THE ROAD TO FREEDOM
DAY ONE: Well, this is a good turnout so far. Yesterday morning I was a dog ‘not wanted on voyage’. Then I got taken off to see a nice two legs called Sue Hird and her mum and two other Dobes that live with her. I was a bit confused to be handed on to this other two legs, for ‘fostering’, but he fussed me up and he seemed OK so I decided to like him.
A had a car trip with him to The Yorkshire Dales, which went well, as I don’t at all mind cars I did get a bit bored when I was left for a couple of minutes while the two legs “secured the garden gates” as they put it. However, I fixed that by hopping onto the drivers seat and sounding the horn a few times. That had them coming running I can tell you, aha !
There is this other Dobe there. A very smart bit of Doberman girl I thought. Very sniff able. She told me to mind my manners and steer clear of HER chair, but we should get on fine as long as I do as she tells me. Some women, eh lads?
I got taken to the puppy doctor in the evening, jabs, microchip, new bandages on my sore legs and all sorts. The vet said I was very good, and that Dobes were to be admired because we have fortitude, or is that forty chewed [I was getting hungry]. Then back to my new place for dinner … Kibbles with Beef and Country Vegetables, plus some meaty lamb. Oh yes, I could get used to this, especially as the vet said I needed a little extra to put some muscle bulk back on as I am thing. Hurrah, a licence to guzzle methinks.
The two legs are explaining the house rules to me. These include not thieving food, not scratching doors, not barking unless a stranger, or was that “strangler” ?, approaches the house. Not biting said strangers unless instructed to do so. And some “do’s” as well : do be happy, do let the two legs love you up, do enjoy the big bean bag, do get on it when asked to do so, and please do all dog stuff outside if possible.
My foster two legs got me up at the undogly hour of six o’clock this morning for pees and poohs PLUS a big bonio to start the day with. I am told there WILL be breakfast after a lead walk.
Well, as the airman said while he was waiting for his parachute to open, so far, so good. I can see why FOND are so called now. It’s ‘cos they are fond of us Dobes and that’s OK, ‘cos we Dobes are fond of two legs as long as they obey our rules, right ?.
Signing off now. Happy leg lifting to all till next time.
CHRISTMAS UPDATE: Well Friends, I seem to be making progress with these two legs. I have them trained to give me plenty of food for a start. I try to encourage them by wolfing down everything put in front of me. I MIGHT become more selective if the quality declines in any way, but this has been a good billet so far.
I have also discovered that the two legs have installed a Swedish made dog-warming cabinet, I think they call it an AGA. It’s very nice to lie alongside on a cold day, though I do wish the owners of it would stop disturbing me to open the doors of it. They seem to think it is for preparing their food on as well as Dobe warming. Rather selfish of them, although I like the flow of warm air from the open doors, which I can maintain temporarily by placing myself between the AGA door and the person’s hand that is trying to close it.
The two legs have an issue with me licking my legs. I admit one of them is rather threadbare, but it is very itchy as soon as their slimy goo wears off under the bandages.However, demonstrating my skills at bandage removal seems not to have been the attention grabbing party piece that I had hoped. It’s not my fault, the two legs who “looked after me” [pause while I laugh !] encouraged me to take self mutilation through the art of licking till bald. This lot, however, don’t think it’s the right hobby for a cracking good looker like me. That said the bandage strategy seems to be wearing off. They have taken to shoving my head into some piece of plastic that looks like a prop ruff from a Shakespeare Play. It’s just at night, and my legs are being “purpled” with spray, which is nicer than the bandages and leaves my elegant legs open to the air where the ladies can admire them.
The male two legs is not a bad bloke. True to say though he wasn’t pleased when some-one, NOT me, hickeyed up their breakfast on the VetBedding in HER chair. The noise of his unhappiness had both of us scurrying off to our respective beds ! Talking of which, I have news of Susan Snowflake. Our dear departed colleague Bailey, or to give him his “nom de FOND” Nelson described her as a “posh bird” and so she is. So I was very chuffed when she joined me in my nest of bean bags for a side on cuddle. No sniffing, licking, or any deployment of tongues allowed on a first date, but she is definitely melting. I am just waiting my time to be on fire with passion if my very slightly wonky back leg can stand the excitement.
We are also going in “Her” car together after our walks, and happy to report I have been released into the wild to free run for a short time. I keep close to the two legs as I don‘t yet know the terrain, but got a game with Susan Snowflake. Golly that girl can run. Just wait till I get my muscles back and I will do my medal winning speed demo. Besides which I have my tail, so should be able to out–corner her.
The only slight down side, which Susan Snowflake has warned me about, is the music. She tells me that the male two-legs has a fondness for most things Scottish. His best friend is an Edinburgh Scot, and he is prone to tell folks that you can’t beat a Scot to have at your side in a scrap “too proud to hide, too fierce not to enjoy a fair fight. Best soldiers in the World bar none he says”. That admiration runs to the music as well, Susan says. … but warns me that when he is playing his Runrig music if he ever gets his violin or his drum kit out to accompany them I should just RUN, not stop to get any toys to take with me, JUST RUN.
Well, I am off on my walk now, with breakfast to follow. I am promised a little turkey with the supper tomorrow, though I was disappointed to be told that this is NOT a household that treat us Dobe’s like humans and give dog-vomit and worse inducing human meals at Christmas. Still, look on the bright side, it doesn’t look as though I am going to be decked out with tinsel and one of those bloody silly paper hats either. Also these two legs just celebrate Christmas on their own, so no smelly, boozed up strangers reeking of their gifts of Old Spice and Estee Lauder Youthdew intruding on our territory and trying to be matey. Just my new friend Susan and our two-legs.
Enjoy the two photos of me enduring the hardships of my foster home. Will WebLog you all after Christmas, have a really good one.
A Happy New Year to all my readers
My male two legs reward for playing the big charity concert for his brass band was to catch a stinking cold. It doesn’t look as though he will give it to me, which would be most vexing, but it meant that his usual Christmas diet of whisky and wine [not shared with us dogs] and cheese straws and small pieces of his turkey dinner [shared] were in short supply. Susan Snowflake’s ‘helpful’ remark to me that ‘You should have been here last year I did really well on the scrounging’ did NOT go down well.
My exercise periods have become really good fun, as I am taken off to a large field with a river and allowed to do dog things, and to chase my housemate Susan around to see if I can capture the Wubba from her. To give the two-legs credit they were throwing two Wubbas but gave up when they realised that Susan and I were only keen to have whichever one of the Wubbas was in the mouth of the other of us.
I am expecting visitors on Sunday. There is some talk of my interviewing them to see if they have a good enough ‘forever’ home for me to go to. I have had enough of dud two legs in my life so they really need to score highly on my kindness rating system. Sue, the FOND special agent will be here to help me make up my mind about them. Meanwhile I know that my foster two legs have lost their hearts to my boyish charms and loving nature. I keep telling the male two legs that I could be even more loving if I was allowed to share his king sized bed. He told me that it wasn’t something that men and dogs should be doing, and cheerfully called me something very non PC !
I just hope that when the visitors come I get a proper share of any mince pies and mincemeat slices that are going. Susan has offered to help secure some goodies for us, bless her hairy hide. I am happy to miss out on the Malmsey wine though, alcohol is not a dog thing. Oh, except for, I am told, the Duvel Belgian lager that one of my two-leg’s old Dobes used to like a taste of. And that is us Dobes defined of course: none of your cheap Danish beer muck, only the best quality, expensive, hand brewed lager beer would do. We truly are a breed fit for a Queen, with German ancestry, as she has, to boot, which makes it even more of a puzzle why the two legs’ Queen is messing around with common Welsh Corgis when she could be in the company of dog royalty like us.
On which cheerful note. So long for now, Happy Sniffing and keep out of the rain, the warm, dry Dobe is the Happy Dobe.