Saturday, 24 December 2011

Day 81 in Exile

This morning, the shrew, myself and the kelb took our usual trot down to the beach and up into the hills.  Today she decided to take us up into the village on a circuit first and it turned out to be quite fun.  We walked up the hill out at the front of the house and on into the village.  Just at the top of the hill there is a builders yard and to the left of it a large pond teaming with ducks and geese.  The gate was open leading into the pond and I thought it might be fun to engage with these creatures.  I let out a bark and to mine and the shrew's absolute horror a big goose at the front reared up, all wings and beak and started to charge at me!  Very rude indeed!  I barked even more and started to rear up myself trying to free myself of the infidel shackles that they insist on walking me in.  The female was becoming hysterical as the goose ran up the lane towards the gate honking, closely followed by two or three others, all wings open and looking rather annoyed.  The harridan began to berate me and drag me up the road as she attempted to flee from the oncoming onslaught.  She almost tripped over me twice, as I was trying to pull my lead off and the kelb was as usual looking on gormlessly, as were a couple of villagers that had just come out of the shop.  I am not sure they have ever seen anything quite like it in their lives, a red faced shrieking harpy legging it up the road with a gormless kelb and a bucking hound, looking rather harrassed as she sped past them and yelled out "Sorry!"  The geese finally tired of chasing us and returned to their pond.  The villagers watched as the shrew darted out of sight into the scrub, giving me the stink eye all the way down the road.  I think she will find the beach and hills far less stressful in future!

Friday, 16 December 2011

Day 73 in Exile

This morning it has not been the harpy's day. We went for a walk on the beach and up into the hills, she had to make a slight diversion as there were sheep on the usual trail we take and whilst we can now walk past a field of them without yelling and pointing, she is not 100% confident about teetering on the edge of a cliff and passing them by.  No sense of adventure!

As we got up into the hills this morning a cheeky rabbit shot out of the dunes right into my path.  I was momentarily shocked, but being quick witted managed to grab it despite being on a lead and hold it.  At which point the shrew was utterly astounded and for just one moment speechless!  Of course her silence did not last and she told me to release it at once.  By this time the kelb realised that I had some treasure and also wanted to have some, so I was growling at him!  I don't share!  The shrill grinding of the shrew's voice was too much to bear and I decided to let the rabbit go, as I am a chaser not a killer and all my joy comes from running after the little furry creatures.  As I let it go I saw the horror on the female infidel's face as she braced herself and the kelb and I both took off in different directions, still on leads.  She was almost pulled in half like a wish bone and began shrieking even more.  She sounded like a crow sqwuaking and was flapping her arms around in an alarming manner.  Finally she got us back under control and the rabbit had made off into the dunes to no doubt have a heart attack.

We carried on walking through the hills and headed back towards the beach.  Just as we reached the top of a dune a little bird flew across her path bouncing down the hill in flight.  My running instinct kicked in and I took her off guard as I plummeted down the hill after the little bird taking her and the kelb with me.  I was quite impressed by the fact she remained upright until she was half way down the dune, which was pretty solid from the ground frost.  She tripped over her own feet and stumbled and once again the female infidel was flat out prone position face in the sand and miraculously still gripping onto our leads for grim  death.  She was very red in the face and through gritted teeth she yelled "STOP!".  The kelb was gormless as ever wondering what had just happened.

The shrew got up and brushed all the sand off herself, regained her composure and we made our way back along the beach towards home.  Normally she takes a little pathway back, but this morning she looked at it and it was very icy, so she decided to go back through all the fields.  We ambled along, and she almost lost her mind as the kelb started to munch on the frozen horse manure that was spread in the field.  I think this was a bridge too far for her this morning.  If only she had known that just as we tunred out of the last field the local farmer would send his flock down to the fields directly into our path.  I thought she would spotaneously combust as she attempted to scrabble back to the safety of the field we had just come out of, dragging us along behind her as she speed marched us up the road away from the oncoming sheep heading our way.  She somehow managed to shove us through the gate just as they all ran up the hill past us bleating and blowing raspberries at the kelb and I, who by now had been rugby tackled to the ground and were being held hostage behind a wall in a frozen field, as the shrew lay in the freezing mud  clinging onto our collars like her life depended on it cursing like Mrs De Nero and looking rather ticked off.  I don't know when we shall be walked again.


Thursday, 8 December 2011

Day 65 in Exile

Oh my stars, todays walk was so funny!  It is wild out there today, rain and high winds.  The shrew decided that she would walk us anyway, so we went through the ritual of bundling up and heading out.  Everything was going well until the kelb (yes I know you are shocked but I seriously was not enjoying the weather this morning) saw a rabbit on the beach.  The old bat must have seen it first, because she had already cunningly secured him to his lead.

After seeing the rabbit the female infidel decided we would get off the beach and head into the hills.  Well the boneheaded buffoon went into some kind of rampage, which resulted in the female having to attach him across her body so that she had her full weight (quite a considerable weight I can tell you) behind him as he dragged us most unceremoniously through the dunes, nose to the ground while the wind whipped around us.  The shrew bellowed like a cow in labour as she stumbled through the hills red faced and looking rather harrassed.

She obviously tired of this and turned back towards the beach.  Just as we reached the top of a dune I could see the cogs turning in her tiny mind and she decided it was far safer to let the kelb make his own way down the bank than to be dragged there by his beefy carcass.  She released him and he turned back to the hills teaming with rabbit warrens.  Most displeased and half way down the bank the female yelled to him to return immediately.  He turned and looked down on us from his vantage point and then suddenly to the shrew's absolute horror the dull witted buffoon decided to launch himself off the dune to the part of the path we were gingerly making our way down.  All I heard was the shrieking of a terrified infidel as the fat kelb landed right on top of us knocking the female infidel off her feet which resulted in us both rolling down the hill in a heap onto the beach.  Needless to say I was most diepleased by this and let them know by joining in the shrieking as we tumbled down the hill with the kelb in hot pursuit.  As we landed at the bottom all I could see was the gormless face of the kelb looking down at us wagging his stupid tail, the harpy by now was bright red and furious.  Needless to say that was the end of that little expedition and we went home with the kelb on an extremely short lead.  Even though I am very cross with him for knocking me over, I can't help but snigger that "Mr Perfect" is currently the one in trouble with the harpy this morning.  If I had not been so put off by the hideous weather, I might have joined forces with him on this one occasion.    He has certainly gained a tiny bit of kudos with me.

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Day 64 in Exile



Life at Ice Station Zebra has certainly got a hell of a lot chillier.  I never knew it was possible to be so cold!  Frozen white stuff has been falling from the sky for days, covering the ground in a crisp white carpet of icy horridness.  Walking with the harpy is such a bore at the moment, as she gingerly crawls along at a pace that would have a snail overtaking her!  Her dulcet tones filling the air as she shrieks at the kelb to "Go steady!".  I have even caught her toady rolling his eyes on walks of late, as she inches along the lane like an asthmatic tortoise.

This morning was hilarious!  We took a short walk to the beach this morning, as the shrew keeps bleating about a bad knee.  She was even more cautious than ever today, because the temperatures have dropped and the fallen snow has turned into a vast landscape of slippery ice.  Getting ready to go out takes forever, as she layers herself and us up in coats, attaches spikes to her shoes and wears all manner of bizarre attire before she will even contemplete stepping out of the house.  Once we were finally trussed up like stuffed penguins, we all waddled down the road to the beach.  Just as we reached the bridge to the beach the kelb became very excited and alerted me to a field full of sheep, the sheep seeing his gargoyle like features, took off across the field in fright ( he is very ugly).  I then decided to join in pointing out the sheep to the Harpy, who started to turn very red and become shriller and shriller as she was trying to fasten the gate shut again whilst holding onto a flimsy bag of (the kelb's) feces she had collected on route (a very strange infidel ritual that I am yet to undserstand) and both of our leads.  As we were both boisterously pointing out the sheep the bag of poo was being flung this way and that, I was sure it would burst open onto her head.  This was making her redder and redder and she became rather enraged at this point.  She finally managed to secure the gate and decided to leave the bag there to collect on the way back.  We headed for the bridge, at which point we were so excited at the prospect of some running that we rushed across the bridge at a rate of knots dragging her like a sack behind us as she stumbled and swore her way onto the beach.  The beach was also covered in ice at the top end where the sea had not reached and I burst into hysterics as the kelb was released and took off like a bat out of hell across the beach, only to hit the ice and skid legs flailing like a new born deer until he eventually landed in a crumpled heap winded and did a couple of rolls yelping.  he got up and then tested each leg trying to work out which one to feign injury from.  He is such a gormless git!

We had a run up and down the beach and then returned home.  I still felt hyped up after the walk and once the female infidel had freed me from my layers of coats and leads I rushed upstairs and un-made all of the beds.  She came up behind me and sent me back down, but as she was re-making the beds I followed her round at great speed and undid them again. However, she did not find it as amusing as I did! 

I am now lay in my basket under a balnket sleeping off this mornings shenanigans.

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Day 21 in Exile

Walking in this God forsaken land has proven to be a living nightmare!  Yesterday the female infidel dragged us to the beach, the winds were so high that I was literally blown clean off my feet 3 or 4 times at least!  The female infidel fancies herself as a comedienne and has discussed attaching weight bracelets to my ankles!  I might bite her!

The only consolation to all the misery is watching the kelb, he is even more of a buffoon than ever these days.  When we went to the beach yesterday, not only was I blown all over the place, but I was sand blasted to within an inch of my life as well!  The kelb didn't even seem to notice and spent his time "murdering" sea weed.  He was running up and down the beach like a lunatic.  I swear if he body slams me one more time I shall eat his liver!  The miserable shrew would not let me lose to dispatch a couple of crows that were taunting me, she was worried if I ran I would keep on running.  Whatever gave her that idea?  My life is so great, I bent over and a rainbow shot out of my ass! Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft!

I was reduced to hysterics last week when the male and female decided to drag us out in the most horrific weather.  The wind was howling and balls of ice were falling from the sky for goodness sake.  We walked along to the pier over the hill.  In order to get there one must negotiate a cattle grid, however there is a gate that can be opened, so they decided to take that option.  Before they had a chance to walk over to the gate, the kelb flung his beefy carcass across the cattle grid with all the grace of a stunned rhino!  The male infidel totally unexpecting this turn of events was dragged with him and the kelb did a double roll and landed in a heap the other side of the grid.  The female infidel then became enraged with the male infidel and yelled at him, as if the kelb's foolishness was all his fault, all the while I sniggered under my breath.  Thankfully the kelb's utter stupidity brought an end to the torment of having to walk in driving rain and we turned back for home.  The kelb put on an Oscar performance of being injured, but as usual he forgot which was the right leg and kept limping and holding out alternate legs.  I think the pier is now off the list of walks for the forseeable future.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

Day 14 in Exile

Where have the infidels brought me?  They have just taken me out for a walk in the wildest weather I have ever seen, I half expected an ambulance to pull up and for the infidels to be wheeled away in white jackets!  WTF were the balls of ice falling from the sky?  It was absolutely baltic out there.

I am currently sulking on the couch looking like a drowned Rastafarian!  My coat has become crimped to within an inch of its life, despite the fact I had an over-sized coat on to walk in.  I am not sure I shall ever speak to them again!  The television is being drowned out by the wind howling down the chimney.  The infidels are sat around in tracksuits drinking tea and looking soggy, the lounge looks like a Chav convention!

Monday, 17 October 2011

Day 13 in Exile

Finally the infidels conscience was pricked enough for them to come and collect me. It only took a near death experience and many months of agony on my part.  I tried to be indifferent towards them, but such was my joy to escape the gulag I could not contain myself for long.  Even the infidel's meagre abode with its lack of even the most basic of facilities, such as my own private poo pit, beat the hell out of 6 months being banged up abroad with a dribbling gargoyle with mental health and hygiene issues.

Once freed from the confines of the gulag I was then subjected to what I can only describe as a marathon drive (sleep) through the country I am now forced to reside in until we finally arrived at ice Station Zebra, which I believe I am now expected to rejoice in calling home.  Worse than that, they brought the kelb with us!  Will I ever be free of him?

The first day I was "home", the nefarious infidel, not happy with having made my life a living nightmare for the last 6 months, took me to see a Vee Ee Tee!  I was outraged!  The female infidel said I was fat!  How VERY dare she!   To my absolute horror, the vet agreed and I am now on a diet.  I am very unhappy about this, it has the word DIE in it!  I have been reduced to scouring the kitchen for any unguarded morsels. I managed to make off with a frozen chicken drumstick the other day, cold food is not ideal in the temperatures here in the Arctic, but beggars cannot be choosers.  My victory was short lived however as the miserable old shrew discovered me and viciously wrestled the chicken from my mandibles.  I was left to starve for the evening.

The only element of enjoyment in this desolate and frozen wasteland is the walking.  Never in my life have I experienced such variety of walks or travelled such distances.  The smells are amazing, unless of course the kelb is along for the ride, his fetid carcass tends to kill any other scent in a 100 mile radius!  We have been to some amazing locations, forests, beaches, piers.  On occasion though I have been put out by the weather on these excursions, long gone is the beautiful sunshine and palm trees of my home land, instead there are gale force winds and rain like stair rods!

I discovered a new joy the other day; apparently they are called sheep!  Little fluffy clouds of chaseability!  Of course the wretched infidels will not allow me to chase them.  They come over all dramatic about me being shot!  I haven't seen an armed and dangerous sheep yet!  The female infidel thought that a little jaunt through a field of the delightful creatures would desensitise me to them.  Oh foolish creature, it only served to further convince me that Mary's little lamb could not out run me.  After 15 minutes of hand to hand combat with me the female infidel threw her arms in the air in despair and carried my quivering carcass out of the field she was attempting to cross, stomping through the field like Ed 209.  She only became further enraged when I dined on the little nuggets of sheep poo or attempted to roll it into my fur to disguise my presence in the field.  As ever she remains the shadow of bore!  I am now forced to take a 50 mile detour just to avoid her having to wrestle me through a field.  She has been muttering about giving me to some farmer round the corner to deal with.  Of course the kelb, dumb as ever became excited in the field, but without knowing why he was excited!  Only a kelb!

Exile may just be fun!

Saturday, 27 August 2011

Day 1450 of Captivity

After what seems like an eternity, I still remain a captive in the gulag for dogs.  Last week I decided that I clearly had to take matters into my own hands if I was ever to escape the tedium of being locked up 24 hours a day with the imbecile of a kelb.  I decided that my best angle would be to take ill, requiring the Vet to come out and see me.  Now, this was a huge sacrifice on my part, as Vee Ee Tees are most certainly not my favourite people in the World, they always want to manhandle you!  Anyway I was hoping for a spot of R&R in the hospital wing away from the moronic conversations I have to endure living in close proximity to a buffoon.

The vet came out and after prodding me around, she left me with the kelb!  I was horrified.  It seemed it would take a little more determination on my part to get out of the cell.  Two hours later having accomplished my goal the Vet had to return to me.  I made sure this time to seem on the brink of death, as clearly that was what would be required to be taken seriously around here!  Much wringing of hands ensued, and I was placed on a drip and finally moved to a room of my own.  During my stay in this room I had round the clock attention.  The kennel hands kept poking their heads around the door looking anguished and I made sure to look as pitiful as possible.  I was hand fed and pampered.  I was sure by now the infidels would be consumed with guilt and rush to collect me from the gulag, having been in here for so long even they are an appealing option these days. 

I should have known that this would not be the case and after three days of hanging aound I became very tired of waiting!  I woke up that morning and decided there was nothing for it and chewed out the drip, shredded all my bedding and ate the door frame of the room all to show my displeasure.  Seeing that I was clearly feeling better the Vet returned and my jolly in the hospital wing was brought to a rather abrupt end!  I was thrust back into the cell with the kelb.  He was absolutely delighted to see me again of course,  the feeling was by no means mutual I can assure you.  I have decided that I have had enough of his incessant babble and so I have claimed the bedroom quarters as my own.  Every time he attempts to come in and bore me, I chase him away with a flea in his ear.  I think I might enjoy this as a new form of entertainment to pass away the dull days of captivity.  Having a companion, even if he is a buffoon, is a little more fun than being n the hospital wing really; of course the kelb doesn't have to know that.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Day 1360 of Captivity

Well I don't think much to the British paparazzi!  I am still here, locked up in the gulag with the ghastly kelb, who actually seems to be quite enjoying himself.  He has taken to inciting riots against the neighbouring kelb, a pitiful creature called Henry.  The kelb spends all day tormenting him and yelling abuse over the prison wall.  Henry sounds rather like an asthmatic version of Darth Vader, I fear he may keel over at any second judging by the rasping sounds coming from his cell!

The paparazzi photographer that came several weeks ago left us with a small token of his appreciation.  We were both given a toy with a squeaker inside.  The kelb being a buffoon ran up and down the cell wall showing off to Henry, goading the poor creature to the edge of madness.  Needless to say as soon as the gormless one discovered it annoyed his mortal enemy I have been forced to endure a fortnight of him repeating this asinine exercise.  This has greatly annoyed Henry, and strangely enough I have often felt the urge to insert said squeaker into various parts of the kelb's anatomy!

I reached breaking point a couple of days ago and was forced to confine him to his quarters upon pain of death or at least the threat of excruciating pain should he continue.  The gulag staff did not seem to appreciate my taking matters into my own hands and have carried out a snatch raid of his crate so I am no longer able to intimidate him.  I have now been classed as a dangerous inmate and a category A prisoner, instead of the poor victim of a bubbleheaded buffoon!  They should try being cooped up for 24 hours with someone whose idea of fun is drooling incessantly and sniffing ones own farts!  Is it me?

Wednesday, 13 April 2011

Day 1318 of Captivity

Finally, my embassy has learnt of my plight at the hands of the nefarious infidels!  I was more than a little disappointed that instead of sending representatives from the embassy, they sent some members of the British paparazzi to photograph my predicament.  No doubt it will take time to build a case against the infidels and I shall have to remain steadfast and patient whilst they do this.  The male member of the paparazzi took many photographs and I made sure to look as pathetic as I could possibly muster in order that when the Bedouin learn of this outrage they are suitably horrified by my circumstances.


Not only have I been incarcerated in a foreign land against my will, but they have also locked me up with the kelb!  I hope that the paparazzi were not under the impression that we are together or that he needs saving too!  To add insult to injury I am surrounded by kelbs, the neighbouring beasts are truly frightful and I thought that the kelb I have been forced into residence with was a gargoyle!  I do not know how long I can last in this perdition.  

The male member of the Paparazzi seemed to know that Marshmallows were my kryptonite and he came fully armed with them, that dastardly man even managed to coax me out of the indoor enclosure.  I hope that seeing photos of me being hand fed marshmallows does not interfere with the case in any way, I feel rather embarrassed that I was not strong willed enough to resist, but in this gulag one takes the good things where one can.

I have been forced to maim myself by causing a small friction burn on my nose.  This is after all a prison and I don't want the other kelbs to think me a weakling.  I felt a small scar was a minor sacrifice in order to give me some notoriety and make the kelbs fear me, as now they think I am bit dangerous because I am sporting a wound.  Oh, kelbs are so vapid, they are easily fooled!


Yes, I believe it makes me look rather savage, if not a little vicious.  Hopefully it will keep any potential threat from these brutes at bay.  

Of course the vacuous one is enjoying every minute of this hideous incarceration and spends his days staring at the neighbouring kelbs in deep fascination.  I cannot believe he thought he was the only one of his kind, huh!  If only!  Whenever the guards come into the enclosure, he of course throws himself at them in total delight and acts in a completely undignified manner giving them a paw and generally being a little sycophant. It is absolutely sickening to see.


I can only pray that the press releases the story of my plight soon in order that the embassy can repatriate me to my beloved land and free me from this frozen nightmare!

Friday, 25 March 2011

Day 1287 of Captivity

No wonder those nefarious infidels have been keeping me away from the laptop! I have discovered their dastardly plan and it is diabolical indeed, they intend to force me to leave my beloved land and live in the Scottish Highlands!  That is almost the Arctic!  I will surely freeze to death!

This is not the only fiendish plan they have up their sleeves, apparently not only are they dragging me across the world to a frozen wasteland, but I must first be sent to live in a gulag for dogs!  I have to share a cell with the fetid kelb for 6 long and ghastly months!  I can't believe it!