Down and Out!

 Tuesday. 7.10 a.m. My internet went down last night. At first, I thought it was a poor connection to the router, so I checked the thing, even did the turn-off and turn-on thing, but no result. I even thought that I might not have had enough in my bank account and a payment had been missed, but it wasn't that. I managed to open Google on my phone and discovered that the entire Vodafone network was down. Not just broadband, but also their mobile network. This at least was a relief, but it didn't help the fact that the broadband was out of operation. Fortunately, this morning I found that the broadband was back up and running.

Thursday. 1.45 p.m. For some weird reason, some days this blog is impossible to write on. I don't know why, but it means I can't write or do anything, which is the reason it has been patchy. I will write as much as I can, but it can be frustrating when I can't continue.

I won't be replacing Alfie with another dog. As much as I would like another one, it's not really a good idea. I loved him too bits, and he was absolutely no problem, but if I wanted to go away, for example, to Worcester, to visit my daughter, Chloe and the grandchildren, it was difficult to get someone to look after him. I did a search online and found that Yorkshire Terrier puppies cost anything from £1,500 to well over £2,500. I think, if I were going to get another dog, I'd get a dachshund. I'd get a short-haired one, which would be much easier to keep tidy.

Monday. 10.05 p.m. It's more than ever autumnal. The trees are turning brown. Throughout Milton Keynes, the trees are a mass of different colours, orange, red and in between.

The digital thermometer reads 23ºc as I write this post.

I have completed a long sequence of writing, transferred it to word processing.

Tuesday. 6.20 a.m. Yesterday evening, we had to endure about an hour of fireworks being let off, over on Oldbrook Green. Several notices are saying that fireworks should not be set off, but it obviously doesn't make a lot of difference to the individuals doing this. So, tell me, what is the point of having these notices if nobody in authority from Milton Keynes Council (or perhaps Campbell Park Parish Council) does something to stop it? There must be some bit of local legislation that demands fireworks to be stopped. Apart from anything, it upsets dogs and other animals in and around this area.

2.10 p.m. I've been out with my camera and walked around Oldbrook Green (or is it Park?) This was the first time I've been around there since Alfie died, and it was odd without him. There are the remains of fireworks on the green and signs put up around telling people that it is an offence to let of fireworks, under law, and you can be fined. Not that that would make any difference to those persons involved with last night's little session.

Doggone!

 Saturday. 6.30 a.m. It's really strange, waking up as usual, but not having a small dog to take out. Alfie has been such a central part of my life, and then to suddenly lose him is a shock.

We got Alfie after we went to Crufts. Carol was spontaneous, and we often did things on the spur of the moment. So, we got tickets and went. It was at the NEC near Birmingham (National Exhibition Centre). We watched some agility displays, and one of the dogs was a Yorkshire Terrier, so afterwards, Carol said, 'Shall we get a Yorkshire Terrier?' I said 'Okay.' So we got Alfie from a breeder near March in Cambridgeshire. We already had Poppy, who was a schitzu/Westie cross. Carol had her before we met in 2006. Then we had some rather difficult situations when Alfie was brought home and introduced to Poppy. All went fine for a day or two, but then Poppy was very clear on what Alfie's place was in the house. A lot of growling and 'I'm the boss' type behaviour. But it soon settled down. There were some really amusing situations, usually in the evening. The two dogs would charge around the house, through the kitchen, then the front hall and then into the lounge, and round and round, jumping on the sofa, over our legs if they were in the way. It was just crazy and funny.

Alfie was easy to house train. There really were no problems in that area. We took both dogs out for lots of walks. One of our favourite places was Rushmere Country Park, which is near Leighton Buzzard, a short journey south on the A5. We took Alfie with us during the Autumn and, walking along one of the paths, which were covered with leaves, Alfie got some caught in his coat. He kept stopping to pull them out with his mouth. It was hilarious. On another occasion, we took both dogs for a walk along the Grand Union Canal, which runs through Milton Keynes.. We let them off their leads, and they ran about. There was a low wall, which Alfie decided to jump over, and as a result, he landed in the canal! I had to drag him out, sopping wet, and he looked like a drowned rat!

Tuesday. 8.40 a.m. It's a bright and sunny morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc. 

I have been tidying the flat. I got around half of the floor mopped. It's a complex process, because I have to move furniture before I can get to some areas. I've had to move the sofa, so I can move my office chair so I can sweep and then mop under the desk. The television had to move to allow me to sweep and mop behind it. I have done the floor in front of the television. I will leave the other half of the room for another day.

11.45 a.m. I have now planted the remaining daffodil bulbs in the garden at Dexter House.

My writing continues. The sequence is not yet complete, but it is getting there.

Another Day, Another Dawn

 Saturday. 10.55 a.m. It's hotter than ever. The digital thermometer currently reads 29ºc.

We have had workmen in Dexter House for the past week. So, as a result, there's a great deal of noise, the usual banging and scraping and the high-pitched noise of machinery. They are taking out windows along the corridor. Apparently, they are replacing the windows with glass that is fireproof, or so I understand. Bringing the place in line with current building regulations, no doubt brought in after the Grenfell Tower fire, which killed many of the occupants.

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. It's a good deal cooler this morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 26ºc.

I woke up later than usual. I'm sleeping much better. I'm on sertraline, so I think that is why.

Monday. 5.45 a.m. Still cooler this morning. My thermometer reads 24ºc.

I've done some research online regarding sertraline. One of the side effects would appear to be related to heat regulation,  which then leads to skin irritation, so that explains things.

Friday. 6.20 a.m. For the past couple of nights, Alfie has slept on the floor. The night before last he was on the floor in the hallway, which is between the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. He has started to make funny little noises, sort of, as if he's moaning and muttering to himself. (I know that sounds unlikely, but it seems like it to me.) This sound kept me awake, so I at last decided that I'd pick him up and put him in his nice, sort, comfortable bed, which I did. Last night, he lay in the bedroom doorway, making it difficult to get in without treading on him. I woke this morning and couldn't find him anywhere, until I found him under the coffee table in the lounge! Why there, I have no idea, but fortunately, he came out without my having to extract him; otherwise, he would have been stuck.

Tuesday was Alfie's 18th birthday. I can't believe he's still going strong, although a bit wobbly on his feet, but not astounding considering his age. We got Alfie as a result of going to Crufts, which would have been the year Carol and I got married. We saw a Yorkie doing agility, which was brilliant, and it was shown on television. Carol said, 'Shall we get one?' and I said 'Yes!' and we found a breeder around March, in Cambridgeshire, and we drove to have a look at a litter of puppies, and that's how we came to get Alfie. As a young puppy, he really was tiny and easily fitted into a hat that Carol was wearing.

8.25 a.m. It's bright and sunny, and the digital thermometer currently reads 28ºc.

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. An overcast morning. When I ventured out with Alfie earlier, there was a thin sort of rain. There is the possibility of torrential rain and thunderstorms later in the day, and the possibility of flash floods.

The digital thermometer currently reads 26ºc.

11.55 a.m. There has been an amber warning because of the rain. What began earlier as thin drizzle has now become a good deal heavier. There is now a warning about the possibility of flash floods

Sunday. 7.35 a.m. A definite change in the weather this morning. It's raining quite heavily. As a result, there is a large puddle along the side of Strudwick Drive, and it has to be, because the roads in Milton Keynes weren't constructed with cambers, meaning water can't flow off as it should. Also, drains have got blocked with debris, meaning that there's more of a buildup of water. If the Romans could build their roads with cambers, why can't modern road builders do the same?

Another Fun-Packed Week?

Friday. 7.05 a.m. I have come to the conclusion, after a great deal of stress caused by the HP printer which I have been battling to get working (not actually too much for something which isn't doing what it is supposed to do, that's print.) that I replace it with another machine. I have quite a lot of Nectar points, which means I can use them to buy a new device from Argos.

6.20 p.m. I eventually got a new Canon Pixma printer from Argos. I used virtually all my Nectar points, ordering it through the Argos website, I then drove to the Argos store to pick it up. I have set it up and even printed off a couple of pages. It was relatively easy to get set up, and I have downloaded apps onto my iPad and iPhone, which means I can print directly from them. 

Saturday. 8.00 a.m. A mild and rather boring sort of day on the weather front. There's nothing more I can say at the moment.

3.30 p.m. I took Alfie out mid-morning. We did a circuit of Oldbrook Green, and on the opposite side to The Cricketers public house, I saw some snowdrops, just beginning to show. So, the first signs of spring! It is definitely getting milder. Well, compared to what the weather was like around a week ago. I think the temperature is around 10 degrees warmer. 

Sunday. 8.15 a.m. It appears to be another relatively mild morning. 

Monday. 7.15 a.m. Alfie insisted on being taken out earlier than usual. I had only just woken up, and he was still poking me with his paw. I just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but when you have a small Yorkshire Terrier poking you on the shoulder and then standing in the open doorway barking at you, I really didn't have much choice. So, very reluctantly, I got dressed and picked him up, and we went out of the side door of Dexter House. I had my small electric torch in my pocket, which was absolutely essential, as otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to see to pick up after Alfie.

10.15 a.m. We went out again at around 9.15. It is currently sunny and bright, but once you get outside, it turns out that it's quite chilly, so we didn't hang around.

Tuesday. 7.50 a.m. Yet another mild day. What more can I say?

Bring Me Sunshine!

Monday. 10.15 a.m. Oh dear! After several days of warm and sunny days, we now have light rain! Not something a small Yorkshire Terrier is going to relish! It was certainly a surprise when I went out mid-morning, dressed in my shorts and short-sleeved polo shirt! But never mind. That's the good old British weather for you, totally unpredictable.

12.32 p.m. On Saturday, I got a text message from the N.H.S., informing me that I had come into contact with someone who had been infected with the Omicron variant of the COVID-19 virus. I was told to order a test kit, which I did, clicking through the text message. I was over-pleased that I was expected to fork out £1 for postage, which was a bit of an affront. Why couldn't they pay? Having done this, I had my doubts that it was genuine. Well, with the number of scams that are going around, it's often difficult to tell what is real and what is fake. But I'm sure it's genuine. So, I suppose I will have to wait and do the test when it arrives and see what happens. I don't feel under the weather, so I'm reasonably sure it's going to be negative.

It's still raining fairly hard, so McNugget (alias Alfie) won't like it. I don't blame him, because I don't relish getting wet either.

Tuesday. 6.45 a.m. Another bright and sunny morning. What more can I say?

Wednesday. 6.30 a.m. It's not quite as bright and sunny this morning as it has been for the past couple of days. It must have been raining overnight, as there were definite signs when I took Alfie out this morning.

If you recall in my earlier posts, I mentioned how I had hoped to be able to leave Alfie with a young lady who would care for him over a long weekend at the end of May, and then, how it was abandoned because he didn't like the idea of being left? Well, that young lady's mother had suggested that perhaps she could have him for a few hours so that he got used to the idea of being left with her. It's the abandonment thing which he doesn't like; the idea that I won't be coming back, which isn't true. I think the fact that he barks at the grandchildren (and other children, which is when we're out and children approach wanting to stroke him.) is probably to protect me. I don't know exactly what's going on, but some of this behaviour is because he doesn't understand small children, particularly because they talk with higher-pitched voices than adults and move around far more unpredictably. Anyway, with all this in mind, I'm taking him to her house on Sunday afternoon just to attempt to get him settled so I can have time in Worcester with Chloe, Steve and the four grandchildren.

2.00 p.m. I've been into Sainsbury's, shopping, this morning. I went in a good deal earlier than I would normally, for no other reason than I just wanted to get it out of the way. Not only that, but I'm really glad that I did because it was very quiet. What does annoy me, though, is that they don't have more people at the check-outs. I think it's to encourage you to use the self-service tills. I'm fine using them, but whenever I use one, there's a problem. 

I was queuing up to use a check-out and several people were ahead of me. I couldn't help reading a notice at the end of the checkout line. It read: 'Bags for life now cost 30p. Replace old bags free.' Which made me think, I can think of quite a few old bags I'd like to replace . . . free!

I realized a few days ago, on looking through the pile of cards which inhabit my wallet, in amongst the loyalty cards, that my free bus pass ran out last year, so I decided to apply for a new one. It's an easy job and made easier when I have my birth certificate photographed and on my MacBook Pro, along with several digital photographs. You just fill in the online form on the Milton Keynes Council website and upload proof of age and photograph (easy and far better than going to their offices and having to queue up.) The replacement card came in the post this afternoon. Now to decide where to go by bus, using the card. It's just a shame I can use rail as I fancy going further afield for a day out.

The Sainsbury Shuffle

I have attempted to avoid going out to shop too many times, but there comes a point where I simply need some basic items, such as milk, bread and potatoes. I did some washing this morning and had things back, dried and put away by around 9.30, so it seemed a good idea to go to Sainsbury's as early as possible. On arrival at the underground carpark, I found a space on the upper level and had to join the queue that had formed around the outer edge of the carpark. I had thought the end was part-way back from where I had parked the car, but I was wrong. I had to walk down the slope to the lower level and was shocked to see the end was a good way further back, where I stood with everyone else, with the recommended 2-metre (six feet) gap between myself and people in front of and behind me. The queue shuffled along, hence the term 'Sainsbury Shuffle' which I have used as this post's title. It makes me wonder what a docile nation we are in Great Britain. We seem to put up with a great deal, including queuing. But today people don't seem to have the patience. If the coronavirus pandemic is to be bought under control, people need to obey the social distancing advice in order to prevent the virus spreading. I think it's asking a great deal of people if the government expects everyone to just sit at home and do very little, even though the weather is fine. It is, as I write this. The sun is out and there's no wind. Let's just hope and pray that this situation improves or, better still, comes to an end.

My FitBit has been playing up. I can't get it to function, even though it appears to have a charge. My only real complaint about it is that it only keeps a full charged battery for a week. Why can't it be for longer? You never know exactly if it has started charging when you put it on the charging device. There are three metal pins (Brass? I'm not sure.) which are supposed to align with pins (prongs?) on the actual device. If it was a Apple device it would make a very decisive sound, which my MacBook does as it starts up, but the FitBit only makes a sort of shiver or vibrate which should denote it is charging, but the screen makes no sign of life. I haven't therefore been able to wear it when I take Alfie out for the past couple of days (more like, a week or so.) I emailed FitBit and got a response and have had the thing charging connected to the MacBook. It is now showing 99% charge, so something must be happening, so it would appear that all is well, or so I hope.

Later. The FitBit is back at full charge and is on my wrist and working as it should.

The sun is shining and we're stuck indoors. We're not supposed to go out. What? Indoors on a bright sunny day? That's awful. It may be to prevent the spread of the dreaded virus, but how long does the government honestly think the average person is going to endure this lockdown? Let's be perfectly honest, not long I would imagine.

Alfie can't seem to understand why we're cooped up indoors. I am sitting and watching a programme about Waitrose and he sits on the sofa next to me, staring. It's actually quite intimidating (how can a small Yorkshire Terrier be intimidating, you may ask? Well, when that dog stares and whenever you move, he follows.) In the end, once the programme was over, I just gave in and put him on his lead and took him out.

(Sunday) It's bright and sunny and we're still locked inside. We mustn't go out . . . But I hear the police, who have been given powers under new legislation which has recently been bought in by the government, to make sure people don't gather in groups, in an attempt to prevent the spread of the coronavirus. But I am hearing reports that the police have been somewhat heavy-handed over this.

We're now being told that the government may even prevent us going out to exercise. My goodness, we're slowly but surely becoming a police state! So, how on earth will this be policed? Doesn't bare thinking about. . .

(Monday) I've found it difficult to know what day of the week is is, as they are beginning to blur into one another. Having my Tuesday as a sort of focus of my week, and now that it's gone (but I quite intend continuing there as soon as things get back to normal, whatever 'normal' is now.) that focus has disappeared.

I have been out with Alfie, at around 7.15, and I found it quite over-cast and it would appear that it must have been raining, if only slightly, over night.

Boris Johnson has been admitted to hospital, as he has tested positive with the coronavirus. We haven't been told what he's been admitted for, but he is still in charge of the government and presumably keeping in contact with the cabinet and other politicians.

Keir Starmer has now been elected as leader of the Labour Party. An improvement on Jeremy Corbyn, who, quite frankly, wasn't Prime Minister material. He had a sort of 'couldn't-care-less' sort of attitude, well, at least that's how he came across. Untidy. His scruffy appearance didn't help. Remember what happened to Michael Foot and his donkey jacket? Well, I do and it's similar with Corbyn. Also, his crazy financial policies didn't help, particularly as he had no idea how to pay for them. Tax those who make wealth, those who set up businesses which create jobs, not a particularly good move.

I'm getting on with my writing. I seem to have found a way forward and as I write this I'm doing some research and have done quite a few pages which I'm writing in pencil, as I usually do and it will eventually get transcribed into word processing.

It is reasonably sunny at the moment and I will make something to eat for lunch and probably watch 'Bargain Hunt' as I eat. I hope it's a new episode rather than a repeat, but I suspect they will have suspended production because of the pandemic.

Later still. We may be in what is being called 'unprecedented times,' which is becoming something of a cliche and, frankly, rather an annoying term to describe the lockdown, due to the coronavirus pandemic, but we may be able to watch free presentations of theatre productions as a result. Most have been recorded with the intention of them then being broadcast in cinemas, although some have been 'live' broadcast. As all theatres are closed due to the pandemic, this is a good chance to see many of these theatre productions, and this evening I am watching a production of 'Hamlet,' which is a recording made at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre.

Cold and Windy

What would I do without the weather to write about in these blog posts? It's getting lighter each morning so I decided to take Alfie out for his routine walk after 7 o'clock, but it's colder and there's a very strong and keen wind blowing. Also, I'm off to the men's breakfast at 8 o'clock so I needed to be out earlier otherwise I wouldn't have time for Alfie's walk. He chased a cat and it ran up a low fence and he very nearly managed to catch it. Stupid cat, it sat on the fence and peered at Alfie, who behaved as most Yorkshire terriers do, determined to have words with the confounded thing! The wind was far too much for me. I don't want to get cold because of my heart condition so I made the decision to cut the walk short and made for home. I think Alfie appreciated my decision and was more than glad to get back into the warmth of the house.

I've been to the men's breakfast at the Oaktree Centre, home of Shenley Christian Centre. A cooked breakfast for £5 and plenty of good fellowship. As I'm sitting in the cafe area, the sun is shining. It's very spring-like. On the way back down Chaffron Way I am tailgated by this female who insists on sitting on my tail. Why do people think they have a right to do this? I'm only driving within my safe zone and no more. I have no desire to drive any faster.  I have a heart condition and I don't want my blood pressure increased. Do some drivers just have no respect for others? Or, if it comes to that, manners? So I decide to just drive slower, to annoy this woman. There is barely a mile between roundabouts in Milton Keynes, so why do I need to drive at over 60 m.p.h.? When I get home I decide I need to order repeat prescription meds and will need to go to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's, so drive out again immediately. I'm then somewhat annoyed that they have relocated some items within the store. I'm looking for Nivea shaving gel, which has been in exactly the same location on the shelves for I don't know how long. It seems that Valentine's Day items get preferential treatment and that my shaving gel (which no doubt doesn't come under Valentine's Day gift) has been moved slightly to a new location on the end of the aisle, which is further annoying me. But never mind. I managed to get the repeat prescription and all the other items and then day at the checkout and drive home.

I hear that Google+ is being closed down. I have an account, but, to be honest, I have no idea how it works. I had a Facebook account from fairly early on, basically because I needed to keep in contact with my daughter, Chloe, when she went away to school in Cambridge and then university. I had never heard of it until she told me about it. I am fairly computer literate and I enjoy discovering new things on the internet. I have put stuff on Google+ but I have simply no idea (until today) how you post comments or whatever on the site. It's just a mess (compared with Facebook) There is too much stuff and you just don't know where to post or write. Totally confusing. Will I miss it? Certainly not. What's to miss anyway?

Alfie's New Doggy Friend

(Wednesday) So, we have a beautifully groomed and clipped Alfie! Even his claws are trimmed! You can see his face properly! His eyes are clear and he doesn't now have that annoying fringe over his face. Infact, he looks sleek and efficient. As he should. He shouldn't need another trim until at least the Spring, probably April. 

Alfie is more than eager to get outside for his routine walk across Eaglestone Park. I have to get ready with my jacket and shoes on where he can't see me, otherwise I get a barrage of loud and persistent barking. I have my mobile in one pocket, a doggy bag in another along with my trusty G.T.N. spray. I usually have a few sprays under my tongue just in case and we set off, with Alfie yapping contentedly. We get part-way round the park when we hear a deep bark. Another dog. Alfie has been set free from his lead and round off to investigate and we come across two ladies walking a rather over-weight beagle, black-and-tan, but not too eager to befriend a small Yorkshire Terrier. Alfie runs rings round this dog, who is somewhat befuddled by the advances of poor Alfie, who just wants to be friends. Perhaps it's just too much for this poor dog. And no wonder. This dog makes me think of the beagle which used to appear in a cartoon strip in, I think, the Daily Mail, called Fred Bassett. It was created by Alex Graham. I am in the middle a writing project set in and around a park (not Eaglestone Park, by the way.) and Alfie is featuring heavily. I have it part-written, but a lot of it is in note-form. I will return to it when I get the opportunity, but the fact that we do our routine daily walk through the park is giving me plenty of inspiration. It is far easier to write about real situations, or at least, use them and fictionalise them, than to write imaginary situations. It makes what you write seem far more convincing. These blog posts are also useful for inspiration.

A Wet and Chilly Bank Holiday

Well, it looks as if the summer is going to end in cold and gloom. Having experienced some of the hottest weather of a summer since 1976 we're now having to put up with rain and cold. I drove to Shenley Christian Fellowship with rain pelting the windscreen and walking from the carpark getting soaking wet. I refused to wear a jacket of any sort, which was a bit stupid, but I didn't see the point when I'd left the house. How is it we almost always get rain when there's a Bank Holiday? And can anyone tell me why banks get a holiday? What one earth have they done to deserve one? Why not nurses, police, ambulance crews, train drivers? Or any of a host of employed personnel? Anyway, as I sit here, in our sitting room, typing away at this blog post, I can see out of the window as the rain pelts down, making a noise on the window glass. Alfie, our little Yorkshire Terrier, poked his head out of the patio door from our kitchen and couldn't decide whether to brave the elements when it was definitely clear that he would get really wet when he had to go out the other morning quite early. He doesn't like getting wet, and who can blame him?

We did go out early as we usually do each morning. He came across a lady walking with a sort of wheeled zimmer frame who had a poodle with her. Alfie ran off to greet the poor dog, but he kept running rings around this white dog. He just wants to be friends and, possibly, play with most of the dogs we encounter on our early-morning saunter around Eaglestone Park. 

So, there's be a lot of people out and about, going for day's out to the seaside, probably National Trust properties, castles, stately homes, zoos (such as Whipsnade.) who will have their day ruined by rain. Well, it's what you come to expect when there's a Bank Holiday. Sitting in their cars, with Aunty Ethel and Uncle Maurice in tow, in traffic jams across the length and breadth of Great Britain, having to put up with the kids squabbling in the back of the car and husband and wife arguing about the best route to take to their favourite destination.  Having real problems with the map, getting it upside down and not being able to read it properly, probably because they've left their best reading glasses behind at home. The car windows steaming up, because of the wet weather. The children constantly repeating 'are we there yet?' Then when they get to the seaside, finding many attractions on the seafront closed for repairs, the ice-cream sellers running out of ice-cream or cold drinks. Endless queues at the sea-front cafes and restaurants. The sun eventually comes out, periodically, but then when it does rain, running to shelter under shop-frontages. Then, when they do eventually get back to the car, finding the sandwiches they've bought with them have gone soggy and the Thermos tea stone cold.

This evening we watched the BBC Proms concert version of 'On The Town,' the musical which has a musical score written by Leonard Bernstein, because it's the centenary of his birth. A really rousing piece of theatre done with real gusto and the L.S.O. (London Symphony Orchestra) conducted by John Wilson. He's done many concerts for the Proms, sometimes resurrecting scores from musical films such as those produced by M.G.M., and one year he did a concert based on the scores used in Warner Brothers animated cartoons and a hilarious one using the Tom and Jerry cartoon scores. The musicians looked as if they were really enjoying themselves, making all the odd sound effects, car horns, whistles, bangs and crashes. I'm so glad that the BBC shows the proms, even if they hide it all away on a minority channel such as BBC Four. A pity really, but at least they're broadcast somewhere. Just a pity they couldn't put it on BBC1 so that more people could discover the wonders of classical music, which isn't all long-winded symphonies, some of the lighter pieces could introduce a completely new audience. Mind you, we weren't watching it 'live' and had it on iPlayer. The wonders of modern broadcasting.

Sunny and Warm

Goodness gracious! What's this? The sun is out. It's really warm. The past few days have been dull and overcast. On Wednesday it was foggy early and we had rain.

Wednesday we had to be at the Oncology Suite at Milton Keynes Hospital because Carol had the  beginning of the eight chemotherapy cycle. She wasn't due there until midday so we had time to take things slowly which was pleasant, not having to get up too early. We drove over to Rooksley as Carol wanted to visit Hobbycraft as she wanted to buy some crafting materials. As we parked the car near the store and got out to walk down to the entrance, Carol shrieked as she had seen a large rat. I looked down into the flower bed and saw the tail of a large grey rat scuttling away. I've seen several rats in Milton Keynes and had Alfie, or little Yorkshire Terrier, had been with us I'm sure he would have known how to deal with it. They say that you're always no more than six feet from a rat wherever you are. I can well believe that, considering how untidy people are, dropping litter and food which only attracts them. Not a pleasant thought.

The oncology suite was busy when we arrived. Unfortunately the carpark at the rear of the hospital, where we usually park, was full so I had to drive back to the front of the hospital and park in the ground-level carpark and walk back to the oncology suite. There seemed to be a shortage of nursing staff in the unit and again there was no receptionist on the reception desk as there was a few days ago when Carol had her blood test. The nurses are on the go all the time we are there. They never stop. I can never praise them enough as they do an amazing job and always do their jobs efficiently and exceptionally.

We had to go back to the oncology suite on Friday at around 4 p.m. so that Carol could have the pump she has removed. All seems to be going well and she has another M.R.I. scan on Wednesday and then a consultant's appointment on Friday so we should know what the next stage of her treatment is going to be.

I recently bought a Kindle Fire tablet, the HD 10 inch model. Considering the price, it is a really good piece of kit. Carol bought one a couple of years ago and she has been pleased with it, although by now it might be considered somewhat out of date, as all computing equipment has a limited life, when they keep on up-grading the operating systems they run on. I have downloaded the official Scrabble app and played this game on my own, versus the computer, but now Carol has the app on her Kindle and we have managed to play a game or two using both our Kindles. This will be good as a way to pass the time the next time we go to the oncology suite.

As I write this, it's Saturday afternoon and looking out of the lounge window I can see the sun is shining. The trees at the back of the house, all along the Redway, are beginning to come out in leaf. There is plenty of almond blossom coming out all over Eaglestone estate. The bird-feeder is busy with a wide variety of birds visiting, but I'm not so sure I want squirrels eating the food which is really intended for them. We've had two competing squirrels on the thing, doing their usual acrobatics. I think I'm going to have to buy a baffle to go on the upright to deter them.

Alfie Gets Crafty

I've mentioned in several of my blog posts about Alfie, our Yorkshire Terrier. He's a very bright and intelligent little dog. I've explained about the Comic Relief ball which he loves. If it's dropped or hit, it makes a laughing sound, which sets off Alfie howling. He's quite capable of setting it off himself. He can even throw it, which seems unlikely, but he is able to set it off. I have to take it away and put it in one of the drawers in the bookshelf nearby. He knows very well where it is and stands and looks at the shelf. There is a footstool near the shelving and he'd grown wise to the fact that if he jumps onto this stool he can then stand up with his back legs on this stool and his front legs on the shelves and very nearly climbs up to the drawer with the Comic Relief ball in it.

He had a Baker's treat tin for Christmas. He knows exactly what's in this tin. He will go and look at the tin, in expectation of getting a treat from it. We set up a game with him, hiding several treats around the room for him to find, which he does without any problems. His new game is to tap the tin with his paw. The lid of the tin has got somewhat bent, so it won't now close properly, so I've had to put the tin out of his reach, otherwise he will be able to help himself to treats. It can be quite easy for him to  help himself, so it's a good idea to have it up out of reach on the shelf.

His new trick is to bark whenever Carol needs help with something. She just needs to move about upstairs when I'm in the lounge, and he starts barking, as if to tell me I should be doing something upstairs to help. Just moving about without it being something important, and it sets him off barking. Alfie would make a very good assistance dog, perhaps for someone who has a hearing problem or perhaps has a vision problem. He could go and find them and bark if the telephone or doorbell rang or an alarm went off. He's good at letting you know what he wants, staring at whatever it is until you deal with it.

Alfie sleeps on our bed. He always has done, from when he was a puppy. Whether it's right to let him do so, I don't know. He can jump up on the bed, he's perfectly capable, but we usually pick him up. Carol sleeps on one side, and me, obviously, on the other. Alfie finds his place under the duvet, where he knows he'll be safe and warm and pushes up against my back. But when I get out of the bed, he often manages to shift his position to the exact spot which I've vacated, often with his head on the pillow. He won't move unless I make a comment. This is definitely one of his vary crafty little things he does. But for a small dog he takes up quite a lot of room, stretching himself out on the bed, but usually he curls up in a ball.

Sunny and Bright

What a difference a few days can make, particularly in regards to the weather. We've been spending the morning waiting for Carol's mum and dad to arrive from Bournemouth, so we've been cleaning the house. I've been using the cordless vacuum cleaner we've bought, which compliments the G-Tech one we bought the other week. This is a Multi, also made by G-Tech and makes light work of cobwebs and the dust you can't reach with a standard machine. None of the trailing cables or tubes which cause so many problems. You can get between those awkward places where dust and fluff gathers (particularly in the kitchen, between the cooker and the units either side.) The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the house is now relatively clean. I think the fact that the sun is out makes doing jobs like cleaning far easier, it's good for your mental state and helps inspire you to get on with what are generally boring jobs such as house-cleaning.

We drove over to Newport Pagnall where Carol's mum and dad were going to stay. They'd been bought up to Milton Keynes by Carol's sister who was going to be at some needlework event at the hotel so they had booked several nights in the same hotel. We'd driven out to find the hotel yesterday evening so we knew where to go this morning. A good idea as we have a propensity for not finding places or at least getting lost. They were due to arrive around lunch-time so we got to Newport Pagnall at around 1 o'clock. It took us a while to find the hotel entrance which was badly sign-posted, having parked the car in a side-road near the hotel. There were a few ladies waiting in the reception-area who were obviously part of the needlework event and then Jacqueline and Carol's mum and dad turned up, Jackie parking in a space near the hotel entrance. We went with Carol's mum and dad and went to a rather nice pub along the street from the hotel and had some drinks and rolls for lunch and then returned to the hotel. We drove back home to Eaglestone with Carol's parents and spent a couple of hours in the house and had our evening meal and then took them back to the hotel. We're going early tomorrow morning to pick them up to take them out tomorrow for the day.

I currently have got Alfie, our Yorkshire Terrier, being very demanding. I bought him a tin for his treats for Christmas. He knows perfectly well what's in this Baker's dog-food tin which is on the table next to my armchair where I'm typing this blog. I have already given him three of these treats. He's prodding the tin with his nose or his paw. He's even managed to get the lid to open, goodness knows how. I trust he wouldn't be able to get the treats out of the tin, but who knows, as he's a very bright and clever little dog. Since he's been groomed and had most of his coat removed, he's wearing a rather smart knitted jumper which will keep him warm. He rather likes it. When Carol found it and he saw it he was almost asking to have it to wear. 

Alfie's Little Ways

Alfie, our little Yorkshire Terrier,  is flat out asleep on the sofa as I write this. He's become a bit of an attention-seeker at the moment. I think he's concerned about Carol being ill. He doesn't seem to understand why she's at home all the time as she's off work, sick. Its strange how he knows there's something not quite right.  He becomes very attached to us both, particularly me. Apparently, when I went off to church this morning, he sat and waited for me until I got home. He barks at me when I come in, as if he's telling me off for going out of the house and leaving him. If Carol is in pain and in another room in the house, for example, the bedroom, he often comes to find me and barks as if telling me to do something about it. I have no choice to go and find out what I can do, to get pain-relief medication or whatever. He also goes outside into the garden and barks for no apparent reason, possibly if there is a noise beyond the garden, someone going past on the Redway or in the road outside. 

Alfie, modelling the blanket that Carol made for him

There are some things that Alfie doesn't particularly like, particularly when he's on the sofa. He seems to dislike cushions, and if they're in the way, he will push them off with his nose. He has a couple of blankets which he likes to arrange into a bed. Carol has croched him one of his own (see the above photograph.) and if it's folded across the back of the sofa, he will attempt to pull if off by clawing at it until it falls off.

I usually check emails just before I go to bed, or watch something on television. He has his dinner at virtually the same time every evening. If Carol has gone upstairs, he will stay with me in the lounge. If I'm on the laptop, I end what I'm doing and he knows that I'm about to go upstairs and immediately barks. Sharp little dog, has worked out that as soon as I shut down the laptop I'll go upstairs. So he barks to remind me, or so I assume.

He'll ask to be let out into the garden and usually goes outside, but there are other times when he gets you to open the sliding patio door and then just pokes his head outside, as if to see whether it's raining, but doesn't go out. Other times, and this seems to be a terrier trait, he will just sit in the opened space in the door and just stare out at the garden. Our dog, Poppy, who died last February, did the same. Another typical terrier trait is sitting on the back of the sofa. My parent's little Jack Russel terrier used to sit in a similar manner on the armchairs or even the back of the seats in the cars we had when I was growing up. Also, Alfie likes to lay on the floor, flat on his stomach, with his back legs stretched out. Seems that this is also a terrier trait.

Alfie is quite good at asking whenever he wants something. He gives you eye-contact . He loves the Comic Relief ball (which I've mentioned in earlier blog posts.) If he wants to play with it, he will usually sit directly in front of you, usually whenever we're watching television, and stare at the ball where it's placed up on the bookshelf. Then, if I pick it up and throw it on the floor, (it has to be hard enough to set the thing 'laughing.') he goes into his backing routine, throwing back his head and yowling (not sure that's the right word.) and also barking until the thing stops it sound. The thing has been running down for the past year or two, so Carol had to do an operation on an older one and transferred to the newer one. I just wish they'd bring out a new version as these things are difficult to replace.

Generally, Alfie is quiet and makes very little noise, apart from the occasional bark. We don't have a door-bell, but what makes us laugh is when we're watching television and during the action a doorbell rings and he barks. How does he associate that with our front door, someone being there or that it requires him to bark for whatever reason? I have described on many occasions on here how, if he realises that we're going out, for a walk, or he's going to go with us in the car, he becomes a completely different little dog, going into what we call 'Tasmanian Devil-Mode,' growling, barking and even getting hold of his lead  with his teeth and not letting go and also becoming quite aggressive and even attempting to bite if you get your hand in his way or scratching with his claws, which can be quite painful.

Alfie is very playful. He has this little game he has with things like dog biscuit or any treats he is given. Usually if you give him a treat, one of those chunky treats for example, he will eat it immediately, but he also does this thing where he will sit and watch whatever it is, then barks, then gets up and does a sort of spin around, pokes it with his nose and spins around again. When Poppy was alive, he used to shoot off upstairs when he was given a treat because Poppy would often pinch them off him. He is somewhat schizophrenic as I've described in his 'Tasmanian Devil mode. Considering that, when we lived at the house in Crownhill and the house was invaded by rats (read the earlier blog post for full details of all this.) Alfie caught and eventually managed to kill a huge rat, it just goes to show how a little dog of his size could manage to kill something so large. It goes to show how plucky a Yorkie can be when confronted by such a thing as a rat.

Alfie has become very concerned if he's done something wrong, for example, that he's done a wee on the floor. These little accidents do happen, particularly if he can't get outside if it's raining or we don't get to open the door for him on time. He knows perfectly well when he's done something wrong. You can generally tell when he's upset because his ears are laid back against his head. They're a good sign of how he's feeling. If you say 'bad' he knows he's done something wrong, but of late he puts on this act of being pathetic, as if he thinks he's done something wrong, when it's clear to us that he hasn't. He's a very sensitive little dog, one of the charms of Alfie. He picks up any emotions we have, particularly at present with Carol ill and at home.

Alfie can be very picky about what he eats. It's no use changing what he's given to eat as he's not likely to eat it. He's usually fed at around 7-7.30 each evening. He gets mixer and canned dog food, usually meat in jelly or gravy. If we're eating he will often come and sit in front of us and try and get something from us, scraps of food, but we don't encourage this too much. But if he's offered anything he can sometimes sniff at it or lick it and then not eat it. I know dogs should never eat of our plates, but he does finish off whatever we leave on our plates. He is somewhat addicted to tea, and if we're having a cup of tea he gets to finish the dregs at the bottom of our cups or mugs. Poppy used to be very tea-orientated and I think the habit of letting her have the dregs passed on to Alfie when we first got him as a puppy.

Alfie and the Squirrel

We've had a visit from an extremely cheeky and crafty squirrel to our garden over the past couple of days. This might explain why Alfie, our little Yorkshire Terrier, keeps on disappearing into the garden. He spends quite a lot of time in the rather over-grown area near the fence at the bottom of the garden and near the shed (a polite way to describe the wreck of a shed as it's totally unusable as it is.) The squirrel has been seen actually IN the garden, darting about in the long grass. It has been on the shed roof and flicking it's tail about in an agitated fashion. It then climbed about in the over-hanging branches of the trees and then on the fence to the left. It seems to be keen to find a way to get at the food on the bird feeding station. A couple of years ago we had our feeding station a good deal closer to the shed that belongs to our neighbours, Garry and Shelley. A squirrel actually JUMPED from the roof of this shed onto the bird feeding station and managed to perch on the thing, and at one point hung upside-down on it in order to eat some of the food. It's a wonder that this crafty squirrel didn't impale itself on the pointy finial on the top of this thing! It even managed to climb the metal pole of this feeding station. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw all these acrobatics. This latest visitor is so cheeky, it even stares at the house to find out if Alfie is about before venturing further. 

Sad Week

I have attempted to avoid writing this blog post. I've mentioned Poppy, one of our dogs. Her health began to deteriorate a few months ago. Infact, thinking back, I think it began when we went for the week's holiday to the South Downs, and which ended abruptly because of the awful weather we experienced and the fact that the electricity was cut off which forced us to leave after only a few days. Poor Poppy (as well as Alfie, our Yorkshire Terrier.) did not react well to not only the awful weather, but the fact that she wasn't supposed to follow us upstairs to the bedroom at night. The cottage we rented wasn't really dog-friendly, as it was advertised. It was a quite difficult experience for not only ourselves, but the dogs.

Poppy died on Saturday. As I say, her health deteriorated gradually over the last few months. Her weight came off very dramatically, so much so that she became just thin, she looked as if we didn't look after her. Very far from the case. Her eyesight went. It was clear that she could no longer see. Her eyes looked as if they had cataracts. I have known Carol for a little over 10 years, and in all that time Poppy had been around. She would have been around 3 years old when we first met. She'd always been an active little dog, gone on walks with us, gone with us on holidays. She could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to. Also, very loving and great fun to have around. We got Alfie around a few months after we got married in 2007. We wondered, when we bought him home as a puppy, how Poppy would react, having a young pup in the house. We needn't have worried. There were a few issues during the first year or so, some quite scary particularly incidents when they had fights. I imagine it was something to do with the fact that he was a male and she a female and she was older and sort of 'top dog.' That behaviour disappeared after a while. 

We knew it was clear that Poppy's health was going to deteriorate further. Well, she was 14 years old. Her eyesight was going to get worse. She began to bark relentlessly, no doubt to try to find out where we were. She managed to find her way around the house, she knew where the garden door was, her food bowl (always had a good appetite and managed to eat plenty, although, at the end of her life she never put on any weight, considering the amount she could put away.) She kept on wandering around the house, rarely settled anywhere, although she would sleep for very long periods. She used to know more or less when Carol was coming home, would wait for her at around the time she would come in from work. It's strange how dogs know this sort of thing, although no doubt it's because they get used to our routine.

We would have wanted Poppy to have had a natural death, but it wasn't to be. Knowing her, she might have gone on for a few months more, but for us it was heartbreaking to see her deteriorating so dramatically. So, it was Carol's decision to have her put to sleep. It was by no means a decision that was made lightly. We went to our vets and arranged for this to happen last Saturday. Not a day that was easy, infact, very difficult for both of us. It was very emotional and sad. There, I'v managed to writ about it on this blog. 

We're not sure whether Alfie has missed Poppy. It's difficult to tell whether he has actually noticed her absence. I expect he has, because she's always been around, they've been together around 11 years. I expect he must have wondered where she is, why she's not coming back. Does he think, maybe they''ll go out and bring her home? He's now centre of attention. How do dogs show emotion? They always seem to know when we're not well, or there's something emotional going on. What do they sense? Is it a smell we give off? I know that dogs have  an exceptionally good sense of smell, so what is it? 

Alfie, shorn!

I've been attempting to find a dog groomer to have Alfie, our Yorkshire Terrier, clipped. He has quite a long coat and it gets matted easily. He had one or two quite nasty tangles. He also gets really horrible 'bits' under his eyes, sort of clogged-up hair, that look particularly nasty. Most dogs seem to get these and he doesn't like it if you try to remove them. His nails needed trimming. Just don't attempt this as he'd nip you. I don't like doing it as I'd worry I'd hurt him. Last year I booked a mobile grooming service, a lady who came in a really well-equipped van which she parked at the front of the house. She did a good job and it seemed the most stress-free way to get him groomed. I attempted to get her to come again this year, but she was totally booked up. I then went on the internet to try and find another, I think I contacted three more mobile groomers, but they were all booked solid. We have taken both dogs to Pets At home and used the Grooming Room there. There is another branch at the Beacon Retail Park at Bletchley, where there is also a Boots, Brantano, Greggs, Argos and T.K. Maax. I went in there about a month ago and managed to book Alfie in for a trim and it was at 1 p.m. yesterday. We went to Sainsbury's to do our weekly shop at around 9 o'clock and came home and then the process of getting Alfie loaded up to take out later began. I had to get the cage into the back of the car without him seeing, because, being a very sharp, intelligent little dog, he soon picks up that we are planning to take him out. Having dropped him off we had two hours to fill, so we went to have a lunch at The Caldecotte Arms, a favourite place for us. It's a really popular place, and at lunchtime on a Saturday, no more so, heaving with young families. Set beside a lake, quite a pleasant enough spot to have a bite to eat and a walk in the spring sunshine. It has a windmill set in the middle of the building and you can sit inside and you get quite a good view, although I'm not sure whether it's a genuine windmill. You can't miss it as you drive past and it can be seen from the A5 and as you drive along the Grid Road that runs past. This is a Fayre and Square restaurant, a bit like a Wetherspoon's, which we use regularly, having good value meals which you order at the bar along with your drinks. We went for the 2 meals for £10. I ordered lasagne and Carol had a burger. We also had garlic bread which we shared. It was quite difficult to find a table that was free but eventually found one as far away in the corner as it was possible. We thought it was going to be quiet, but I went to the toilet (why are such conveniences hidden away where you least expect them to be, although it was reasonably well signposted.) and by the time I got back there was a family with a couple of children on the next table. It was alright, but they were rather noisy. Looking out of the window we could see the lake and a great many geese and ducks. The ducks had youngsters, and we could see a couple of boys who were looking at them and we thought that they were going to upset the duckings, but fortunately this didn't happen. We ate our meal and when we left we had around three-quarters of an hour before Alfie was due to be finished at the groomers. We drove back to the retail park at Bletchley and parked. It was quite difficult to find a space as it was really busy. We spent some time browsing in Boots. Carol was looking for a present for a colleague at work who is leaving at the end of a week to have a baby, but she didn't see exactly what she wanted although she had to see how much cash was in the collection they had made in her department at Milton Keynes Academy before making a definite decision.

Alfie, back home, after he'd been to the grooming parlour.

We went to Pets At Home to browse further and then went to pick up Alfie. Really quite shocked by how much hair they had removed. Actually much better as his coat had got really matted and untidy. The last time we had him groomed at the other branch in Rooksley Alfie was totally silent when he collected him. No doubt the whole process of being groomed was too traumatic for him. They did some extra work, I'm not exactly sure what, but giving his paws a polish or something and his nails were nice and short. He rode back in the cage in the car, totally silent.

Dogs (and other Pets)

We always had dogs when I was a child. My father had greyhounds, although I don't really think they'd be classed as 'pets' as such. They lived in their own kennels and there was a run for them in the garden at Malting Farm. Some were put into greyhound races, but others were used for coursing. I know it's not considered 'P.C.' (Politically Correct) and hunting with dogs is now illegal, that is still what they were basically used for. I'm not going to get into a discussion on the rights or wrongs of it in this post, although in some sense, in the early part of the 21st Century, perhaps it's a good thing that we don't continue with such things, but I'm not convinced one way or the other. One of the dogs won some race, it may have been at the White City Stadium in London, back in the early 1960's, because he had a large trophy which sat on the sideboard in the lounge at Malting Farm, which was the prize for this race. I'm not sure whether there was any money involved. Dad was a greyhound trainer, which is one reason the greyhounds were kept in separate accommodation. There were several litters of puppies born at Malting Farm, and the dogs made exceptionally good mothers. Contrary to what you believe about greyhounds they are very affectionate and do make good pets and I know people re-home retired greyhounds. One, in particular, called Ben, who became a stud dog, was often bought into the house and made a fuss of, but unfortunately he was poisoned during one event, I think the Waterloo Cup, which was held every year in Lancashire (now no more since 'hunting with dogs' is illegal.) Although you must not call greyhounds 'dogs.' I don't know what the outcome of the poor animal who was poisoned, whether the culprit was found or whether the police were involved. I think the poison was paraquat or some sort of poison used to keep down weeds.

Being a farm, there were always labradors around, usually black. Beautiful creatures used to retrieve game during shooting expeditions and the annual 'shoot', which was quite a big event, culminating in a large meal, provided by my mother and comprised of quite an elaborate meal in the dining room at Malting Farm. Later, my brother Andrew had a black-and-white Cocker spaniel, called Pippa, who came from a litter produced by a bitch owned by my Kendall cousins who lived at Eyeworth, near Sandy. Pippa was a sweet-natured little dog, who always went around with a wagging tail. We went to Fronton-On-Sea for summer holidays as well as to Brightlingsea, a little further down the Essex coast, where my father had a sailing boat called 'Flashpoint' on which we occasionally stayed. The boat was moored in the Colne estuary, and to get to it you had to use a small rubber boat or 'tender.' Trying to get out to the yacht with a load of shopping as well as Pippa was quite an ordeal. She had a tendency to always want to swim, which is what all spaniels seem to love. But on one particular occasion, she decided that she couldn't be contained on board ship for too long and took off by jumping in. But, as there was a  strong tide in the Colne estuary, she got caught in a song current which means she could possibly get back to the yacht. So we had to get in the tender and row after her in order to rescue her, otherwise, she would have been lost and possibly drowned. Even though she was a strong swimmer, she couldn't swim fast enough against the rapidly ebbing tide and would have been swept out to sea, never to be seen again. On the beach at Fronton, Pippa would enjoy the sea, and it was quite difficult to keep her out of the water. Her one abiding passion was chasing things, which is what a Cocker excels at, along with swimming. It was at a time when Frisbees were all the fashion, but if anyone was seen playing with one, usually someone or other of our family or friends, or complete strangers, merely throwing the things between one another, Pippa had the idea that the Frisbee was being thrown for her entertainment, and if the thing landed, she would run and pick it up and play with it herself, which could be quite embarrassing, particularly as she had a tendency to chew the things.

My brother James had a couple of black labradors. One I think was called Flon. She had a tendency to run off. As a child, I seem to remember another black labrador called Sorrel. I don't remember much about this dog. We had small Jack Russel Terriers in the 1960 and 70s. We had a small, tan and white terrier which had a wiry coat and called Honey. Unfortunately, it died. I think Dad took it to show the greyhounds and one barked and it scared the poor little pup to death. Sad. A really sweet little dog. I think she came from family friends who lived in Carlton, whose dog had puppies. Then Dad got another little Jack Russel, small, black and white and with an undershot jaw. Funny how you remember these things. She was called Spike. I don't know why. I think it was because her tail was like a spike. Then we got a second dog, a bit bigger than Spike, who got called Milligan, after the Goon's writer and comedian. I think it seemed an obvious name, come to think of it. He was black and white with tan markings, on his face and legs. He took to me and pined when I went to school. He used to sleep on my bed and followed me around like a shadow. Unfortunately, he rather liked the neighbour's chickens. I think he might have chased a few and killed them. Then he wasn't around anymore. I don't know what happened to him. Went to a new home, away from chickens. I was quite upset, as you can imagine. Then, a few years later another dog came into our lives, another Jack Russell Terrier. She was called Lucy. She had a problem with her skin. She got an allergic reaction to flea bites and her skin came out in a horrible load of sores. She was small, and to relieve the itching caused by the sores she rubbed herself underneath the armchairs in the lounge and made the sores bleed. Poor little thing. She had a sort of epileptic fit one evening when she was let out into the garden. It was quite distressing to see this, laying on her pack, with her legs shaking. She came out of it a few minutes later, but I thought she was going to die. I just think she was prone to have an odd sort of metabolism or something, which meant her heart raced at too high a level, which was what caused the epileptic fit.

Another dog we had, probably a good deal earlier, was a dachshund, called Chippy. He was light brown with white markings. He was very like a sausage (I know, dachshunds are often called 'Sausage Dogs.) and called Chipolata, hence, Chippy for short. He loved music, or so he seemed to, because if you were to play a mouth-organ (or harmonica) he would howl along. It was very amusing. He got his tail, which was very long for such a little dog, and got caught in the rear door when my mother had a Hillman Husky, which had a rear door which was operated by a lever on the car's dashboard. How on earth his tail got caught in the door when it got shot I really don't know, but as a result, the end of his tail had about half an inch missing. It never recovered and ended in a rather abrupt tip and the hair never grew back.

So, now Carol and I have two dogs, as you will know if you have been reading my posts on here over the years. The oldest one, Poppy, is a Shitsu-West Highland Terrier cross. She has a stubborn streak and does what she wants, particularly when we take her out for a walk, and you have to put her back on her lead and she runs off and won't return. When I first met her, at Carol's house in Crownhill (a good ten years ago now.) she was so excited to meet me that she weed on my leg! Take her anywhere with water, such as a lake or river, and before you know it, she'll be in and swimming.
The other dog we have is Alfie, who is a Yorkshire Terrier. A faithful little dog, who took to me very early on and follows me around the house like a shadow. He's even-tempered and has a lot of courage, especially when we're out walking and he comes across far larger dogs. He hates cats and if one comes into our garden he barks loudly. Both dogs sleep on our bed at night, but disturb Alfie at your peril and he will growl to warn you off. He doesn't like being disturbed and falls asleep at the merest opportunity.

My brother Robert was keen on horses. We had a pony called Meg from quite early on and Andrew had a couple of ponies, one called Whiskey, a black and white pony as well as a white one whose name I forget. My younger brother, Sandy, used to go to gymkhanas around Bedfordshire and take part in the various events and got quite good at it. I'm not sure these are still going, but there used to be an annual one at Clapham as well as the Young Farmers' rally at Silsoe. My grandmother Ferriman was President or something for several years. I do recall, from quite an early age, being taken to these events, even though I never took part. I did ride, occasionally, but what put me off was all the mucking out and tack cleaning which went with caring for horses. The fact that I was kicked by one of the horses and then bitten by another, quite badly, in the fleshy part of my arm, might have something to do with it, as well as being on one of the ponies which bolted with me on board and nearly going through a five-bar gate has definitely got something to do with it!

I'm fairly certain we had other pets. A budgerigar, which I seem to remember lived in a cage in the kitchen at Malting Farm. Whether it was male or female I have no idea. There was a tortoise, but it lived in the garden and wandered as tortoises do and was rarely seen, no doubt hiding away amidst the flowers and other plants, but was rarely seen. Which makes me wonder how it ever survived winter. No doubt it hibernated somewhere or other. One of my brothers, Robert perhaps, had a fish in a tank, and I think it was in his bedroom, but whether it survived I can't recall. That is all I can remember of any pets we had as children. Growing up on a farm there were always animals, such as cows and pigs (I don't actually think there were pigs at Malting Farm. The Porter's, who lived next door, had a pig unit, and there were some at Mill Farm, my grandfather's farm. Sheep didn't come onto the farm until my eldest brothers took over when my father retired in the 1970's. We were never allowed to become to attached or over sentimental with any of the animals, although we sometimes reared some of them, such as bucket-feeding calves. They were all treated with respect and had good lives.  And my mother had chickens and we had chicks which were hatched somewhere or other and put in a deep litter house and laid eggs which were sold.

Alfie Goes Walkabout Again

It's 5.45 a.m. and I go downstairs to make tea, as I do every morning. Alfie follows me down to the kitchen and goes to the sliding patio doors expecting to be let out. I set up the mugs on the worktop along with filling up the kettle at the sink (now, fortunately, running away smoothly.) Having finished at the worktop I let Alfie out, but as I do so next door's cat is seen disappearing over the fence. Alfie shoots off across the garden, chasing the cat, barking noisily. I call after him, but he ignores me and then he disappears through the hole in the fence. I am not exactly over-pleased, as you can imagine. I chase after him, calling for him and going to the hole in the fence. No sign of small Yorkshire Terrier, as it's pitch black and with the small pocket torch I attempt to shine the rather ineffectual pool of light produced by the torch through the hole into the trees behind the fence and lining the Redway behind the garden. From previous similar escaping dog events from Alfie, I would have expected him to yap when I call his name. I panic as I'm not sure where he is. I return to the house to see whether he has gone back into the bedroom, as he has a habit of hiding either behind the sofa in the lounge or upstairs and under the bed. He will hide in these places if he thinks he has done something wrong. Meanwhile, Carol has come out and is vainly calling for Alfie but still no success in finding him. Our other dog, Poppy, is in the kitchen and barking noisily near the patio door. It's as if she's trying to tell us something. We can hear Alfie's bark from somewhere, but it's not clear where. Then I go out into the garden, having by now changed out of my slippers into my trainers as I went across the wet grass in them and as a result got my feet sopping wet. I go to the clapped-out shed, which has the door hanging off as the hinges have given up and it's been kept up with a variety of oddments to keep it shut. I can hear Alfie inside the shed and have to pull the door open as best I can and there he is inside. I have to pull him out of the shed through the narrow gap in the door by catching hold of his collar and dragging him out. I still have no idea how he manages to get into the shed, but as he's so small he can get through almost any small hole. But I'm just glad to have him back, safe and sound. I know he wouldn't go far as he's not the world's most brave little dog and would not have survived very long when it's cold and wet. Relief all round. I actually get to complete the making of the tea which I had been attempting to make when all the bother over the escaping Alfie began. He doesn't wander far when we go of a walk and he's let off his lead. He will run ahead and keeps within eye contact of use and will run back to use when called so it's odd that he was in the shed and didn't respond by barking when I was calling him. I was just so worried that he might have run off and got on the road and got run over which would be tragic and doesn't bear thinking about.

As I've said on here before, our landlord had promised faithfully to repair the fence and after something like five months we are still waiting for something to be done. The state of the fence has deteriorated considerably since we had the visit when they surveyed the fence and we signed a new tenancy agreement and when we moved away from renting the house through Smartmove rental agency. I can't in all honesty see why it has taken so long to get things fixed. We know it was difficult to get new fence panels after the high winds of earlier this year, when no doubt a lot of fences got blown down in the same way that ours got blown down. We spent some time looking for replacement panels in various garden centres and builder's merchants in and around the Milton Keynes and Buckinghamshire area, but I can't see why the landlord couldn't have done something to at least fix the fence even if it's on a temporary basis.

Funny Alfie!

Our Yorkshire terrier, Alfie, is a real character. He has lots of toys which not only keep us amused, but he gets a great deal of amusement himself from them. He has a typical Yorkie habit, no doubt how he would kill a rat (which is what they were originally bred for) by picking it up and shaking it vigorously and growling noisily. We witnessed his ability to kill a rat when we had them running around our former home in Cownhill. One morning he managed to corner a huge rat in the kitchen and he dispatched it by shaking it. This is mentioned in more detail in an earlier post on here. He has a basket of his toys (shared, I hasten to add, with our other dog, Poppy.) He can be most protective of these toys which we have managed to purchase over a number of years from supermarkets and pet shops in and around Milton Keynes. This evening he was playing with one such toy, which is a sort of monkey creature. He shook it so hard it flew across the room and behind the television set. I could only reach it by using a broom handle. He then shook the toy and it again flew across the room. He darted round behind the sofa, came out the other side and bounced- or appeared to bounce- from one side of the sofa to the other. Really amusing. He has a Comic Relief ball, which is bright red and with a silly face embroidered on it. When you drop it on the floor, an electronic chip inside is activated, and it has the sound of a rather over-acted giggle and laugh, which sets off Alfie barking. It is quite amusing when he throws his head back and howls at it. He even knows that if he prods it or drops it it will start making it's giggling sound. This ball is kept on the bookshelf in the lounge and he knows exactly where it is kept, and when he wants to play with it he will go to the shelf and stand with his front paws on the top of the first shelf and stare at it until you take the ball down from it's place and drop it on the floor.We don't allow this much more than once a day as his bowing can begin to get a bit annoying and may upset our neighbours.

Wheels, Woods, Wags, Walkies and Water

We cycled around the estate yesterday. I'm fine on my new Muddyfox bike, but Carol had been having problems with her new bike. She couldn't fathom the gears, which admittedly is quite difficult as with something like 21 gears and two levers one on each handlebar, it can be quite tricky getting the right gear for the correct speed and pedalling. We went round the estate several times. I just want to ride along the Redway for a distance to get myself fully conversant with the machine. Great as it is, I haven't cycled for quite a while. Also, I have never ever owned a brand new bicycle before. The one I did own and I used to cycle to school on (a good many years ago now, forsooth!) was a machine handed down from my eldest brother, James. It was later stolen from outside a house I lived in many years ago in Tyne Crescent, Bedford. Which was a pity, as it was a good machine. A bright blue Rudge. Amazing that I remember the brand.

The weather has been unsettled which is why we haven't been out too much recently. No good going out in pouring rain. I must buy a bike lock so that when I park at various locations, such as the local shops or even church, there is no chance that somebody can even attempt to steal the new machine, which would be both annoying and a great shame. It's appalling that you can't trust people to leave your property alone, but never mind. Also, I think I need to buy a helmet as there have been far too many accidents with people falling off their machines and hitting their heads.

Earlier this morning we went to D.W. Fitness. It opened at 8 a.m. so we must have been amongst the first customers through the door. It was great that there were very few people in the pool. Why do people who exercise always look so miserable? Why do they almost all seem so humourless? We did around 20 lengths of the pool. I spent some time in what I call the 'hot cupboard,' the steam room. Very hot and steamy (!) and does you a power of good, sweating out all those toxins etc etc. We sat in the jacuzzi for a good 20 minutes and then back in the pool for a further four lengths. Then one of the swimming instructors came in along with a few parents with children which decided us on getting out and dressed as it gets really crowded and noisy when the children are doing their swimming lessons. All very well, but it doesn't do my motivation much good. We went home and had toasted buns to eat and tea and coffee. There is always the temptation to have food in the cafe at D.W. but it can be quite expensive. It's a good year at least since we signed up. 

Later, when we'd looked at the situation regarding the weather, we decided to take the dogs out for a walk at Rushmere Park, near Leighton Buzzard. Getting Alfie, our little Yorkshire Terrier, into his harness and then into the car is a real problem. We take him out in a cage which is in the back of the car and I had to make sure it was installed within the car before he came out and that he didn't see me doing this as he gets so over-excited. We managed to get him in the lounge on his own while Carol got Poppy into her harness in the kitchen. Alfie became like a demon-possessed creature and I could hear him attacking the doors and making the most appalling noise. Goodness knows what the neighbours must have thought if they could hear his commotion. They must have done, as he was really loud. We eventually managed to get him harnessed and into the back on the car in the cage and we gingerly drove out of Milton Keynes and onto the A5 towards Leighton Buzzard and the country park at Rushmere. 

The dogs had a great time when we let them off their leads. Alfie runs ahead of us and approaches any people he sees along the path, regardless of whether they want to be assaulted by a small terrier. Poppy just ambles along and it was very pleasant with the sun shining through the trees. 

They have made some improvements since we were last there, with a new cafe just opened and a brand new toilet block near the visitors centre. I have to admit that the old toilets there were somewhat unsavoury to say the least.

We were going to have ice creams from the cafe, but Carol found that there wasn't much of a choice and they were somewhat over-priced so we didn't partake. We left and drove out of the carpark and through the barrier where you have to pay £2 to get the barrier to open so you can exit.

It was at this point that Carol decided she wanted chocolate cake (as you do!) so we went to Dobbie's garden centre which is just off the A5 at the roundabout near Fenny Stratford. No sooner had we parked the car than Alfie started yapping. He had been quiet up until this point, but we had to leave the dogs in the car when we went inside the garden centre and into the food hall to find suitable cake. I did think £4.50 for a small chocolate cake somewhat over-priced, but, on getting home and after unloading the dogs, I made tea and we ate some of, what turned out to be very tasty and moreish chocolate cake!