A short update on my trip to the gulag.

I don't know why The Typist worries about my diet so much.

Yesterday's yummy brekkie [rudely dragged from my throat by Cushion.]


It looks like I will be going to Camp Could Be Nice! I was going to show you pictures of the place, and the 2 short horsies and giant black pig that live there, but The Typist stuffed up and the piccies are gone.

Camp Could Be Nice is just like The Camp Commandant's place so I will be out in the paddock during the day with the other doggies. It looks cleaner though [important only to my humans] and I won't have to sleep in a cage at night. All us dogs get to sleep in a sheltered enclosed verandah right next to the house. 

And guess what I saw when I was there? 2 big containers of raw chicken carcasses! [excess fat removed]. I think I'm going to be okay. Don't you?
Are you guys sure there aren't any doggy holiday camps next to a beach?

The Dilemma.

Sorry we've been missing again! The Typist has been busy planning the first of the reccy trips to find us a cheap another place to live. They will be going to somewhere called Noo Zeelen next month. The stinkers aren't taking me along because, apparently, it was too hard to find doggy friendly places to stay in. This means I am off to the gulag again and my humans have been checking out a few possibilities. Why isn't there someone like Ms Jean or Bert and his Vickie here? It is too sad. 

Here is our short list. Who would you go with?

#1 Massa D.
I sometimes meet Massa D in the park. He takes doggies out for walks and has them stay over at his house. He has 5 doggies of his own. They get to eat yummy food like beef casserole, pork chops and spaghetti bolognaise. They get hand fed many times a day, and sleep on the couch and Massa's bed. He must love them lots. Last weekend, I had a sleepover and met Massa's cat. I yowled at her! I have never seen a cat in a house before! they are always on the street where I live! I tried to jump up the cupboard to say hello! But Massa was pretty strict and I didn't get to kiss the cat after all. The Typist a.k.a. My No Fun Nutritionist isn't keen to let me stay with Massa because all 5 of his dogs are very very fat from their special diet and she's not sure Massa will feed me boring food. Personally, I have no problems being very very fat and hope she will re-consider her decision so I can improve my culinary knowledge.

#2 The Camp Commandant.
I've stayed with The Camp Commandant twice before. It's the place where I get to stay outside all day, walk in a pack, dig holes and get muddy. I only get to eat once a day though, and sleep in a cage which is a bummer. The best thing about The Camp Commandant is that I don't get baths at her place. I stayed 5 weeks the last time and never got bathed once! My jammies and blankie didn't get washed either. They were so gummy, The Typist had to bin the blankie. She would have binned my jammies too but it cost too much money. It was 3 weeks before I smelt normal again. The very worst thing about The Camp Commandant is that she smacked me on the head (very hard) for kerfuffling with one of her dogs. It was when I got dropped off and was scared. My humans were not at all happy, but it was too late to look for another place because they were leaving the next day for Brazeel. To everyone's surprise, I survived The Camp Commandant and came home better behaved and in good shape.

#3 Camp Could Be Nice.
We are right now on our way to Camp Could Be Nice! It is almost 2 hours away and just like The Camp Commandant's place which means I get to stay outside all day with other doggies. The Typist says the doggies there get a bath before they go home. This seems frightfully important to her. I think it sucks but, apart from that, it looks nice in the piccies on the i.n.t.e.r.n.e.t. so we are hopeful.

Here I am, on my way. Wish me luck!

Rainy day rambling.

With nothing but rain and dropping temperatures predicted for the rest of the week, my mind has turned to mush and memories.

My mother used to say an idle mind is a devil's workshop. She loved her proverbs. I remember being quite insulted when she said it to me. ¿Por qué mí?  I was an active and fairly industrious child. Maybe she was just being menopausal and disagreeable, as I am now. Age gives you perspective.

Today, my idle mind is wondering what excellent stuff I could be doing if only I was 18 again [not that I would ever want to be 18 again].

This is definitely on the shortlist.

This pic from HERE.

Apparently, you can also do it a little higher off the ground.

This pic from HERE.

I first saw it in Rio, in Ipanaema I think. 

I had no idea what it was called and I have no idea why I didn't ask. Too shy I guess. So it was almost 1 and a 1/2 years later, on my flight home from Brisbane 3 weeks ago that I found out. It's called slacklining. It was featured in the inflight magazine and you can read about it HERE.

Further down the beach, on that rather grey day, other boys were...

...learning to surf? Maybe there's a name for this fun activity as well and I just haven't learnt what it is yet.

But the #1 thing I would like to do if I was 18 again has to be this!

This and more cool shots from HERE.

It would almost be worth it going through uni, acne and unrequited love again, just to have the bone strength, agility and stupidity fearlessness required to learn parkour. You can read about this art of displacement HERE. 

Or better still, watch it here!

I can't watch parkour without a serious case of envy. Do you think their mothers worry?

And finally...perhaps some of you have already met this fella?

Somehow, I don't think it'd be too easy keeping him in the backyard.


Do you have anything you wish you could learn or do, but feel the time is past?





Oops. Did I forget to mention aerial silk?

This pic from tumblr.

19 days later.

Yes! We're alive! Thank you so much for your emails and comments asking how we are. Dear Livie and Petey, I hope your potato pancakes turned out well. Mary and Ben, no we're not in Brazil, unfortunately. Querida Sonia, do not worry! Tudo está bom aqui! I wish I had a good reason for not posting lately and something earth-shattering [or even vaguely interesting] to tell you but, the truth is, I've just been lazy. 

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I got this cartoon, week before last, from Ms Khalap and Anny. They apparently stole borrowed it from facebook.

Thank you ladies!

The resemblance is uncanny, don't you think? 

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Since I'm here, I might as well share a couple of shitty stories that happened last week while I wasn't blogging.

First, some background. 

Georgia's stomach hasn't been good for a while. She's been to see Dr Dog, had a round of antibiotics, and has been eating small meals of pap and psyllium husk for over a month. Being silly devoted dog parents, Cushion and I exchange notes about the consistency of her poop every day, so I can adjust her meals accordingly.

Completely unrelated to this, I've been wanting to try a German bakery that's in a suburb next to ours. Last Monday, I asked Cushion if he would swing by the place on his way home from walking Georgia. I googled the address and text it to him along with what I wanted.

20 minutes later, I got this text back.

Now, I was sure the online menu had said "individual pies" and not "by the slice". So I replied...

...and promptly got this message back.

 I'm sure you would have been just as confused as me, right? 

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If you remember, Cushion has sleep apnea. A CPAP machine helps keep his airways open at night. I have cute piccies of him in his new bought-from-Brisbane tropical jammies, wearing his strap and mask, but he would kill me if I posted them so you'll just have to imagine it. He looks like Darth Vader with a beige chin strap. 

The machine sits on a low chair, between his bed and Georgia's on the floor. One night, we were all fast asleep when suddenly, I heard a frantic gurgling. I woke up just in time to see the man tearing off his mask, gasping and gagging. What do you think happened?

It seems Georgia had farted in her sleep and the CPAP machine had sucked in the fumes as it wafted from her bottom, and... well...I suppose you can guess the rest.

"Lies! All lies! I am a lady and I do not fart."

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I hear google reader will be disappearing soon. [Insert *sigh*] Thanks to Mango's Momma, I've signed up to feedly. This morning, feedly informed me I have over 670 unread posts. Dear god. How is that even possible? Some of you bloggers are obviously way too industrious. It's highly unlikely I'll be able to plough through all of them, so if I've missed something especially delicious that's happened in your life, please feel free to leave me a link to the post[s] and/or a scold. 

Meanwhile, back to enjoying some autumn sunshine with my doggy, who has inexplicably started to prefer my company over Cushion's. 

"That foot massage feels very nice, Typist."

"Will you be preparing my peanut butter bikkie any time soon?"

As I said, it's inexplicable. 

Until the next time... :) X

P.S. Many of you have been asking after my brother. Thank you! He's still in hospital. He was put in an induced coma for over a week following the post-bypass complications but is now awake, out of ICU and doing all right. Unfortunately, there are now further complications in the throat area that make it impossible for him to eat or drink normally so he's being 100% intravenously fed. His recovery is now expected to take much, much longer than first anticipated. Sister 1 will be taking over from Sister 2 next week, and we're all just taking each day as it comes.