I'm not a working dog

It’s amazing that in this day and age, there are dogs who still have to work for a living. I understand that some have a vocation, like guide dogs, and others are born into their roles, like sheepdogs, but personally, I draw the line at menial tasks. As regular readers know, I have tried to help out in the past, but decided truffle hunting was not for me — they were just too quick for me to catch.

Take Twister. He’s a friend of a friend. He likes to pretend he’s a guard dog — that’s OK, I do that too. We both give a few barks at the postman to show him who’s boss. But Twister actually goes and fetches the post too! Can you believe that? I didn’t think it could possibly be true, then one of my informants sent me a photo. There’s no doubt about it — Twister definitely has the weekly advertising circulars in his mouth. There’s no excuse for it, unless there’s a special offer on dog biscuits at Lidl and he’s bringing it to his humans’ attention. Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case. “He’s trying to be helpful,” said Linda. Perhaps. But I think it’s a step too far. Next thing you know, they’ll be sending me off to get the bread and croissants. Besides, if we dogs did all the work, what would our humans do? They like to keep busy and I know Linda and David really enjoy cooking me tasty meals, brushing me, taking me for a walk, playing with me and generally making me happy.

Needless to say, I also send my humans to fetch the post. I watch them carefully, though, in case there’s a large parcel. Large parcels are usually addressed to me. They generally come from Victoria, who sends me nice gifts from England. If Linda or David bring in a large parcel, I have to sniff it carefully to check whether it’s from Victoria. If it’s not, I let them open it themselves as it’s likely to be something quite boring.

I’m now going to go and have a serious woof with Twister. He’s giving us dogs a bad name. (I've included his photo so you can recognise him.)

Good news about Kostas

I'm sure all my readers will be pleased to know that Kostas (the second cutest dog in the area) has found a new home with some delightful people near Caylus.  They have horses, cats and a Bernese Mountain Dog so he won’t be wanting for company.  I hope we'll be able to meet up one day.

I entertain my friends

I do enjoy entertaining. It’s lovely when my friends come round for lunch or supper — it does Linda and David good to socialize too. The problem is, these occasions can get quite boring. I always make a point of going to greet my guests when they arrive, and they all make a great fuss of me — as is to be expected. But once they’ve had a glass of wine and a few peanuts, they often forget I’m there. They’ve been known to step over me when they leave the room without acknowledging me. I think I’ve even heard people mutter, “Rupert, will you please move out of the way,” but maybe I was dreaming.

They talk about such tedious topics too. I confess I’m getting fed up with their fixation about art. Some lovely people came to visit at the weekend and the same old subject came up. Tell me, how can a book about black and white drawings generate so much interest? I must tell Linda never to buy me a plain bandana, though, even if there are 50 shades of grey to choose from. Give me red and white spots any day.

I try to steer the conversation around to dogs, but the humans’ attention span is not good and they veer off onto other subjects. What did they talk about the other day? Chickens! Donkeys! Shopping! Men cycling around France! And food. They can spend a long time discussing food. At our last lunch, I feasted on some delicious liver while they had to make do with duck and a fancy sauce.  Some of the guests even asked for the duck recipe. This was rather shortsighted of them — they might need to practice cooking the liver dish before my next visit to them. I confess, though, that I was a little jealous of the lovely cake my friend Glynis made for the occasion. I think I might ask her to make one for me for my birthday of a poodle wearing a colourful bandana. I’m sure she’ll be able to include liver or steak in it somehow

I have a busy week

It’s been a busy week. It was the monthly quiz a few days ago. It’s always difficult because everyone wants me on their team. There weren’t enough doggie questions, though. Of course, the one asking what kind of dog detective Colombo had was easy for me. Although I think he would have been better with a poodle, he actually had a Bassett Hound. How many of you knew that? I may volunteer to set the questions next time.

Then Linda went off to a discussion group where they talked about superstitions. (I think this was because it was Friday the 13^th.) She came back and said that they hadn’t mentioned dogs at all. (Well, she did tell everyone about my blog and apparently someone said my ghost writer should get out more. I’m not sure what they meant by that.) So I googled some doggie superstitions for you, and here they are:

1. If you scratch a dog before you go job-hunting, you’ll get a good job.

2. A strange dog walking into your house portends a new friendship.

3. Meeting a dog – especially a Dalmatian – is considered good luck.

4. A dog eating grass means it will rain soon.

5. If you see three white dogs together at the same time, you will have good luck.

If anyone is going for a job, you are welcome to come and scratch me beforehand. I draw the line at going into any unknown houses, though, you don’t know who you might meet. (Anyway, I’m not a strange dog, I’m perfectly normal!) And I think there’s a mistake in number 3 —  somehow Dalmatian has been typed instead of poodle.

I promise not to eat any more grass. Linda is always telling me to stop munching it. You don’t think I’m responsible for all the rain we’ve had this year, do you? Perhaps I’d better stick to steak.

PS: I’ve also heard that people are superstitious about black cats. That Kandy had better watch out.

I'm amazed

I had a bit of spare time today, so I asked David to have a look at some of the statistics on my blog. I was amazed to find that very nearly one thousand people have read it so far. Thank you! I never dreamed that the musings of this humble poodle in France would attract so much attention.

As one would expect, the majority of my readers are in France. These are followed by those from English-speaking countries. (Today, though, only one from Australia and none from New Zealand. They do bark a kind of English there, don’t they?)

The big surprise was the number (23) from Russia. I never dreamed that I’d be popular there. Do you think it’s the KGB following my blog? Or perhaps Mr. Putin wants to get a better insight into canine thinking in the West? In any case, they’re more than welcome. I’d love to hear come comments on a dog’s life in Russia.

Another surprise was that I have a reader in Iran. Maybe it’s their President; he of the unpronounceable name. It would be wonderful if my blog could help foster better understanding between the East and West. I’ve said it before: “Dogs of the World unite – in peace!”

I’ve also had some lovely comments on the blog; they’ve all been published for you to read. Please, please keep them coming.

Well, it’s a warm afternoon, Linda is off solving the world’s problems at a ladies’ lunch and David is tired of taking dictation so he and I are going to have a much needed nap.

Barks and woofs to all.

Rupert

I get a makeover

Good grooming shows. It takes a lot of hard work to look this handsome all the time. I couldn’t manage it without the help of my friends at Funky Toilettage. It’s an interesting shop, about 40 minutes away in Villefranche. It sells toys and treats and even has some friendly dogs to socialise with — some of them look almost as good as me. I confess, though, that I wish it had a more upmarket name. It probably sounds better when you say it in French than bark it in English. Still, I go there every five weeks or so and suffer in silence while they give me a makeover. My personal groomer is really nice. She takes a lot of care and about 4 hours to make sure I leave looking my best. I like her a lot, but once I’ve greeted her I’d just as soon leave because I know that I’ll have to be good and stand really still for the next few hours. Ah, the things we do for our public!

Let me explain. We poodles don’t have normal dog hair. Our “hair” is much more like fine wool than anything else. This has its advantages; we don’t shed, we don’t smell bad and our coat protects us from cold and water very well. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it just keeps growing, so if we don’t go for toilettage regulary, it gets too long and is hard to manage. Then we end up having some really bad hair days.

Perhaps you’ve seen my relatives who are groomed for dog shows? Custom and the rules mean they have to have silly looking haircuts. Poor things. I’m more than happy with my “town and country” cut. It looks good and is very chic and practical.  

Linda told me that it costs more for my grooming than hers. Between us, I have to say that it shows. It’s not that Linda doesn’t look good — she looks lovely most of the time. I just think that she would benefit from a few sessions at Funky Toilettage herself.

I’m quite a natty dresser too. I have a spotted bandana and an American-themed one I wear on Independence Day to please David. Linda prefers me in my diamante collar, but I think it’s a bit too much for a trip to the local bar. I get the impression the village dogs find my collar amusing, but I rise above it and let Linda deal with them.

It’s quite hot here at the moment, so I’m going to ask David to lend me a sunhat. I did hear someone say that I could wear a knotted handkerchief instead. I have just two things to say to that: (1) Only common dogs would wear such a thing — I wouldn’t consider it, even if you offered me a hanky with an R embroidered on it. (2) We are in the South of France, not Blackpool.

David and Linda kindly took some pictures so you can see just how good I look. You can see how worn out I was by it all in one of the photos. I’m wearing the diamante R on my collar just for you.

I want to help Kostas

Now, I had a pretty bad weekend. Linda and David were off gallivanting at a wedding and then a tennis party, so I was left alone. That wasn’t much fun, especially as I’d just come back from a session at Funky Toilettage (more about that later), so was looking my best. I really don’t know why I wasn’t invited. They would have ended up with some really good wedding photos. I hope your weekend was better.

But as bad as my weekend was, I’m now going to tell you about a little dog who deserves some great weekends. Kostas was found by some dustbins in Greece. He was rescued by some very kind people and brought to France at great expense (that’s how he got his name). He’s been neutered, micro-chipped, jabbed and passported and is all ready to go to a new home because the kind people who brought him back can’t keep him as they already have three dogs. He’s only four months old, so can anyone help find him some forever humans? Here’s his photo. Doesn’t he look cute? (But not as cute as me, of course.) Oh, I understand that his English is pretty good and he's started to learn some French too.

If you can help, contact Victoria China on vikkichina@gmail.com