The Dinner Party

It's always a very mixed reaction in our house when I announce that we're having a dinner party - the boys are always immediately very excited about the opportunity to act as chief food tasters and G looks as if he is entering an execution chamber.  This is not because he is unsociable, but rather because of the furore that surrounds having a dinner party in our house.  Not only does the normal mess have to be cleared away, but there suddenly springs up a requirement not only for our house not to look normal, but to look like no-one lives in it at all.  So any clutter gets shoved in boxes, children get scrubbed to within an inch of their lives, everything sparkles and gleams, cushions are plumped and husbands are despatched upstairs to change the trousers they have just donned for the evening... Throw a puppy into the mix and anything could happen...

With this in mind, and knowing that Muttley could not just be filed away in a box for the evening, I decided to warn everyone about attire and then take evasive action and get my guests inebriated, hopefully not before I did and forgot about the food...  All the guests arrived, the ladies in trousers, with the exception of R, who always loves a chance to get glammed up, who turned up in a gold sparkly dress... 'Nice dress,' I said, just before Muttley launched himself at her enthusiastically and she disappeared beneath licks and wags.  A couple of strawberry mojitos for all later, she had totally recovered herself, but the dog had disappeared beneath a torrent of kisses from T who was desparately trying to convince her dog agnostic husband of the benefits of being a dog owner.

For the actual dinner, Muttley lay happily in his bed, as I had cooked a curry, and didn't fancy seeing many happy returns of the spicy food the next day. However, I relented when it came to dessert, as in fact it had turned out a little disastrously, and what was supposed to be a sophisticated cardomom and bitter chocolate torte resembled something more like Angel Delight...  So as a distraction Muttley was allowed to the table to entertain with his newly learned tricks Sit and Paw while I assembled the cheese course, and by this stage even Sit and Paw were greeted with rapturous wine fuelled applause.  It was then that I discovered that  Muttley liked cheddar...  Whilst T was going in for another embrace (her husband was studiously avoiding her pleading eyes) Muttley nicked a piece of cheese from the plate and held it hidden in his mouth until she let him go.  Then he polished it off.  In disgrace, he sat at my feet, where I confess I forgot about him as we had recently bought an electric shock game that the men were playing with immense bravado at the other end of the table. Rather like a TENs machine crossed with Pass the Bomb, the excitement was in who was going to be given the electric shock.  Unfortunately it happened to be G, who leapt up from the table, showering both the man opposite and the dining room wall in red wine.

On seeing that the man of the house was in extreme danger, and having an opportunity to redeem himself, Muttley jumped up barking, hurling himself towards G and the women started throwing napkins helpfully over the wine soaked man.  Chaos ruled...

Now of course in the excitement, I had forgotten about the cheddar... and the puppy rule, that what goes in, comes out.  As I was saying a fond farewell at the door to my guests, one man said to another 'Hey mate, that curry's moving through you fast!'  'Not me' the other man replied... and suddenly we all clicked - our bleary eyes focussing in on two perfectly formed poos...'ARGHHH' shouted R, her fingers clamped over her nose and mouth, another lady guest looking a little faint...

Muttley simply sat there, his head to one side, and yawned.  It had been a long night and he was dog tired....

A Cautionary Tale

 Never forget that puppies are really toddlers dressed up in fur… Yesterday Portuguese M came round to help me clear the house of chewed up bits of toys, clothes on the floor, those mysterious balls of fluff that appear in the corners of a room – all in preparation for the dinner party I am holding tonight. Now Portuguese M is a garrulous type of woman who has a story for every event but with an accent to go, and one has to really concentrate, particularly when the genders get mixed up and strange malapropisms appear.And of course once she saw Muttley she launched into her very own tale of how intelligent these ‘leetle doggies’ were.  Rather like a bored toddler waiting patiently by her side, I could see Muttley’s attention begin to waver, and as they were both by the open kitchen door, he began to do a surreptitious back shuffle towards the garden. Just then, from out of nowhere, a fox appeared on the lawn, and with a great whoop of joy Muttley shot after him, following him through a previously undetected hole in the fence and into our neighbours garden.

Now we live on a quiet lane, but our neighbours face on to the main road that runs through Mytchett, and I can’t vouch for the security of their fencing as they don’t have a dog.  So lead in hand I ran down our lane and out along the rat run that takes you into and out of, the village.  There was Muttley, panting in excitement as I approached him, his f ront legs splayed out slightly, ready to run. I commanded him in my best Barbara Woodhouse voice to Come – and he ran straight out in front of the traffic.

Luckily, the people of Mytchett are in the main dog lovers, and cars scattered everywhere in their attempt to avoid the excited pup who at this point had that look of bravado in his eyes that meant that he knew he had gone too far but didn’t know how to stop himself.  Luckily with the help of Joe and his mate from Joe’s Emporium (our local house clearance sale shop) we managed to herd Muttley into a driveway and capture him. Joe’s mate said ‘Border collie? I used to ‘ave one o’ those…They’re very intelligent they are, they can read your mind’, I was thinking, I hope he can’t read my mind right now…

So this morning G is on patching up fence duty, and I have booked up puppy training classes.  In the meantime Muttley sleeps, secure in the knowledge that today is another day.

A Dawn Surprise

 Now most of you know that I am extremely short sighted, and on waking up at the 6am alarm in the morning, I am usually extremely bad tempered. This is usually remedied by caffeine and so it falls to me to stagger downstairs, negotiating the new stair gate that the kids open with ease, but which baffles the adults every time, and trip over a very excited puppy who is delighted to...

be able to wake up to another day of play, play, play.

Imagine my surprise then, when I looked out bleary eyed into the dusky lawn and noticed (I kid you not), a bona fide Penguin sitting bolt upright in the garden. Now I’m no penguin expert, and Mytchett is not renowned for its colony of penguins, I do know that it wasn’t your King Emperor type penguin, but rather a small one with brown wings and a black head. To my horror, Muttley also spied it, and in one swift movement captured the penguin and started shaking it from side to side with immense growls before smashing its head on the ground. The penguin didn’t seem at all bothered by the turn of events and then I realized that it was in fact a stuffed toy… I didn’t know whether to be cross at the fact that even the dog has managed to work out the stair gate and sneak upstairs to one of the kids bedrooms, or glad that I wasn’t actually watching the making of Happy Feet 3: the Murder….

Cats v Dogs

The latest on Cats v Dogs: my cats have long been terrorised by two young cats who wear swanky collars and an air of confidence as they swagger into our garden. Because of their gangsta 'tude I've taken to calling them Ronnie and Reggie altho in reality they are probably Fluffy and Tiddles. Today one of mine was cornered in the garden by Ronnie (or Reggie). Muttley wagged his tail at Ronnie- whose confidence disappeared by the second as Muttley approached, and eventually he shot off under a bush and our cat sauntered off after him as if to say 'My brother's bigger than yours'. Which only goes to show that you can never tell how things are gonna turn out (and that I need to get out more!!!!). ;-)

Cats on Strike

Rather like the tented protesters outside Parliament Square this year, the cats have set up camp outside the house. I expect to see little furry paws clutching placards saying 'Kick butt to Mutt' and 'Feline rights for All'. And  like  some of the tented protesters, they sneak in at night for food and radiators before taking up their posts again in the morning... And so continues the circle of life in Mytchett....

The first Day

Day 1 and Muttley is already one of the boys-constantly wanting food and attention!!! He is (cross fingers) a delight to have around. We have already reenacted the cat scene in Lady and the Tramp and so far so good. Let puppy training commence...