Unusual

Gilbert and Roxy are quiet dogs, not often barking at anything. Of the two, Roxy is more inclined to bark. Unkind people suggest that’s because she’s a bitch and we all know how females like to talk!

When they do bark it sounds quite fearsome – deep, big dog voices warning all and sundry to steer clear. In fact, one delivery company (we have many deliveries) warned their employees that there were dogs at our house. I could hardly explain for laughing that our Labradors love people and would be more likely to smother them in slobbery kisses than attack.

Our first Labrador, decades ago, a rescue dog, once ‘attacked’ my husband. He had arrived home late at night from the streets of Belfast and Whisky was protecting me and our children. She didn’t recognise him and barged him over, thinking him an intruder. When she realised, she was mortified. The only things she ever barked at were ladders and double decker buses.

Anyway, early this morning, while we were still in bed, Gilbert was barking energetically at the patio door. We hadn’t realised he had gone downstairs. I decided later to check the garden camera to try and discover what had set the boy off. 

The playback function has proved useful in the past, but on this occasion, nothing could be seen. Gilbert’s barking, the cries of several birds, and the trees and shrubs swaying in the breeze were all captured on film, but the cause of Gilbert’s alarm remains a mystery. 

Heron, rat, fox, squirrel? Who knows?

  

Gilbert the Good – my weekend

 

Gilbert the Good – my weekend

                        We had a busy day on Saturday and it was fun.

We went out early as usual as it was going to be hot later on and it’s not good for us dogs to be out in the heat, even in the woods.

 We couldn't go in the ponds, though, as there are signs up warning of DANGER from blue-green algae. The humans found out more from AI:

Blue-green algae (cyanobacteria) is extremely toxic to dogs. It grows in stagnant lakes, ponds, and slow-moving rivers during warm weather. Ingesting or swimming in contaminated water can cause rapid liver failure, neurological damage, and death within minutes to hours. There is no antidote.

My humans have spoken to some people whose dogs died because of this, and they were very sad.

When we’d been home for a couple of hours, we had visitors! Bethan came to see us with Charlie and Jack. Robert stayed at home because he had banged his head and felt a bit dizzy. Anyway, he was company for Lolly.

It was Charlie’s birthday earlier in the week - he was eleven years old. That’s the same age as Roxy. He had a birthday party before the end of the school summer term. He’s a keen cricketer so the venue for his party, Lord’s Cricket Ground, was perfect. I don’t understand cricket, but I’m just a dog, so that’s understandable. I like ball games, though.  Roxy and I have a ball each and we chase them for a little at the beginning of our walk and then carry them the rest of the time. 

Jack made lots of fuss of Roxy and me, while Charlie played with Herschel and Jellicoe. Everyone in our house was tired the next day, and we didn’t go out. Bethan and Charlie went to Lord’s again for the finals of ‘the Hundred.’ That was cricket, too, and my humans sat and watched it on the television. They wanted to see if they could see Bethan and Charlie in the crowd. They didn’t!

The women’s match wasn’t very exciting, but the men’s final was gripping – well, that’s what the humans said, anyway.

 We didn’t go out as early on Monday, but we still weren’t allowed anywhere near the ponds.

In the afternoon, Roxy managed to find her way past the fence into the garden pond. There’s no blue-green algae in there, just lots and lots of duck weed. The humans were thinking of removing the fence, but they're thinking again now . . .

She only paddled, but her fur soaked up a lot of water which then dribbled all over the house.

On Friday, Susannah and Frankie and Arthur are coming back from their holiday in Devon. They’re going to stay on Friday night and go back to London on Saturday. It will be nice to see them again. I like playing with Arthur – he’s fun.

TTFN

Gilbert

Relaxation!

 

Relaxation!

Gilbert knows how to take his ease.

Just look at the suppleness of his spine.

He can relax flamboyantly on a bed . . . (with Herschel nearby, top right).

Daydreaming

Dreaming

Sunday morning walk

 

Sunday morning walk

Out by 6:00 a.m. and back home before the heat started to rise.

Tomorrow will need an earlier start, and Tuesday and Wednesday earlier still.

A perfect gentleman

 

A perfect gentleman

Gilbert, wet from a swim, modelling his tracker. He and Roxy wear trackers every time they go for a walk.

In our house there is a lobby between the sitting room and the kitchen. It has four doorways, but only three doors. One door leads from the sitting room. One doorway leads into the kitchen. One door leads to the integral garage, which houses everything but a car, and where things disappear never to be seen again. One door conceals the downstairs loo.

It is a reasonably-sized area, and houses one of the cat litter trays, and a gallon bucket of water. All the animals, including visitors, avail themselves of it, and small children are discouraged from plunging their hands and heads into it.

One wise dog, long gone, our gentle Dalmatian, Dominie, always used to have a good drink before she went out for a walk. None of the others has ever done that, but they go immediately to drink on returning home.

Gilbert is very sensitive, ever willing to please, and mortified if he thinks he has done something inappropriate. He also keeps an eye on Roxy when they are out, and if she hangs back, or remains too long in one spot, he draws attention to the fact.

At home, he frequently curls up by my feet, as he did when he was a puppy, while Roxy spreads herself out in everyone’s way. That way she cannot be ignored.

Today, after their walk, Gilbert was having a long drink. I was in the kitchen, needing to go past him into the sitting room. Without a word or gesture from me, he shifted his body so that I had room to pass.

He is a perfect gentleman.

 

Harry Flakers

 

Harry Flakers

Roxy likes sunbathing!

Last night, as Roxy lay sleeping (sounds like the beginning of a poem!) Barry commented that she was Harry Flakers. She and Gilbert had had a wonderful walk, dashing in and out of ponds and undergrowth, sniffing here, snuffling there, thoroughly enjoying themselves. Playing in water always seems to be more tiring than simply running. Anyway, there she lay. Gilbert was also asleep, accompanied by Jellicoe and Herschel, one either side.

When I was at school, I had to take two buses to travel there. I always met a friend at the second stop, and one day she told me her sister was ‘Harry Preggers.’ I didn’t query what she meant, just noted that she was about to become an aunt. Years later, I wondered why putting ‘Harry’ at the beginning of a phrase was thought necessary.  What did it add? Did it mean ‘very?’

I’ve just looked it up. It was ‘upper class’ British slang, originating in the 1930s and 40s from the upper ranks of the Royal Navy, and Oxford University undergraduates, and not much in use currently. During the Second World War it became part of ‘jackspeak,’ about which I have written before. I have also learnt that ‘Harry’ is a ‘meaningless intensifier.’

So, ‘Harry Flakers’ means extremely tired, or ‘flaked out.’ ‘Harry Starkers’ means stark naked, stark meaning ‘completely.’ ‘Harry Flatters’ can mean a flat, calm sea, or driving at maximum speed, or lying down and resting. ‘Harry Hotters’ would be used in a ship’s engine room.

There are other ‘Harry’ expressions, but ‘Harry Flakers’ is the only one we use occasionally, perhaps because we both, separately, grew up in the Medway Towns, (now known as Medway) and were unconsciously influenced by Naval and Military tradition. I don’t recall my parents or my mother-in-law ever using such an expression. (I just asked Barry, and he thinks he picked it up at Sandhurst. Many of his instructors were Second World War veterans.)

It does, however, perfectly describe the total relaxation of a well-exercised dog, or lively toddler.

An extra pair of hands

 

An extra pair of hands

Susannah is staying with us for a few days, and insisting on helping. We took her at her word. Barry hacked, I pruned, and Susannah cleared and graunched and mulched. The brown gardening waste bin is filling satisfactorily, and the trees will appreciate the mulch.

We got so much more done with that very useful extra pair of hands, and the strength and energy they’re attached to.  She commented that it’s not a low-maintenance garden. It’s better than it was. When I remarked that we’d removed on arch, she said, ‘I knew there was something different, but I couldn’t think what it was.’

Well, we haven’t seen her since Christmas!

Gilbert went upstairs to our bed – he didn’t like the noise of the grauncher. Roxy relaxed, happy to be left to her own devices and not be asked to play by Susannah’s dog, Arthur. He wanted to come outside with us, and helped in the only way he could think of, by bringing some toys out and eviscerating them.

 

Collective

Rather than reply individually to your very kind comments, for which I thank you all very much, I thought I’d give you a generalised update on Jellicoe’s Jolly Japes.

Last Thursday, he had an operation to remove a tumour above his left eye. At the same time, an associated lymph node was removed. Tissue was taken from his mouth to reconstruct his eyelid. (In humans, a graft would be taken from any suitable part of the body since we’re not generally covered in fur/hair.)

After four nights away, he came home on Monday. He was very pleased to be back in his old stamping ground and was enthusiastically sniffed by his house mates (not the human ones!) Gilbert is rather worried by the blue cone that moves about the house but is coming to terms with it being a temporary addition to his friend, Jellicoe.

As he could not eat normally, an oesophageal tube was placed in his neck, and it is through this that all food and medication is delivered via syringe.

Not being experts, we worry at every little twitch or hiccough, but he seems to be surviving, despite our attentions. We are less ham-fisted as time and feedings pass, and should be proficient by the end of the week, when, hopefully, the feeding tube will be removed, and our new expertise will no longer be required. He’s sleeping a lot, which is to be expected, since he’s been coshed with drugs, but is interested in food, though he’s not allowed to attempt to eat at the moment. He is more alert, when not asleep (!) and every small improvement is welcomed.

At present, he looks as though he’s been involved in a bar brawl and has definitely come off worst. To be honest, he looks a mess, but will improve as the swellings reduce. We still keep telling him he’s a beautiful boy, but he really isn’t, apart from temperamentally.

To think that some humans put themselves through surgery to improve what Nature bestowed on them! It’s just not worth it. 

A visit to the hospital

 

A visit to the hospital

Jellicoe and Herschel

When Jellicoe visited the vet recently for a regular check-up, it transpired that he, too, has a heart murmur, like his brother. Additionally, a biopsy of the cyst that had reappeared on his head indicated that it was malignant and he would have to go to an animal hospital for treatment.

This morning Barry took him to Aura, the animal hospital in Guildford. As we were not sure whether the consultation would lead to an immediate surgical procedure, Jellicoe was only allowed a token breakfast, a quarter of his usual ration, because, as a diabetic cat, he must have insulin injections regularly. He was not happy and kept miaouing and following me for more food.

The outcome was that he has to return tomorrow for an echocardiogram before an operation next week. This is to ensure that he is fit enough for surgery, just as happens with human surgical procedures.

Many pet insurers have raised their cover to £25,000, but ours tops out at £12,000. Veterinary medicine is now so sophisticated that £12,000 is soon swallowed up in tests.

We are looking at alternative providers. Roxy and the cats are probably too old to transfer, although Jellicoe is the only one with pre-conditions, but Gilbert is still a young lad.

The ‘phone rang . . .

 

The ‘phone rang . . .

. . . but Barry couldn’t find it, He could have answered it on his watch, but that’s not very satisfactory. He found his ‘phone in the shower room. He’d taken it in there to clean his teeth, or, I should say, while he cleaned his teeth. He uses it to time the tooth-cleaning ritual. Technophile? Never!

Anyway, it was our grandson calling to say he’d just dropped his wife off at the railway station and was travelling on to see us. He would be with us shortly. We just had time to tidy the major muddles and put clean covers on the chairs before he arrived, one little girl in his arms and her older sister following.

The first thing Melia did was to remove her shoes. She’s such a competent little girl. Little children’s shoes just melt my heart.

Hailey sat on my lap and gazed at me, as if trying to memorise my face. It’s a toss-up with babies if they’re going to cry or smile. She smiled and then she giggled. Well, I’m enough to make a cat laugh!

Melia is an observant and helpful big sister, giving Hailey a toy to play with if she seemed to need something.

Roxy was delighted to see Callum. He’s her favourite person in the entire world and she stayed very close to him all the time he was with us.

Gilbert had seen the little girls before, but he was so careful, particularly with the baby, sniffing her cautiously, so worried about doing the wrong thing.

 Arthur had not experienced small humans until today, and he was excited to discover how tasty they smelt. Hailey enjoyed having her toes and fingers gently licked.

Herschel and Jellicoe were indifferent, as is their wont.

Young children are so photogenic. They know when they are being filmed or photographed but are unselfconscious, natural subjects.

All too soon, it was time for them to go home. Hailey fell asleep as soon as she settled in her car seat. She had missed her afternoon nap, but wasn’t grizzly, as some often are when tired. Callum had the unenviable task of preventing Melia falling asleep on the journey home. I hope he managed it!

It was an unexpected visit and so lovely to see them.

 The bonus was that they were able to take their Christmas presents home with them, plus a couple of other things. It wasn’t quite a garage clear-out, but a few things have gone to new homes. The most important was a small upstairs dog crate for the puppy they’re collecting on Friday. Their young dog died unexpectedly three months ago, and their older dog has been missing her. There will be much excitement!

A visitor

 

A visitor

Arthur is visiting us for a few days while his mistress is otherwise occupied. She cannot leave him alone overnight. Roxy and Gilbert were delighted to see their little friend again. Herschel and Jellicoe attained the heights and looked down until they remembered that Arthur is no threat to them whatsoever, and anyway, they’re cats, and lords of the manor.

On going into the bathroom, Susannah was startled to find syringes laid out neatly on the counter top. This was not a sight with which she was familiar in her family home.

However, she quickly realised that they are ink jet syringes, used for refilling printer cartridges. What a relief!

Unexciting

 

Unexciting

Nothing of note to tell you, so I thought I’d share a recent photograph. Gilbert and Herschel often go to bed before the rest of us. They’re effective bed warmers.

It’s rained quite a lot today, which is good. It’s colder, which is not so good, but a bright fire is dispelling the gloom. We’ve drawn the curtains, too, so it feels quite cosy. 

I spent Monday afternoon at the dentist. It wasn’t the whole afternoon, of course, it just felt like it. A thirty-minute appointment stretched to ninety. C’est la vie!

Woodland Walk

 

Woodland Walk October 2025

Cool, cloudy mornings, neither cold nor warm.

        

Still air and bird song. Quiet paths lead the walker onwards to discover what lies beyond the bend in the path.

        Gilbert drops the ball and waits for it to be thrown again  . . . and again . . . and again.

                                Roxy contemplates the path ahead.

Fungi everywhere

The beginnings of a corduroy road? Or the end? Or just random logs?

 

Another fungus

Trees have to fight for space and light in some places, so grow slim and straight, almost like railings.

A walk is enlivened by the company of a dog or two.

                                     More of 'railings.'

 

                                            Fungus and friends

Retrieving the ball.

 

                                                     Magical.

  

            Roxy retrieves her ball. She and Gilbert each carry their own.

Dogs and puppies

 

Dogs and puppies

Roxy with her ball, Gilbert waiting.

Roxy and Gilbert met a puppy the other day, a yellow Labrador called Max, thirteen weeks old, and very new to the experience of walking in the Great Outdoors. Well brought-up puppies know that they should be submissive to their elders and so they roll onto their backs, exposing the most vulnerable part of their anatomies to the seniors. Frequently, an inadvertent release of a small amount of puppy pee will occur, to further placate the adults.

When the older dogs sniff the puppy, it will squirm with delight, sometimes squeaking. Some dogs remain submissive all their lives. Our senior Jack Russell, Biddy, had an endearing habit of submitting to people in her ‘pack’ all her life.

Roxy is never happier than when she is carrying a ball, and if she can manage to fit two in her mouth, she is even more delighted. She will not relinquish her prize to another dog, only to a human. While Gilbert may sometimes be distracted from the task of retrieval, Roxy is fully engaged and always knows where a flung ball has landed, often pointing it out to Gilbert.

However, when she met Max, she dropped her ball and allowed him to play with it. Well-bred, properly-socialised adult dogs recognise and understand the needs of puppies. We have been fortunate to have had a number of puppies, and it is heart-warming to see an adult dog gently playing with a young puppy.

Gus playing with puppy Bertie.

To the inexperienced it may look and sound dangerous. There is a lot of play growling and mouthing, huge adult jaws enveloping tiny snouts, the puppy being allowed liberties no adult dog could enjoy.

Frodo playing with puppy Jenna.

Should the puppy become too boisterous, the adult will discipline it, firmly and so quickly that a human may miss the reprimand. Nonetheless, just as humans need a break and a rest from the insistent demands of toddlers, so should dogs be respected and the puppy removed to a safe place for a nap after a period of play.

Bertie sleeping with his big friend, Gus.

Young puppies miss the warmth and security of their litter-mates. Adult dogs don’t often sleep together, but will tolerate a puppy snuggling up to them.

Puppy Gilbert with Roxy and Herschel on his first night in his new home.

 Me and my shadow