What have the Romans ever done for us?

Another day out at the Open Air Museum

Well, they gave us a pat, although there didn't seem to be any food forthcoming: mind you, they looked a bit short on pockets to keep any treats in. They looked a bit short on hemlines too - it wasn't the warmest day and those skirts definitely looked a bit draughty to us.
But they rattled and clanked around in their armour and obligingly explained about Roman stuff to the Madwoman while we checked out the bits of naked feet we could see through their sandals ... and no, we didn't look up their skirts - we are polite and well-brought up young wippitts!

Thanks for asking ...

Can't say we've exactly been swamped with get well cards, let along get well treats, since Angel's report on her bee-bite ... the blank space above reflects the response - or rather, the total absence of one. Not even so much as an email enquiring how she is ...

The Madwoman seemed to think that taking us for an outing to see the Tudors at the Open Air Museum might cheer us up, so along we went, bright and early. Not much sign of any Tudors initially, then we stumbled across four of them hovering hopefully round a pot suspended over a smoky fire. The only ones we spotted, but then we suppose that after 400 odd years, Tudors are a bit thin on the ground these days. They had a black Labrador with them which was bumbling around loose: not very Tudorish - a brace or two of mastiffs or a couple of handfuls of pocket Beagles would have been more authentic - the Labrador didn't even exist at that time. Unlike visitors, Tudors obviously also have a problem reading the signs at the entrance asking everyone to please keep dogs on a short lead: evidently literacy must have been even worse then than now, although we find it hard to believe ...

Ow

Doing my own first aid

I was running around this morning, chasing after my squeaky stuffed bunny and generally minding my own business when a bee jumped up from the grass and bit me on the leg. I ran back to the Madwoman, shaking my leg and she removed the sting, but it still hurts. She has given me some Apis and bathed it with a cold compress, neither of which are what I want. It hurts! I'm suffering! I need treats!
All expressions of sympathy are welcome, but more importantly, please remember that get-well-soon treats are more crucial to making a speedy recovery.

Bean there, done that

Good ... but not as good as Kongs

Once again the Madwoman has been hogging the computer all week, so we have had no chance to post: the only reason we're on now is because she's otherwise distracted for a few minutes in the kitchen. Baking treats for us? No. Blanching beans or some such nonsense. Apparently the next glut of produce from the allotment is about to be damsons - equally useless as far as we're concerned. In between the jam-making, blanching, preserving and chutneying she's complaining about people who never return jars and as we said before, hogging the computer. But we don't care - we know how to entertain ourselves. We've just played tag round the dining room table and in a minute we're planning to stare at the Madwoman until, overcome with guilt, she gets out a stuffed Kong for us. We know there are a couple of frozen ones in the freezer, so we won't be fobbed off with anything less. Those blue pyramids which you have to bat around to get the treats out of them are alright, but a bit like hard work for what you get out of them. Kongs are much better.

If wippitts could fly ...

Yeah? Come down here and say that!

Have you missed us? The Madwoman has been hogging the computer recently so we haven't had a chance to post a blog for ages ... although we haven't wasted the time either. As well as the usual vole watching (less strenuous in this hot weather than vole hunting, about as productive and just as satisfying) and napping, we have been diligent in keeping the garden free of pigeons. They seem to be particularly brazen and loutish this year; they have been pinching the birdseed the Madwoman puts out for the little brown ones, and have overcome all fear of the things that normally scare them off the allotment. They now have a healthy respect for us though, after a couple of close shaves when they had the nerve to invite themselves into the garden while we were out on cat patrol. Notice how this particularly cowardly one stays out of reach on the roof, taunting Archie from a safe distance.
One day wippitts will learn how to fly, and then they'll be really, really sorry ...

Who needs words?

Sometimes a picture says all that needs to be said.

Posing

All this posing can be absolutely exhausting daaahling ... and even when you're taking a well-earned break you can find a camera being pushed in your face ...

We are wippitts of many skills ... as well as those you've already read about, you can add Posing For The Camera. This is something we've been doing much of lately - hence the paucity of recent blogs. We have been far too busy looking our very best while the Madwoman leaps around clutching a camera and excitedly squeaking things like "Hold it right there!" and "A little more to the left!" While this isn't too bad when you're enjoying a snooze, it's downright inconvenient when you're in mid roll on your back, scratching that itchy place ... Mind you, this posing stuff does have it's good points - plenty of bribery in the form of treats, although we feel it's about time the Madwoman got that last piece of liver bread out of the freezer and started dishing it out.

What's it all in aid of? We did think it might be because the Madwoman is working on a new dog book, but it turns out she's entering us in an online dog show. It's certainly a lot less stressful than going to a real one, so we suppose we should be grateful. If you would like your own Madperson to enter you, then jog over to http://www.sighthoundsonline.org.uk/ where you can check out the rules. It's all in a good cause, although we're hoping we don't win - we believe the prize is a portrait, which would no doubt mean yet more posing ...

Yes, we know

Cute

Cute

People often stop to comment on how cute and sweet we look. It's a talent worth having - it often resuts in food - but it's not one we can teach you. You either got it or you aint.

Type casting

Angel gathers her thoughts together

It has come to our attention that some people think that we don't really write this blog. Don't typecast us simply because we're wippitts: we're just as capable of writing as any other breed, and a lot more capable than most humans. Of course it's difficult for us as we don't have fingers -but a gravy bone clamped firmly between the teeth works just as well when it comes to tapping out a message on a keyboard. It's a good idea to work when you aren't feeling too peckish though, otherwise the temptation to snack on the gravy bone can become too great to resist. But it does explain the brevity, or even the non-existence of some blogs. After all, as people keep telling us, we're only wippitts.

Roll 'em!

Lights! Wippitts! Camera! Action!

It's not true that we spend all our time napping (although we are pretty good at it) and to prove the point we thought we'd post an all-action clip. Careful not to blink though or you might miss it ... not because we're running like the wind (which we are also pretty good at) but because the Madwoman is a bit useless with the camera. We went slowly, to try and be helpful, but to be honest we think the Madwoman is probably beyond help. What we really need to show us at our best is a professional film crew. If you'd like to enlist our services, feel free to enquire, but remember our last post: we don't come for free, or even cheap. We might consider getting out of bed for ten thousand gravy bones a day though. Each.