Middle of the book photos...

Action shots...

Hounds in action..........

Rescue hounds look for lost hiker...........

 

Author under Basset attack..........................

Be afraid.....

Holiday hounds.

April brought about whole a whole new scenario. We usually travel to India, where for two weeks we are involved in a number of physical activities. My personal favourites include:~  Walking to the beach. Drinking on the beach. Sleeping on the beach. Eating on the beach. Reading on the beach. Fishing on the beach. I am Olympic standard at all. Once I even walked to another beach hut some 25 feet away. 

My luggage on the way out on the last trip weighed 6 and ¾ ounces ( I must try and get some lighter flip flops) and consisted of ; shorts (one) khaki, shirt (one) white cheap/nasty and flip-flops (pair) yellow ~73p in 1981. I also (of course) have my male toiletries. Soap (one) bar Tesco Value, toothbrush (one) Spider-Man handle. I used the plastic bags they give out for liquids as my hand luggage bag.     

Since the Monty & Lewis Show had moved in I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be holidaying in the back garden. Any beach activities would be restricted to sweeping up the bags of builder’s Sharp sand that Lewis had very kindly ripped open and distributed about the garden. The hounds new beach volleyball court was coming along nicely. 

Imagine then, my reaction when a friend (Sean) said the immortal words, “ Why don’t you just go on holiday, I’ll have the dogs……………..” 

I remember this and shall do  for years to come. As Sean mouthed the words my entire world was drawn to his features. Everything slowed to the slowest slow-mo shot imaginable. I could see every syllable and vowel being announced. It was as if the slow-mo shot was deliberately over emphasising the shape and texture of every word. …. “  I   w   i   l  l     h   a   v   e     t   h   e     d  o  g   s …” 

My heart pounded. Standing in our back garden I turned, (also in slow motion) to Monty and Lewis. At the very end of the sentence both hounds stopped eating the very expensive garden flowers planted 23 seconds earlier.  Lewis, with tomato plant and Monty, with banana tree turned to face me. The dust from their self appointed volleyball court was settling around their heads and rose in the warm air and sunlight. Monty smiled a demonic smile. Lewis spat out the tomato plant. He sensed a whole new awakening. A new garden, a new lawn, new furniture and new challenges. Monty crouched and considered the possibilities. Be afraid Sean…oh yes, be afraid……      

Sean was sober, Sean had not taken any form of narcotic. He was fairly normal and yet he’d still said it. Part of me was afraid to ask the next question. This was the part that felt that out of politeness I had to ask it, but if I was an honest person, would admit to being afraid of asking it.

“ Are you sure Sean ? “ Pause, long gulp, oh dear have I sowed the seed of doubt in his head type thoughts. 

Sean  “ Absolutely sure. Just go.”

As the travel date got nearer my fear became greater. I conducted a home visit at Sean’s. Not to assess suitability, oh no. This was an intelligence gathering operation of a covert nature. I needed to know how much his furniture, carpets, garden and ornaments were worth. How much my holiday plus damages would cost me. Sean thought I was briefing him about the hounds. Oh no, nothing as simple as that. 

Me “ Really nice carpet Sean I would love one of those, where did you get it?”

Sean “ I can’t remember it was ages ago.”

(Mental note. Cheap carpet…….check.)

Me “ So uh Sean, uh mate. Do all your internal doors close and stay closed, just wondering uh how much heat loss you suffer..?

Sean “ Yeah they all stay closed, the house is pretty good on heating actually.” 

Me “ That’s good mate”

(Mental note. B*****ds won’t be able to escape.)

Me “ Lovely garden Sean. So uh , got much in yet.”

Sean “ Yeah loads. I’ve got potatoes in all kinds of stuff. I really enjoy my garden”

(Mental note. Sean’s garden is f****d. )

Me “ So uh, go out much lately Sean”

Sean “ You know me, fairly hectic social life”

(Mental note. Sean’s house is f****d.) 

India Day got nearer. The pangs of guilt began to set in. I found myself not saying the words India or holiday in front of them. We referred to it as the ‘other work place.’ Sean was referred to as Special Uncle Sean and boy were they were going to have a good time !!

They knew. Oh yes they knew. I’ll swear Monty developed a limp. Lewis pretended he was agro phobic and refused to get in the car. Both decided that the official Basset wake up time was between 4am and 4.30am. Both decided that if you didn’t wake up too they would piss where they liked. They both decided that they only understood a little known Hebrew dialect from the 3 rd Century. Neither knew any form of the English language.

Commands were now a new form of sport.

Me “ Boys sit”

Hounds “ Wadda he say? Dunno lets piss in the kitchen”

Me “ Boys stay”

Hounds “ Lets run away and hide in that lady’s garden” 

Me “Boys NO.”

Hounds “ Great, lets eat this fox shit and roll in that fish carcase.”  

They both developed a new body odour, this despite my best efforts and extensive preening. They clearly had made a pact to smell like a mouldy kipper wrapped in a tramps undies. These two made corpses smell good.

I loaded the car. This included two Bassets. Two leopard  skin faux leather beds. Each the size of Bournemouth. Four dog bowls, thousands of kilos of food, leads, dog cleaning shampoo, ear wipes, eye wipes, poo bags, treats , chews ,blankets and pillows ( yes bloody pillows). We looked like we had just sailed in from Sangate.  

“Hello Mr Sean you very kind man.”

The hounds emerged from the car. Lewis mooched around the back and promptly dug up Sean’s potatoes. Monty (in a two pronged attack) went into the living room and helped himself onto Sean’s settee. Lewis had finished his starter. He moved onto a coconut. Sean did not have any coconuts in his garden. He no longer had any potatoes. Monty dropped a number two on the lawn. Not just any number two, oh no. He loosened one up to the texture and colour of a lentil broth. The only way that was going in a poo bag was through a straw. Sean went pale. I ran out and drove off. I switched my mobile off until the day before we returned.

The return

Sean is still our friend . He tells me that the garden will grow back. The door and various parts ’just need a lick of paint.’ The carpet is ’shampooable’ and the lino will polish. The car can be valeted and most of the mud will wash off. The neighbours will eventually talk to Sean again and the Postie may come back.  

Sean is considering our request for next years holiday !

(To Sean - thanks mate for enduring Houndsville ! To all who helped Sean our thanks and a special thanks to lunch time walkers. The Boyz miss yah Sean !) 

 

Love thy neighbour

Dad

I haven't had dogs for some time. I had forgotten the social side of dog walking. Its funny how you get to know people and their mutts whilst on the regular well trodden routes. You know the characters of the dogs and the owners and react accordingly.  

(I have changed the names of the dogs to protect their identities)

Titch

A small wire haired hound like creature crossed with a very large bag of nerves. He is scared of everything, in fact he is scared of being scared. I have never seen a dog shake so much. His owner is a man of about 35 who I think lives with his Mum.  He looks like an accountant and I think he shakes a lot. The dog is always immaculate. Lewis and Monty are besotted with him. The photograph (above) was taken after said hounds had undertaken a particulartly dirty mooch ( note ears). Titch and owner looked at me ( and hounds) like we were carriers of the Ebola Virus. Titch doesn't go for a walk, he goes for a shake.....

Biff

Biff is a Boxer. He is also completely mad. Not just in that "aahhh isn't he cute and funny" type way. I mean mad as in madder than a mad thing type way. He has the IQ of a lentil, a split one at that. He has never actually met Lewis and Monty because when he gets off the lead he runs. And runs. And runs. And runs and so on.My hounds look at him disappearing over the horizon with that "one day we will meet" type look in their eyes. Personally I doubt that. The owner has won three marathons and a road race. She hadn't actually entered, she was just looking for Biff....  

Blacky

Blacky is a Colly. He also is the meanest most bad tempered colly in the world. Blacky growls at his own reflection. He is a dog with issues, lots of them. He is very fair though. He hates all dogs equally. In fact he hates everything. He has the most severe anger management issues in the canine world. Monty and Lewis also love Blacky. Sadly their love is not reciprocated.....

Stranger in our midst

The list is by no means exhaustive and changes with regularity. I have to say that on the whole 99% of dog owners are really responsible. If their dog is bad tempered they keep it on a lead and or shorten it as you approach with your mutts. This usually gives you the 'heads up' as to whether;  a) your dogs are going to be attacked b) you are going to be attacked or c) It is shaky titch and owner who are scared of everything. There are of course exceptions to the rule, one of which I ( and subsequentely he) had the misfortune of meeting recently. Now I'm a patient fella. I like to think I'm easy going with a good sense of humour. I am also 6'5" and 17 stone. If I want to to be a little bit cross I can be.  

It was early morning out with 'the hounds' as usual. Now given that they are only 5 months old they get short walks (necssary for Bassets) and I keep them on the lead at the moment.  In the distance I saw a youth on a cycle. Picture this:-

 I would say he was 16/17 years, he was carrying a can of Stella ( whilst cycling) in right hand and fag in left. He had a Burberry Baseball cap and blue shell suit. It was about 9.18 AM.  Running alongside him without a lead, was a Staffy. Said Staffy had a leather belt and braces type collar studded with brass figures. As they got closer I heard said boy genius calling at Staffy. " Rambo (yes Rambo) f***K get away from me bike." I kid you not.

Being and intuative sort of chap I guessed that Rambo may not be a friendly sort of Muttly. Effectively cornered by the geography of the footpath, it was inevtiable our paths would cross. As they neared boy genius garbbed Rambo by his collar. Rambo now looked like he had been stuck in the arse with a "Rage Virus." This dog was spitting growling, snarling and pulling. He looked like someone had just nickedc his bone. Not any bone but the berst bone in the world. Boy Genius was now 6 feet from me. Before I could say anything Boy Genius managed to link a sort of sentence together:-

Boy Genius " Are they fucking dogs mate ?"

Me " I beg your pardon."

Boy Genius " Yours , are they dogs, if they are mine might go for them."

Me "Well put him on a lead then please"

Boy Genius " Ain't got one mate, ee don't need it." 

Me " Well he does now."

Boy Genius " You will have to go back"

Me " Well why should I turn around, you need to keep him under control"

Boy Genius " Well I'm f****ing tellin' yer mate, he'll do them."

Me ( now ruffled) " Can he swim?"

Boy Genius " Yeah"

Me " Can you?"

Boy Genius " Yeah."

Me (now very ruffled) " If you or that f****ing mutt comes within 6 inches of my dogs, which incidentally are five month old puppies I will throw it AND you into the lake. Whilst the dog is swimming to the bank I will repeatedly throw large bricks at you to prevent you from doing so. I am am an expert stone thrower. If you think I am joking walk past me."  

This had a strange effect. Rambo ears pricked up and he made a sort of whining sound. I think Rambo knew I was serious. Clearly in his short life NOBODY had ever spoken to Boy Genius like this. I could almost hear the two brain cells collide. His response kind of summed up the UK today:

Boy Genius " I'll get my Dad."

(Sigh)

Any how Boy Genius retreated and made good his escape. Monty & Lewis said something about "reeeespect Dad ........!" 

Basset Kitchen Nightmares

Dad

Note to myself ( and other potential owners). Bassets eat a lot. In fact Bassets eat a lot of anything and everything. I suppose it must be something to do with being 6 inches off the ground AND having a hooter that can smell a crisp packet that was recklessly discarded by it's owner in 1973. Lewis (shown left), is a master of the art. Knowing my disgust for his culinary habits he now collects various items and holds them without chewing. He waits for that opportunity when I am momentarily distracted, gets a good couple of munches in then BANG gone. His current favourite delicacies  include chewing gum, bottle tops, lolly sticks, crisp packets (circa 1973 - it was a good year) and any and all food wrappings. He has a particular penchant for fast food wrappings. His two most recent side courses include a dead dove and a rat (which I hasten to add he found next to a lake near where we live. ) The latter was disguised in true Lewis style. Mooching about in the long grass my suspicions were raised when I saw said rodent's tail hanging out of side of Lewis more than substantial gob:-

Me " Good grief Lewis what the hell have you got in your mouth?"

Lewis " Got gothing gin gy gouth, got gar goo galking about?"

Me " The bloody tail is hanging out"

Lewis "Got gail?"

Me " Drop it"

Lewis "Gop got"

Me " The bloody rat dopey"

Lewis"Got gat?"

Me" The one hanging out of your mouth drop it NOW"

Lewis " Gits a git gup"

Me "Its not a fit up you bloody mutt drop it NOW"

Lewis "Get ge ga gawyer"

Me" I'll give you bloody lawyer,drop it or NO DINNER." 

Two things dawn on me, a) why am I negotiating with a Basset ? b) Why am I having a conversation with one ?  Any how having shaken the rodent free from the hound's grip, he looks at me like I've just thrown one of Ramsay's creations in the bin, wanders off and eats a crisp packet.

Monty, conversely, has a much more creative diet. He treats pavement nibbles with total disdain. Oh no there not for him. Sadly the fat we leave out for the birds, bird seed, the pond plants and any objects connected to the garden are.  He has also totally demolished the "super de-luxe double mattress warmer than a warm thing fantastic must have one dog bed." The effect of this was two fold. I had the major hump ( it cost sixty quid) and also the fluffy lining has created the most bizarre turds ever deposited by a Basset. His poos look like they have been carefully knitted with little woolen jackets, kind or ready wrapped for the winter. What was left of the bed has now been carefully recycled. ( Actually I made that bit up just to be green and trendy, what I actually did was chuck it in the bin). The end result however is that they are both now sleeping on blankets in living room and no longer have the luxury of a bed. That said, they are currently waiting for delivery of a leopard skin ( yes leopard skin) and faux leather dog sofa (don't ask) which will be the new receptacle for their more than substantial arses  in the very near future ! Watch this space............................

Christmas Hounds

Me and me bruv have 'ad Christmas. We will write soon..........

People in Glasshouses

Monty

We had a rather intersting day yesterday. Lewis and I were placed in the camp yard for 'eeblueshuns' as father calls it. We were rather impressed with the perimter fence until we discovered that by placing Lewis's more than substantial a**e against it, the whole thing flops and bends like limp cardboard. ( Talk about Jerry built). Sadly Lewis has the IQ of a damp Boneo biscuit so it takes some time to realise what is actually required. Anyhow we were allowed out for prisoner association and we promptly flopped over fence and made good our escape. Lewis looked a little stunned and decided to lie in the grass,fart and lick his bum. I managed to convince him the severity of the situation as the main guard was heading toward us. Undeterred we made good our escape toward the greenhouse. As we neared this building on the oustkirts of the camp I noticed there was a terrible comotion inside. Tools were being sent flying plants were shaking and windows were being banged. The gaurd (father) shouted "BURGLARS." He ran back to the main camp looking rather exciteable. Now given his association with law enforcement I imagined he would emerge with a variety of weapons from expandable batons, to CS gas to handcuffs. No................. he emerged holding a rolling pin.     

He overtook us heading straight for the 'burglars' in  the greenhouse. As he reached the door he raised his baton (rolling pin) in the approved manner and shouted "Police." Sadly the two grey squirrels fightying inside the greehouse did not understand this. One lept at him whilst the other continued trashing the greenhouse. He screamed like a small child, dropped the rolling pin on his toe ( left exposed by the flip flop hanging on the cardboard fence). His attention then turned to Lewis & I.

He muttered something about " Oh the dogs, squirrels, rabies, mad cow disease, bird flu etc " and promptly picked up us both and dunped us in the compound. He collected his flip flop and returned to the greenhouse. So did Lewis and I ( fence REALLY is hopeless). Second squirel now mounts roof of greenhouse blows a raspeberry at Father and makes good his escape.   

Lewis

Had brill day. Me and Monty escaped and dad chased some rabbits with big tails. Dad said we might get 'babies' from them and was very cross. Found some of their poo, it tastes like hazelnuts. Cool. Monty makes me sleep on the fence and it falls over. He Heh ! Dad chased the rabbits with  stick thing and thought they were burgers or somat. See yah soon , gotta go and see a German fella who puts needles in me bum. 

His Masters Voice

Dad

The Boys have allowed me a slot in their Blog.Ithink its' important, especially if you are about to obtain a Basset, or Bassay as the hounds prefer me to call them. The Boys are not my first Bassays but it is some time since I have had an ASBO s, sorry pup. ( For any international readers an ASBO means Anti Social Behaviour Order - they are imposed by the Courts to restrict the lives on others who create havoc in one form or another). Says it all really.

Being a glutten for punishment I have two Bassay Asbo's ( sorry Boys). My day goes something like this:

Evening

Boys go to bed, faces of angels, much cooing and 'aaaahhing.'

Boys cuddle up and nuzzle each other.

Boys snore and generally smooch each other. Again aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh, bless.

Boys stir

Boys get up ( start recording programme I am watching knowing I will miss it otherwise )

Have the Rolls Royce of puppy pee pads on floor.

Lewis gets up wanders to front door pees on rug - 12 feet from pad.

Me " Oh bugger"

Lewis " Heh heh"

Monty gets up.

I get mop.

Monty eats mop.

Lewis laughs so much pees again.

Mop floor with Monty attached to mop.

Monty laughs.

Monty pees on floor.

Both boys now attached to mop.

Return mop to bucket (back turned).

Monty poos in kitchen.

Lewis poos in my slipper.

Monty laughs.

Lewis laughs and stands in poo in my slipper, runs off.

Monty chases and slips in poo stepped in by Lewis and spread to floor

I have a drink.

Place Bassays in garden.

Clean up poo, can't wear my slippers ( cos of poo) slip in poo in bare feet.

Bassys back (now muddy) laugh at poo in bewteen my toes.

Bassays step in water bowl, mud now liquidised. 

Boys go back to bed, I scrape poo out of slipper, change water in mop bucket, clean floor, change boys water wipe their paws. Boys asleep.

I make cofffee sit down boys get up, boys pee etc etc !

I am however trying my best to instill some discipline and training in the household. Today the Kray twins learnt that they can completely ignore me.

Me " Okay you are really good boys, SIT."

Lewis " Is he talking to us?"

Monty" Bloody hope not"

Lewis " Shall we mooch into bathroom and empty the bin?"

Monty " Jolly good idea, you get used loo roll, I'll get the old Bic razor that'll REALLY scare him"

Me " Boys do you want a treat?"

Lewis " Do you reckon its on of them dry old things?"

Monty " Yeah, lets go and lick the shower cubicle instead"

Lewis "Can I do the toliet bowl?"

Monty "My pleasure."

Phone goes.

Me " Hello"

Caller "How are the dogs."

Me "They are fantastic, SUCH good boys!"

BUT.... and its a very BIG but. They are fantastic, funnier than a funny thing and as my mate Pete calls them, they are "COMEDY DOGS!"

The Cooler Kings

Lewis

Well construction is complete. Father has installed a perimeter fence that has completely foiled any attempt at escape. It is absolutely huge, I would say at least 8 inches high. I peer through at once was. The plants, the trees and the leaves. I am hoping that I may get a work detail to collect wood from 'the outside.' Failing that I have started 'Tom, Dick and Harry.' I 'm having some problems with the soil but I find that shuffling it to one side with my ears is starting to pay dividends. Food remains much the same and any attempt at bribing the guards has so far proved fruitless. I received one parcel into the hut but was disappointed to find that it was in fact "A bloody Bill."  Or that was what father called  it. I thought it was very helpful of Monty and I to open it but apparentely he thought otherwise. Monty and I desperately need wood for 'shoring up.' We have decided to utilise a wooden chair in the main hut. Sadly it is taking some time to take apart and is made more difficult by the guards constantly re-positioning us and shouting "leave it." We are collecting anything we can to aid our escape. We will obviously need disguises. I intend to dress as german Sheperd to confuse the guards. So far we have two odd socks, a blanket, an old slipper and a tea towel.  Monty is working on the dye, but the only colours he can muster at present are yellow and brown. Must go guards coming.................... .

Monty

Day 1 - Camp Hound.

Cave has finished open prison. Pushed my hooter at various points but it just won't give. Tried to get matey with guards but they 're havin' none of it. Godber (Lewis) is still sharing a Peter with me. Managed to hide a tin of pineapple chunks and a tin of shoe polish but thats it at the mo.' Got hauled in front of the Guvnor yesterday for what he called an "in see dent." Apparently SUM ONE has removed a UB40 album from the prison library and returned it damaged. I reckon i've bin grassed and told Guv so. He was 'avin none of it and naffing confined me to me bed. So far i've 'ad me bleedin priv liches removed and reduced to 3 good boy snacks a day.

Two weeks and a jab to parole !!!.......................................................

Young Lewis

Me (Lewis) when I was a pup.

Garden

Garden.

 

Lewis

 

Father has decided that a small fence and light shingle area would be appropriate. Yesterday we remained in the garden for some considerable period of time, whilst he made several journeys to the car. He collected a variety of products that I suspect may be involved in the construction of some sort of hound camp. I decided that it would be very helpful to show my approval by urinating on any and all items placed on the ground. Father seemed a little perturbed by this and said something about us being “little bar stands.”

Both parents introduced a rather simple game during the day. Mother has collected a tub of rather dry ‘treats.’ I use the term loosely as they taste somewhat akin to a toe nail left out in the sun. When she feels the need to call or otherwise attract our attention she rattles the toe nails and calls in a rather alarmingly high pitched voice. I am given to understand that I should then waddle in her general direction like some grounded racing pigeon and accept said ‘reward’ (toe nail). I allowed her one or two of these ‘come to mummy’ then I frankly got bored. I found a rather attractive clump of bamboo and decided to catch forty winks.

 

Monty

Cave put us in the garden yesterday. He also brought loads of bags of little stones. I think he is building an open hound prison. He got fence things, wood and everything. Lewis said we had a relative die in a similar camp. Apparently he fell out of the watch tower. Cave put stones down for ages. I had a proper mooch. Managed to find a peg, loads of leaves, a piece of carrier bag, twigs, a tent peg ,pair of the old man’s y-fronts that had come off the line, a flip flop, old firework and a  bamboo cane.  They all tasted minging. Funny though, he wouldn’t let me eat any of ‘em. I did manage to stand in one of me bruv’s poos and wipe it off on dad’s trousers. Mum said he wasn’t allowed in the house.

I  also now have a brilliant new game. Its’ called “find a plant that mum really likes and lie down it till it goes all weak and wobbly and probably won’t eva grow again game.” So far I’ve done it to a Bampoo plant an Arthur choke plant and one Mum called “get off little s**t plant.” The best bit is when we get picked up and re-located. This is really clever  ‘cos it actually saves me walking to the next one.

Mum has started rattlin’ a little pot when we are in the garden. I dunno wot its’ all about but when I go and have a look I get a little eaty thing.  I am training Mum really well.

I am hoping that I will have trained them both soon cos neither are pooin’ in the garden yet!

Life begins at naughty

Diary of Bassets Lewis & Monty

Journey

Monty

Well we arrived safely after a bit of a journey from Mum’s. New parents car was the first thing that struck me. Bit small, only a two seater. Sat on Mum's lap all the way to Barking. No sorry Lancing. She had a very fluffy blue blanket that smelt vey new. Felt a bit girly so I peed in it. ‘Course my puffy bruv thought it was great and wasn’t very happy with me peeing on it. Said somefing ‘bout street cred’ and girls. He is such a drama queen. Tried to shove him onto car floor but old lardy arse wouldn’t budge. Managed to bite his left ear but Amy separated us. She is clearly gonna be trouble. The old fella didn’t say much but I suppose he was driving. Seems alright. Looks like a big version of Will and smells a bit, but we ll see how he goes. Lewis thinks he might have seen him with Status Quo but I thought he looked too young. Think his name is Cave or something.

Lewis

New folks arrived in early model Honda CRX. Sadly it was only the 1600 model but still has a removable roof. Fantastic, can’t wait to feel the wind in my ears. Amy brought a simply delightful blue blanket which smelt terribly new. New father dressed rather casually I thought and looked a bit wild. I am confident I can tame him ( I am sure I saw him in Status Quo).

Uneventful journey other than Monty Python misbehaving. He tried the old nudge him on the car floor trick. I managed to avoid this, he did however manage a half volley ear nip. Didn’t hurt and told him so.

Home

Monty

Arrived at new gaff. One of them bingalows. Tried to escape and have a mooch but Mum too good for me. Good prospects out front for going to ground and or plant chewing. Clocked neighbours both sides, both old biddies, gotta be good poo value. Both looked tidy. When I get day release looking forward to leaving couple of ‘Basset parcels’ heh he. One came out to say hello so I gave my best ‘oooh I’m so sad and scared look.’ She completely bought it – I am SO good. Should have an Ekwitty Card but can’t spell it yet.

Got in. Nice round WHITE rug in hall. Can you believe it WHITE ?! Lewis ran straight in so I gave the rug the good news with a Basset Poo island. Two Basset (sorry bedrooms) and massive garden at back. Seriously chuffed.

Got a wicked bed – only downside ‘course is that I gotta share it with his Lordship Lord Lewis of Poodown or whatever he calls himself.

Food same as home really but water tastes a bit funny. Lewis said sumffin bout it bein’ hard water. He is SO stupid how can water be hard? Duh.

Got bit humpy with food bowls. Mum and Cave have given him the green one. I get a red one. I want the green one, he wants the green one and won’t swap. I try and take green one Cave says no. Oooooh Cave you are so tuff. Peed on kitchen floor. Given up on the bowl swapping.

Garden great. I have tried most of the foalee arge but hairy boy keeps plonking me in different bits of the garden. Found a WICKED pile of leaves, taste lousy but make brilliant noise. Even Lewis likes them.

Got a special trick at nite. Gives old Cave man the frighteners. Goes like this. Go out “ ooh I m SO ready for poo.” Head for bush and stand really really still. Hairy boy thinks I’ve escaped calls Police helicopter and runs about shouting in very odd high pitched voice. He is gonna be such good value. Wimp.

Found a Boney M album. Chewed it, hairy boy didn’t seem too bothered. Had a butchers at collection. Found one called UB40 or summat. Had a little taster. That hit the mark. Hairy boy had to put them up higher. Couple more tripe specials and I’ll still get em.

Neighbour is a Collie called Charlie. Seen him thru fence. He has the most wickedest collar. He has invited me over for a BBQ leftover do in the Summer.

Laters, gotta go and annoy Lewis.

Lewis

Arrived finally. Home is a delighful 1930’s cottage style bungalow. Small garden at the front but I am told by father that the beach is rather close. Met a neighbour she seemed rather nice “Glo.” Sounds like a cleaning product doesn’t it? I did not say this of course, one most keep up first impressions. Rather simple decor enhanced by kwirky lighting in most rooms. Father did mutter something about ‘bloody lights.’ But he was trying not to be heard by Mum.

Boudoir is a very large fleecy lined affair, I would say circa 2006 late stock. Probably got it cheap but remarkably warm and comfortable. Bedtimes slightly marred by Monty farting in my ear constantly.

Expansive garden at rear predominantly grass with a small vegetable patch and greenhouse at the bottom. Delightful spray of herbs at rear door and a small pond (plastic pot with water in it). Little disappointed as rather muddy underfoot but I’ll manage.

Neighbour appears to be a Collie. Plump individual with a Burberry collar, barked with a cockney accent. I think he may be one of those Lavs or is it Chavs. I am told he has an ASBO which prevents him entering any licensed premises. Anyhow exchanged pleasantries and discussed a possible evening affair.

I simply must close, apparently I need to be photographed with Monty.

The Vet

Monty

Me and bruv rocked up with Amy and Cave. Boy did I lay it on thick. “ Oooh I’m so scared etc etc etc.” Vet came out.

He speaks well funny “ Vot iz your name.” I said “Don’t tell him Pike” Nobody got it. Vet “ So mine little friend let me check you and put you on ze scales” I told lardy arse Lewis they’d need a bigger set for him. Cave and Mum looked like kids late with their homework. Vet “ So you must have zee special ear liquid mit zee load of cobblers in it. Nothing esle vill do.”

Cave & Mum “ YES WE MUST HAVE ZEE LIQUID MIT ZEE ............” I think Herr Flick hypnotised them.

Vet “ £97.50 pleaze. Cave & Amy “ Can we have anything else pleaze at ridiculous prices?”

If Herr Flick had said “ Yes you must have zees special leather basset booties imported from zee Fatherland.” I would have been the first Basset in Sussex to wearing brogues.

Got worm stuff that Cave gave me. Tasted like the inside of Lewis’s ear. Minging. Why would zee vet give us somfing with worms in it? Humans are funny people.

Anyhooooo will write soon UB40 are on. Heh heh.

Lewis

We had medical check up Monday. Delightful chap, may have been Swiss. He had a charming manner about him but was a little disappointed that he had not warmed his hands before counting a rather intimate part of me and announcing proudly; “ Is Gut, mein friend has two.” I shall spare ladies the details.

Father & Mother purchased some rather appropriate Basset perfumery and cleansing toiletries. I can hardly wait I am beginning to smell like Monty.

I look forward to staying in touch. Must rush dinner is being served in the galley. I am given to understand that Wagu beef and tripe are on tonight.

Lots of love

L & M xx

xxx