GRAFMAX

Nina has come to the end of her false pregnancy and seems, to all intents and purposes, to have post-natal depression. Or maybe she's just fed up with Max following her around and licking her fanny. There is definitely a noticeable hormonal change at that point. I always know exactly which day it happens as Max goes off his food and starts trying to mount her. (He mounts Satchmo too, which leaves the pup looking confused). It's like a lesser version of his behaviour when sh

This post is (almost) nothing to do with the dobes. I've just got back from running a 2700 delegate international meeting in Prague. So what? So, a week or so before it was due to start, the Icelandic volcano erupted and all flights stopped. It was touch and go for a while. We sent one team overland in a minibus driven by my neighbour and the rest of us took a 26 hour train journey. We had 127 invited speakers; most got there, we videod some of the US ones, and made a few sub

r perhaps Nina did it on purpose just to get out of going to a show tomorrow. The last time I entered her for one, she dashed off in the fields and came back ripped to shreds. Had to have 3 staples in one front leg and 1 in the other. The vets love me! The insurers don't. If I'm not in for more than a fortnight, the vets start dusting off the redundancy plans.

Poor Nina does occasionally tend to miss out on the attention, what with Satchmo being a hoodie and Max flirting (he's sat on my lap as I write). Not in the last few days though. Little tomboy Nina (aka Miss Bean) has been in the wars yet again (third time in 12 months). This time I got home from an overnight trip to find a horribly deep cut about three inches from her tail. Looks for all the world as though she's been stabbed with a chisel. Off to the vet yesterday morning,

Well, this week's little adventure is another incident with a cable. While the builder was away buying some bits and pieces (technical building term, that) for the pond, Satchmo was managing to grab the cabling from the new pond pump, drag the pump up out of 5 ft of water and over the edge and leave it in the middle of the drive. First thing I knew was getting home from work and finding a note saying, 'How do you want your dog cooked ... slow roast or barbie?' Got home toda

Satch has recently: pulled up all the cabling for the outside lights so I had to pay the gardener to dig new trenches for them; pulled up another bit and bitten through it (fortunately - or not - the power was off so no 12v shock); bitten a chunk out of the TV aerial; demolished 2 honeysuckles; stolen various of the builder's tools and chewed the handles; broken an eggcup (actually that might have been Max). Still love him, so he must have quite some boyish charm...

Dogs are happy. Nina's season is over, we're all together. We even sat together in front of a log fire yesterday. I've been home most of the time as it's the Easter break, and there have even been some decent walks. Doggie heaven. Pretty much Susie heaven too. Got to go - Satch making it quite clear he wants his dinner.