A very sad Rupert

I am a very sad Rupert. I have to tell all my friends reading my blog that my dad, David, has died. It was very sudden. Linda and I had been out for a walk. When we got back David was on the sofa. I tried to lick him better, but it was too late.

Now, I have to be the man of the house and be strong for Linda. It’s difficult because I just want to sit in a corner a cry. But she needs me — and I need her — so I try not to let her out of my sight for too long.

We are going to miss David very, very much. He was the best dad any dog could have. I was very lucky to have known him. Linda is the best mum too and we’ll help each other to cope with our dreadful loss.

Another postcard from Rupert

Hi Mom and Dad,

There is a lot going on here. The most exciting thing is that Jessie arranged for me to meet up with my friend Ferney and we raced over fields. Jessie asked me not to run off into the woods or chase deer or rabbits because she was worried I might disappear altogether. Did she mean that I might get lost? Moi? Jamais!

But I agreed so I could go on that walk with Ferney. We set off and I was especially good in her car while driving to the meeting place. I didn't whine or squeal at all. When I met Ferney I behaved really well… until we picked up the scent of a deer and raced into the woods. I thought Jessie was going to faint. But I came back to her quickly. Her face was a bit white but I showed her it was only a bit of sport and how good I am at it. She hugged me.

Going home in her car she asked me to sit on the back seat. I know better, so I stayed standing. But Jessie had to stop a little suddenly and I over-balanced. So now I am going to sit in her car. In fact, I find I prefer it: I look better — more regal as Jessie chauffeurs me along — and I can easily survey the fields from the partially opened windows. My ears get to swing a little too.

Linda, I am pleased you gave Jessie that lesson on post-walk grooming.

Here I am in the photo having a “funky toiletage chez Jessie”. Not bad, eh? Afterwards, I insisted Jessie gave me my dinner before she suggested we went off to harvest yet another bucket of tomatoes from that dreaded potager. Boy, I can tell you a potager is hard work — and it distracts her from the really important things in life like cuddling me, feeding me or letting me take her on another walk.

I am sorry I didn't write yesterday, but life is good here — very hectic. And oh yes, I have given Jessie’s barn builders invaluable instruction whenever they seemed stuck. I am sure Jessie and the builders couldn't have done without me. But I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I shall sit in Jessie's car and be safe.

I mustn't forget to remind Jessie to bring my bed, the grooming basket and most importantly, the box of bickies. Please have my chicken aux fines herbes ready for me. It’s been fun here. I like sleeping next to the Aga, I tried sleeping next to her bed, but I like my bed here with a view — and next to the Aga.

I have just overheard a phone conversation to say that I am going home. I have enjoyed my visit here to Jessie's. I should have guessed something was up this morning we are out at the crack of dawn in the mist for a long walk. I let Jessie give me the left over chicken breast cooked in herbs, lemons and oranges that she made for Ferney's mom the other night for breakfast. Though why she wiped off all the sauce I'll never know. Still it was delicious.

I see she's beginning to pack up my stuff.

See you soon.

Your boy

Rupert

Postcard from Rupert

 Dear Mum and Dad,

As you know, I’m staying with Jessie for a few days. Obviously, you do know because you left me there and Jessie had to give me a biscuit to distract me after you’d left. I saw you disappear behind the olive tree next to the swimming pool. I watched you get into the car and I suppose I got a bit anxious. But as soon as I heard the biscuit box being opened I had to turn my attention to that task. Despite my anxiety, I did enjoy the biscuit.

However, Jessie has no expertise in this matter and has a lot to learn. It’s a good job I’m a good teacher. She struggled with her short fingernails — she has real gardeners fingernails, poor woman — useless for opening a biscuit box. I had to help her. So I let out another anxious noise and she got the picture pretty quickly and found a knife to open the box. 

She made me do that “wait for the bickie” game. I didn't mind, I like to please. But boy, I could see that she was trying to make sure I did not to see your car pass by on the driveway. I shot a quick glance at your car but I decided to stay with the “wait for the bickie” game.  At last ,when your car was out of the picture, I was allowed to take it. It was as usual delicious, those bickies never disappoint, for sure.

Then I took Jessie for a walk round her fields. They obviously have deer and sanglier here. I picked up the scents, alright.  But Jessie wasn't in the mood for heading into the woods after them. It could have been the rain that started up again.  She may be a bit of wimp when it comes to rainy walks in the woods. I will have to wait and see.

Anyway I did all my ablutions and feel on top form. Especially after my blue towel rub down and another brush and being settled into my bed. 

I should mention that at the moment I am still in bed looking out the picture window where I have a splendid view of the surroundings. 

I want you to know I am fine, but please don't stay away too long, because I am not sure about the wood walking with Jessie. Perhaps you could find a raincoat, umbrella and wellies for her.

Right now, I am thinking of another bickie so I have moved to the cupboard where Jessie put them on the top shelf. I am sure I will have to squeak again to get one.  I hope Jessie  won't see through my cunning plan. She has just given me a head rub and it was nice. 

Now, Jessie is making her supper, one of those aubergine and courgette lasagnas that you make. I think she is a copy cat! (If you’ll excuse the “c” word.)

Don't worry I am fine. 

nite nite, 

Rupert.






A dog for all

Linda and David had to go out, so I spent the day with my friend Jessie, much to her delight. Jessie doesn’t have a dog of her own, so I made sure I showed her what she was missing. She loved having me there so much I confess I blushed when Linda came to collect me and Jessie told her what a marvellous dog I was. Incidentally, I have to add that Linda and David had been to Toulouse for the day but didn’t bring me back a present.

When I was at Jessie’s I hunted truffles and rabbits in her garden and barked to scare away any visitors I didn’t know. (“You don’t live at Jessie’s, so you wouldn’t know her visitors,” said Linda. I suppose she has a point. I hope I didn’t frighten off anyone important. I can be very scary when I try.)

The happiness I brought Jessie made me think that Linda and David could hire me out to unfortunate dogless people (preferably those without cats called Kandy). With the money we make they might even bring me a present the next time they go to Toulouse.

Feeling sheepish

I haven’t quite got over the disappointment of not being taken to audition for the movie that’s going to be filmed here next month. Apparently it’s a Disney production — just imagine the extra money they would have made selling cuddly Ruperts.

But then, the other day, I thought maybe I was in with a chance. The groomer came and gave me a thorough makeover. Linda started calling me a brébis, which I thought was a character in the film. I later found out it means a sheep. But I’m not proud. I’ve had acting lessons as you know, so I could play a sheep as well as the next dog. However, when Linda started laughing, I realised that perhaps I’d looked a bit funny during the grooming session. Linda said she was just laughing affectionately. I’ve included a picture so you can see for yourself. Now, do I really look like a sheep?

All is not lost, though. I’m going to try to persuade her or David to bring me over to where the filming is going on. Then I could escape and run into a scene. They would spot my potential and give me a starring role. Watch out for me at a cinema near you.

A star is missed

I’m a very disappointed poodle. There was great excitement here because the famous Steven Spielberg is directing a film in the area and yesterday anyone could go along and try for a part as an extra. You will all recall that I am a great actor — my interpretation of Pyramus and Thisbee is the stuff of legend. (“Yes, we remember how you confused Thisbee with your Frisbee,” interrupted Linda, but I ignored her.) I could also be very useful to the cast. During one of my drama lessons, our teacher fainted and I licked him back to life, although I thought I heard someone say he was just acting. I disagree.

Anyway, I suggested that Linda put on her best dress and dust off my diamante collar so we could go along to the casting. She wouldn’t go! She said it was because she didn’t want me to be disappointed if I didn’t get a part, but secretly I think she would have been upset if I’d got a part and she didn’t. But couldn’t you just imagine us in a Hollywood film, strolling along the cobbled streets, me wearing my diamante collar and Linda with a jaunty red beret? I bet we would have been invited to the Oscars.

The film is about restaurants.I am a gourmet dog; not only do I go occasionally go to Michelin star restaurants like Le Vieux Pont, I have fresh chicken cooked with herbs de Provence and garlic every day. I would be a natural for this movie. Just the other day my friend Jessie (international food advisor and cook extraordinaire) called by and asked what the wonderful aroma was coming from the kitchen. It was my dinner. I only have the best. Helen Mirren would love me to sit in her restaurant in the film. I could hunt rabbits and truffles for the menu and, with my good looks and charm, act as the Maitre'de. 

If any of the readers could pass this information onto Mr. Speilberg, I would appreciate it and so — I think — would he.

Here's a picture of me looking French.

King Rupert

King Rupert the First. It has a good ring to it, doesn't it? I would be very happy if William and Kate were to name their son after me — I am a caniche royale a royal poodle, after all. 

I think Rupert is a much more regal name than James, George or even William. I have suggested that when Linda and David send off their congratulations card (I think David has gone to buy it at the moment), they include a photo of me. That will certainly convince them that Rupert is the only name to choose. 

I will happily attend the Christening when the time comes, I'm sure Linda will take my diamante collar out of the vault for the occasion.

A hunting I will go

It’s very hot at the moment, but I am a great hunter and great hunters do not spend their time lazing under trees. No, we stalk our prey whatever the weather. I think it’s too warm for truffles to venture out, so I have decided to catch a rabbit or two for David and Linda’s supper.

Linda and I were out for a walk the other morning when I saw a rabbit. I started to chase it — and I have to say it was a very rapid rabbit. Suddenly it disappeared behind a hedge. I couldn’t get to it, so I frightened it so that it ran back towards Linda. I thought she would help me catch it, but she just stood there while I ran up panting. Then, in the confusion, the rabbit escaped.

I saw a deer in the distance and thought about chasing that, but I was a bit too hot and decided to have a drink of water instead.

When I heard that Linda and David were going to visit my friends Doreen and Gavin, I hoped they would take me so that I could chase Kandy the cat to show I’m not scared of her. But they left me at home with nothing to hunt but a Frisbee.