Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Day 497 in Exile






The shrew attempted to poison me this morning with a putrid offering of lambs kidneys for breakfast, I spat them out all over the kitchen floor to let her know that I was not amused at her disgusting offering.  I have no doubt that her corpulent toady scoffed them as soon as my back was turned!  I was reduced to eating a bowl of wicker balls that were on the coffee table.  They didn't do a lot for me either, they tasted perfumey!  I had no choice but to spit the pieces out all over the living room carpet, which appeared to irk the shrew somewhat and brought on another of her skull numbing lectures about what a "horrid little dog I am".  I was given two measley sausages to tide me over to the next meal and that was only because the kelb had to have his "old fart" medication and is far too dim witted to work out that the shrew conceals them in sausages.

The shrew has been a real drag of late, she appears to be studying for something and is constantly found with her nose in a book or gnashing over her laptop with a furrowed brow.  I sincerely hope that she isn't attempting to train me again, that really didn't work out so well for her last time...

Anyway, I have been doing some reading of my own, although I am pretty sure I could teach the dogs in this book a thing or two about being really dastardly!




Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Day 420 in Exile

Another walk down to the beach this morning.  There was a dead seal washed ashore and the seagulls were all feasting on it, until the kelb arrived!  He spent most of the morning chasing seagulls into the sea and then being chased away from the carcass of the seal by the shrew.  It was hilarious to see her waving her arms and shrieking at him, I am sure he was toying with her today.  Maybe my evil is rubbing off on him at last.

We went up into the dunes, my favourite part.  I was running about attempting to excavate the rabbits from their warrens with little luck.  I went off up onto a high bit of the dune on my long line and the shrew walked along at the bottom.  She called me to hurry up at one point and when she got no response she gave the line a gentle tug, which was enough to catch me off balance.  To my horror I did a roly poly down the sand dune and landed in a heap at the bottom on my back, all four of my little stick legs were stuck up in the air flailing to get right again.  The shrew turned to see this spectacle and burst out laughing as I writhed around on the floor trying to get up.  It took the old bat a while to compose herself and finally come to my aid, by which time I had managed to right myself.  I stuck my nose up in the air and pushed past the giggling shrew.  She spent the rest of the walk insisting on telling me just how hilarious she thought my predicament was and chuckled to herself all the way back to the house!  How VERY dare she!

Friday, 23 November 2012

Day 410 in Exile

On the home stretch this morning the kelb was spending rather a long time sniffing about in the bushes, the shrew was growing impatient with him.  He continued to faff about in the scrub sniffing every blade of grass and withered thistle in his wake, the grumpy shrew trudged along beside him.  Suddenly we were all startled, the kelb appeared ot have accidently flushed a pheasant from the scrub ( I am sure it had absolutely NOTHING to do with his hunting "skills").  Once the kelb and I regained composure we wanted to go after it, there was a scuffle and some comotion followed by a thud and we were pulled towards the scrub only to come face to face with a vision of horror. 

The shrew had lost her footing in all the comotion and fallen into the scrub behind which was a rather large ditch.  The kelb and I peered over the ditch at the shrew who was on her back and seemed to have turned into Mrs De Niro.  Death threats were issued, she was all red faced and teeth as she scrabbled out of the ditch, she was covered in foul smelling bog water and her hair and clothes were festooned with dried dead thistles and grass. 

She made it back onto the bank of the ditch just in time for two surfers to come plodding through the field.  The kelb and I were forced to do the walk of shame past the surfers with the bog monster in tow.   I made eye contact to indicate that the stink was emenating from the shrew and once again the shrew found herself in the field with a pair of surfers scrabbling to get away from her.  We picked up the pace homeward as she snarled and gnashed her way along the path.  I suspect that walks may be off the agenda this weekend!


Thursday, 22 November 2012

Day 409 in Exile

The shrew took us up into the sand dunes again this morning.  As soon as we got up there the kelb started showing off because he was off lead, he was leaping and skipping up and down the dunes.  He leapt onto one hill and fell off!  He has all the grace of a wounded rhino, he went from skipping gayly through the hills to tumbling down it in a grunting wheezing heap in about 2 seconds.  He attempted a gymnastic landing, but his front legs gave out as he landed and he crumpled onto his chin.  He then of course had to go through the drama of hopping about for a time to make the shrew worry over him, of course the gormless git was inconsisitent about which leg he hopped with!

We carried on trundling through the dunes, I was snorting about in the long grass looking for any bunnies that might be out.  The shrew is so kind she allows me to be on a long line so I can go off and have a good snort, I went through a tunnel of grass but because the shrew was 5 metres away I went through and the line went over.  The old bat tried to coax me back through the tunnel of grass, but being slight I wasn't heavy enough to push the grass aside.  She ended up having to come in and get me.  After a lot of panting and wheezing she finally managed to get me free, I jumped over her and continued snuffling about, she looked rather put out by this as she fell backwards in a heap and had to hang onto the line and right herself.

We made our way back down towards the beach again, the shrew shouted the kelb to wait for us.  As he stood waiting at the top of the descent back down to the sand an insane rabbit ran right under his nose, the kelb almost took a heart attack and leapt six feet into the air and took off in the opposite direction.  He then, clearly trying to regain composure did a circle and pretended to go after the rabbit, which no doubt by this stage had made it to China!  He really is a ninny!

We all bundled back down onto the beach and the kelb found a massive bit of seaweed he decided to engage in battle.  He picked it up and flung it into the air a few times and then grabbed it and ran off, the seaweed was so big that as he tried to run away with it he tripped and once again went sailing down the beach on his chin!  Planktonstein to the last!

 Have you ever just looked at someone and thought "who pee'd in that gene pool?"










Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Day 407 in Exile





Hahahahaahahahahaahahahahahaa!  Oh my, I have bellyache from laughing so much this morning!  The kelb has truly excelled himself today.  He woke the shrew up at 6 am, as he threw up seaweed he had consumed the day before all over her bedroom rug.  He is such a drama queen you can hear him hurling in Manchester!  The shrew cleared it all up and then went back to bed.  Once we got up and had breakfast we went for a walk to the beach, the first thing the kelb did was to run onto the beach and start grazing on the seaweed.  The shrew was outraged and began windmilling, she shooed him down to the far end of the beach away from any potential scavenging attempts.

We moved up into the dunes and as there was no one around and no sheep the shrew let the kelb free.  A move she was about to bitterly regret.  There were a few rabbits darting about the dunes and the kelb went after them, he is so old and slow he had no chance.  The shrew hurried through the dunes as I leapt about in the long grass snorting and checking out as many warrens as I could on my long line.  The kelb suddenly disappered, the shrew whistled, nothing.  She whistled again, still nothing.  This was very unusual for the kelb as he is such a big wuss if he loses eye contact with her he has a melt down.  The shrew whistled a third time and this time the kelb's stupid fat head popped up looking gormless as ever.  It would appear that Planktonstein had decided to go all Black Ops on the rabbits and disguise himself by rolling in the most rancid, smelly poo!

The shrew was raging.  She made him walk several paces ahead of us and then as we approached the beach again she put him back on a lead.  We made our way back down the path towards home the shrew chastised the kelb as we went, I could barely walk for sniggering.  The shrew had a major stomp on.  As we got into the last field two surfers came along the narrow path, but as soon as their nostrils made contact with the rancid smell of the kelb they gave us a very wide berth.  The shrew exaseprated feebly explained that it was the dog that smelt, I am not convinced they believed her as they scrabbled off as fast as they could, surf boards under their arms.

The kelb has now been shampooed to within an inch of his life and told in no uncertain terms if he even LOOKS at her new couches she will flatten him. He is pouting on his bed and she is pouting on the sofa.  I can't stop laughing!


Thursday, 25 October 2012

Day 384 in Exile






For once it is the kelb and not I that is in trouble!  This morning while we were out trudging in the torrential rain he saw a young deer.  I was far too busy wishing the shrew were wearing concrete shoes at the bottom of the ocean, as I slowly began to develop gills!  The kelb on the other hand sprang into action and darted down the hill like a tank.  The shrew, clearly not awake, was forced to flap about behind him like a limp hankerchief pulling me along for the ride as he powered down the hill.  It was so wet she struggled to gain traction and became shriller and shriller as she was dragged down the hill clinging onto his lead like an olympian water skier.  The deer had long gone into the brush, taking one look at the approaching gargoyle and red faced Medussa and fleeing for its life.  I was forced to trundle along as they engaged in battle, until the shrew finally managed to gain control and make an about turn in the opposite direction.  Thankfully we were heading back to the dry and warm of the car and the ride home.  I have put my jumper on and gone to bed for the day.  The kelb had better not even consider making eye contact with me today!  Not that I can see very well after having torretial rain beat into my eyes all morning!  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!


Thursday, 12 July 2012

Day 279 in Exile

The shrew cooked up a meal of Bratwurst and chips ( I know they are such cullinary giants!) a few days ago and the tubby infidels all tucked in with gusto.  The kelb and I were left sat in the background attempting our most pitiful looks in order to tempt the infidels into taking pity on us and sharing in their bounty.  It seemed we would have no such luck, and we were vigorously shooed away from  the edges of any plates in a most fierce manner!  We threw ourselves huffily to the floor and looked on salivating, as the greedy infidels scoffed down their tea without giving us a second thought!

Suddenly the shrew dropped half a sausage from her fork and to my horror the kelb immediately leapt into action pouncing in the direction that the sausage took as it fell from her fork.  He was no match for the shrew though; she swiftly caught the precious sausage with her knee and brutally fought the kelb off.  However, whilst she was pre-ocuppied with fending him off from the fallen prize, I swept in and swiped the remaining Teutonic delight from her plate and quickly choked it down on the run.  She was furious!  Oh it tasted delicious, I can see why the infidels are so reluctant to share it, even the man shrew was hard to work this evening as he relished each mouthful.

The shrew has the utter cheek to say that Salukis can sulk, it has been three days now and she is still eating as if she is on A Wing of a rather brutal prison!  If I even venture close to her plate I am met with the glint of her fork and a glare that would wither Superman.