE FUDGE! said Mom in capital letters. It’s not your house. You’re a guest here. Fat joke. Me a guest? Don’t be ridiculous.

 

Chunky chop bones! Look. There’s Alpha’s Mom and Dad. Oooh… and some little people too. What fun. Maybe this holiday stuff might not be too shabby after all.

fudge-goes-on-holiday


Jan 8 2010

Well! I’ll be broomed!

See people! I don't only eat couches!

See people! I don't only eat couches!

Think the weather is a bit hotter here in our new house. Can’t go and stick my nose in the pool either. Why? Because, silly, we don’t have pool now do we? Have to slosh around in my water bowl instead. Not quite the same you know. 

 

 

Never mind, when it rains, the water whooshes past our front stoep and makes like a river. When it stops, there’s usually quite a bit of wet stuff left over for me and Fur to slop around in.  (Funny thing that – thought cats are not supposed to like water, but that creature of ours wallows in it.)  Then we make pretty flower patterns with our paws on the tiles for mom to admire. Between us, we get downright creative.

 

Specially if the garden dudes have just mowed the lawn or weed-eaten the edges. Then there are nice bits of grass and mud to add to the canvass. Sometimes mom tells us we are very clever, and then other times she screws her face up and looks a bit like she might howl. She dashes off for the broom.

 

Due to the fact that it’s rather hot now, I’ve been shedding. Worse than usual. In fact mom opened up the yellow sucky thing the other day and my little furry heart nearly attacked me. There, sneakily hiding away, was another whole dog. Quite a well behaved one, did not bark back when I challenged it.

 

Mom gave me a withering look - said get real Fudgie – how could a dog live in the vacuum cleaner? Hmmmm… she had a point. If I was scared silly of it – stood to reason any other mutt would be too. Turned out the other “dog” was me. Or my fur, to be specific. Quite impressive I tell you.  Amazing I’m not bald.

 

Although that mom is definitely a tad on the dof side. She’s got many brooms. Maybe she’s trying to find one that can fly?  She’s always buying the latest technology to see if it works better. Instead of whining and whinging, she should be saying, Oh thank you for my daily workout Fudgie-wena - you precious little hound! You keep mom nice and slim and trim. But noooo, ungrateful woman that she is – it’s more like Ye Gads Fudge – you are a mucky pup! Am surprised you’ve got any hair left – there’s more on the floor than on your grungy little dogsbod.  How rude.

 

The latest broom is one of those static jobbies. With nice chewy rubber bristles that are not really bristles, if you know what I mean.  This is where the dof part comes in… she sweeps up all the hair. Each time, without fail, she forgets to bring the little broom and dustpan. So leaves the dirt in a nice neat pile and tootles off to fetch the missing tools.   I take this opportunity to romp around in the pile, redistribute it all over the floor. Roll in it a bit. Generally do a first rate job of messing the place up again.  Then sit there, good as gold, looking like chops would not touch my teeth.

 

I smile sweetly and supervise whilst she scoops it all up into a pile again.  Fur sits on the steps keeping a watchful eye on the shenanigans. Given half a chance, he’s been known to mess up those nice neat piles too.

 

Gnugh! If we can’t play ball like we used to – have to find some other way to have fun.

 


Dec 9 2009

Professor Pants

You know how we moved from our nice huge yard to this piddley piece of grass? Never could understand the whole business but finally figured out it was because Alpha lost his head.  Strange – because seems to me his head is still firmly attached to the rest of him, but mom says he was headhunted and then two years later – decapitated.  Hroooof! Humans can be a bit odd – and have come to the conclusion that mom is odder than most on occasion.

 

Anyway – turns out his new job is something to do with Professor Pants. Well - this is what mom calls him from time to time when he’s being obnoxious. Or it could be mom who’s being obnoxious. Am never really sure about all this human stuff. Anyway Alpha gets a very miffed look on his face (which is also still attached to his bod, I’m pleased to say). If he had whiskers I think they’d twitch!

 

I can understand his iffy face. What does mom say to me every now and again … Fudgie – you get your furry pants off that bed! or Get your furry pants out of my flowers! or You stop eating our cat and bring your furry pants down those stairs immediately! Frankly – being called furry pants is not one of her most loving terms of endearment. So am thinking that perhaps Alpha feels the same about this whole professor pants thing.  Although when he comes home from work and turns down my generous offer to play ball with him to help him unwind – am inclined to agree with mom.

 

Mind you his work has awesome grass. Loads of it. Was there where I did my business when the old wrinklies came to visit. Left a little note from The Fudgster for all the other academically inclined mutts to read.  Am quite sure none of them are smarter than my own furry self though. After all I do indeedy possess my very own Ph.D. degree – Alpha!

 

I see, from all the goings on, that it’s that time of year again where humans hang funny things on trees inside and start wrapping interesting tidbits up in paper. Mom calls it silly season – because everybody goes mad. Seems like mom goes madder than normal too.  She says it’s been a long year. See what I mean – nutso! A year is a year, isn’t it? How can it be longer or shorter?  They keep yabbering on about holidays and how we are going off in the car to see the old wrinklies and my lovely Em. Haven’t a clue what they are on about, but it better include me, otherwise I’m eating up the rest of the couch.

 

In the meantime, am keeping an eye on those big square boxes that live in the top cupboard – if they come down – I’m getting inside one of them.

 

If any of the rest of you are going away on holiday – safe travels and sure hope you have a great time. But hey! Don’t forget about your furry family. Make sure they are looked after nicely while you are gone – or I’ll have to recommend that they learn how to couch-chomp too.

 


Dec 2 2009

Where’s the sun gone?

So glad those painter dudes are all gone now. Sheesh! What a pain in the furry rump. We sometimes think the garden staff can be a bit bothersome, but they come and go and then stay gone for a while. The painters came and went, and came back again, and again and again and erm… close your ears… a-%^@#&-gain. They appeared at every window when you least expected them at ridiculous times in the morning too.

 

All the time they were working here the sun shone brightly and smiled sweetly down from the sky. Mom and I were lekker miffed I tell you – could not go out and sniff the daisies or play ball.  Of course, the ball playing was much more important than the daisy sniffing, although we don’t always agree on this.

 

Only good thing that came of it was that mom had no option but to take me for a walk every single day. No miss-outs. No excuses. No ag sorry Fudgie-wena I’m too busy to go walkies with you. None of that nonsense.  Each day, for 10 days, when Alpha climbed into his little car and took himself off to work – Mom and I hit the cobblestones and trudged round the complex.

 

Then, as suddenly as they appeared,  they left. Our unit at least, they were busy with other houses. But so did the sun. It vamoosed entirely and was nowhere to be seen. When Alpha left the next morning I stood by the door, nudging my leash. Oh no ways forget it, said mom, I’ve already had a shower.  What? I shook my head – clearly my ears were full of fluff or something. Why not? This is walk time. What’s your problem?

 

No Fudge – flapped moms’ mouth. She opened the door a smidgen for me to peek out. Hmmmm…. seems like someone had left the tap on upstairs.  A great deluge was pouring from above. Very careless – don’t they know that water is precious and not to be wasted.  Ventured out a bit further – hah – she’s not going to catch me for a sucker. Maybe it’s only in once place. But turned out that rain was everywhere. No trickery involved. Drenched our miserable piece of grass and turned the gutter into a raging river. Could not even widdle without getting wet from above and below nogal. I’d charge out, do my thing and charge back onto tiles again. Nearly skidding kadoef! And braining myself on the legs of the table. This went on for a whole week. Not a whisker of a lie.

 

There was a sludgy mud bath under the daisy bush where Looseyfur always does his business. Could see him longingly eyeing out moms basil pot plants on the stoep. She wagged her finger under the poor cat’s nose and said in her ultra meanie voice – Don’t even consider it!

 

Eish – for once in my life actually felt sorry for that poor critter. He got his own back though – walked through the house in the middle of the night – pitty patty pitty patty – up the stairs, straight onto mom’s pillow, where he wrapped his muddy-pawed, wet furry bod around her head and started purring like a hydraulic drill. It was dark but I could swear that cat was smiling.

 

Mom, on the other hand, was not.

I'm sooooo bored!

I'm sooooo bored!

I’m soooooo bored!

 


Nov 25 2009

Painter Problems

Turns out the letter that I digested was quite an important one. Was informing us that they were going to paint the complex. Just the outside bits you know but eish -what a hoo-ha. Had I known what it was all about would have done a better job and chewed that little sucker into smithereens – might have stopped them from coming at all.

 

We were quite anxious that this malarkey was going to occur when the old wrinklies were visiting – lucky for them they escaped it. A couple of weeks later – pretty darn early in the morning - heard the garden gate crash open. Oh oh. Charged down those stairs two at a time. Went so fast I nearly nose-dived down the last section. Not cool – skinning my own furry tum – have done that once before and vowed never to do it again. Hrooof.  Not cool at all in fact.

 

Dashed out the gate onto the stoep.  Eeeerngh… skidded to a halt. Ooopsie. Lots more than one person. Am very brave when it comes to one or two strange bods in our yard but five or six is pushing it. Looked over my shoulder – where was that wretched mom when I needed her. Let rip with a few ultra ferocious barks. Then surreptitiously backed up slowly, into the lounge.  Tried to nose the door closed while still growling – an ominous sound that scares the pants off most people who don’t know me. (Those who do would have to admit my meanie tendencies stop at making a lot of noise. As I’ve said before – much prefer chomping couches to people.) Unfortunately, all the nosing did was leave mucky streaks on the sliding door. Will have to work on that one.  Lucky I’m a long dog. Backed up some more and was suddenly round the corner next to the stairs.

 

Charged up – two at a time again. Bit safer going up than down – still have to watch it though.

 

My waggy tail! Those pain-in-the-buttsky painter people were here for a whole week. Turned our lives topsy turvey.  Messed with our regular ball-playing schedule and forced me to take Mom for a walk early each morning – just after Alpha went off to work. Not only did they paint the front bits, but also the back, sides, doors, everything. Not even my balcony escaped. Ladders poked into every bit of wall. We were surrounded I tell you. Not fun at all. Coming and going – any old time of the day. No consideration for a little dog whatsoever. Most inconvenient.

 

Every time they passed near the window where mom’s desk is – I checked them out, tapped on the glass with a sharp toenail and uttered an impressive hrrooooffff – just to let them know I was keeping an eye on them. Added bonus, of course, was watching Mom, deep in thought, jump each time I barked.  Ssssht Fudgie, go play with your ball. Gave her a withering snort - right – hardly likely – the stoep stuff is all over the grass – besides – the door is shut.

 

Not outside – you ridiculous mutt – inside. 

 

So I played with my balls – in, around and underneath her desk. Every now and then I cleverly managed to pull out some wire things and cause her to come grovel under the desk and play with me.

If you look at me like that - I'll do it again!

If you look at me like that - I'll do it again!


Nov 18 2009

Neighbourhood Pooches

Fudgie perves the neighbourhood mutts

Fudgie perves the neighbourhood mutts

Must say – one thing is quite cool about living in this complex place – get to check out other mutts. From a distance. A nice safe distance - like perched snug as a bug on my baskie. Behind balcony bars.

 

 

Look down on them as they stroll past, quite unconcerned… then suddenly… hrooof hrooof hrooof.  Wah-hah! Such fun to see the little rat-types leap with fright. They can do absolutely nothing in return. Heh heh. Half the time they don’t even know where the yap yapping is coming from. Silly creatures look frantically around – all confuzzled. Most amusing.

 

Ssshhht Fudgie - you hooligan! Says Mom, if she is anywhere near. That’s public space – not yours.

 

What? Not mine. Don’t be ridiculous.  Of course it’s mine. I can see it, can’t I? Besides - it’s a fun way of passing time.

 

For instance, if I look across the road and up a bit, can see (and hear) Brakenjan. He’s a teeny weeny odd looking long dog. Brown and black – strongly resembles a piece of burnt wors on legs.  He’s lucky because he belongs to a little person that plays with him. Not like mom – nag nag nag. Although sometimes, when it squeals and whines like a naughty puppy, reckon I’m probably better off with Furball – at least I’m bigger,  can slobber on him when he misbehaves.

 

Sheila lives down the road, nearer the gate. I like Sheila. She’s solid and smiley. But no fair - she gets to trot around without that leash thingy. Runs, sniffs, and leaves messages wherever she feels like it. Does not have anybody tugging, and hanging on for dear life - like that wretched mom does to me. Her parental agents just stroll casually around the place - she does her own thing along the way. Much more civilized. Will really have to train mom better. 

 

Sometimes, when we walk passed Sheila’s house, I hear some deep woofs. Look around frantically, ready to run for the hills, or at least charge off to our unit. Then tell my own furry self – Fudges – you are a doff dog! Sheila’s parked up there on her balcony – doing the yappity yap back at you thing.  Quite sociable you know.

 

Need to share what a helpful little doglet I am. Was skulking downstairs while mom vacuumed the top bit. We all know how I abhor that fearsome sucky creature.  Think, if push comes to shove, might even prefer the thunder dog in the sky to that beast. But talking about shoving – somebody very thoughtfully pushed some stuff under the front door. How nice. Mail for us. Seeing as Mom was busy, decided to make myself useful. So opened it and had a quick read.

 

By the time she came down those stairs – not only had I read it – but had also thoughtfully digested most of the contents.  She pounced on the scraps reproachfully. Oi Fudge! Was this letter actually addressed to you?

 

Looked at her with big eyes.  Erm… nope, probably not. But seeing as we live in community of property - what’s yours is mine, right?  Besides - you get to play with my ball!


Nov 11 2009

Hot-diggity-thunder-dawg!

Hotdiggitydog but this new place we live in is a bit on the scary side.

 

Specially just before it rains, when the huge thunder dog barks and rumbles in the sky. Whoooo. First time I heard that I nearly pooped my furry knickers. Shot up those stairs and under the bed. Normally it’s a bit of a mission to get under that bed because technically I don’t fit anymore, but this time slid in on my belly - dooosh! into the boxes that mom stashes under there. All in record time too I might add. Bit silly really because in my haste I forgot to tell mom to come with me. She stayed downstairs. Without me.  Had to crawl out, slink back down between the crashing booms to fetch her.

 

Oi - helllooo – mom! What you waiting for then?

 

She looks at me and says – It’s just thunder Fudgie.  Nothing to worry about. You grew up with it.

 

Not this stuff. This is louder and scarier and erm… did I mention louder? Much much louder. It cracks, grumbles and reverberates around the sky in a most alarming manner. Makes our whole house shake.  Alpha, being a clever phizzysissy says it’s because there is more moisture in the air here – so it’s more intense. Mom disagrees, says it’s because it echoes up and down between the houses in the complex.  Frankly people, don’t give a bouncing bark what the reason is – just scares me silly.

 

If it’s not go-to-bed upstairs time, then I have to crawl under the table to hide away from the noise Try to take as much of my stuff with me. Not ideal though because people tend to either stomp on me or trip over my toys. Oh – sorry Fudge – is that where you are? Ghah! Like I’d be anywhere else? Mom keeps promising to make me earmuffs but so far nothing has materialized.  

 

As if the thundery noise is not bad enough – the other day we were watching TV.

Waaah Mom! I'm scared.

Waaah Mom! I'm scared.

 

Was sitting on Mom’s lap, holding her paw just in case she got scared – when ZAP! There was a big fat crack right in our lounge and ka-pow – the TV died. When it made the ZAP noise Mom shrieked.  Louder than Em did when Fur used to drop mouse pressies on her duvet. (Didn’t think such a thing was possible actually.)

 

She thought the lightening had also killed her laptop thingy that she tik tik tiks on all day. She leapt up – impressive - because it’s not easy to leap up when my own furry bod is anchoring a person down, and went to check. Lucky for her it was only the TV that died.

 

Mind you – might have also been a tad sad if her tik tik thingy went kadoef along with the TV. You know – she’s quite a good mom – she posts these columns that I write each week on a real blog (silly me - here you all are) and told me the other day that I, Miss Fudgie-wena have people from all over the world reading about my riveting life. How cool is that?

 

Hmmm – wonder if the world is bigger than our back yard in Springs. Doubt it.