It's been ages!

Gosh. Mum just found this blog again. It's been ages since I updated it!

What's been going on? Well, I've got another human sibling. This one's called Tess, and while her feet aren't quite as tasty as Romilly's, she's pretty darned good at sneaking fish sticks to me under the dining table. Romilly is almost four now, and that throwing arm is getting good! Balls, sticks, toys - she loves to throw.

I've got a bit older too. I'm eight now. Although pretty much every time we go out, people still ask if I'm a puppy. Sheesh. How much grey hair does a girl need before people realise they're talking to a grown-up?

Mum's got me on a diet so I don't get chubby in my old age. Apparently I'd been eating too much mac'n'cheese. I say there's no such thing as too much mac'n'cheese, but I have to admit I've been getting closer to those pesky squirrels since I stopped eating it.

I went to North Carolina earlier this year, to a place called 'Duck'. Pretty promising name, I thought, but there were only seabirds to chase, and long experience has taught me that they're too fast to catch. Still, I had a great week, haring around on the beach (one of the few beaches in these parts where dogs are allowed), and snoozing on the balcony of our rental house. Bliss.

I've been doing lots of jogging this summer. My favourite route is through the woods by the creek, because we always stop at the end for me to have a swim and cool off. Mum and Dad get really sweaty too, but for some reason they never join me in the water. It's their loss.

That's all really. Life goes on as usual. And I have to say, it's pretty good!

A spot of sightseeing

Hello! Sorry I haven't been blogging recently - mum and Romilly are always on skype with gran and grandad back in the UK, so I haven't been able to get on the computer. Tsk. 

Anyway, today we went down to the National Mall. I was worried it would turn out to be a shopping centre, but no, it's a sort of big old park full of statues and monuments and stuff. 

I was hoping we might run into that nice Mr Obama - am dying to know what breed the First Puppy will be - but no luck. I did find one or two interesting critters, though - and gave this one a run for his money:

But my best discovery of the day was the incomparably scrumptious Hot Dog. Dad didn't want me to try them, because last time I ate something that pink it led to the great Jumping On The Table And Running Amok incident. But I did my best begging pose...

... and mum soon caved. Hah! Delicious! 

Baby lessons

So, Romilly has been part of my pack for 11 weeks now, and she and I are learning a lot from one another. So far, I have taught her that:

1. A happy life is one in which time is divided between eating, playing and snoozing. 

2. There is no such thing as getting too much attention. 

3. Making lots of noise is a good way to attract said attention. 

I have to say that she's outclassed me already when it comes to lesson 3. Boy, can she make a lot of noise! And with consistently excellent results - mum and dad are there in a flash! I must study her technique. But I'm also learning from her. So far, I have learnt that:

1. Milk is the best food. Romilly gets fed first, but she's very generous in directing any excess towards the floor for me. 

2. Cuddles are great. I've never been a cuddly sort of dog, but watching her spend so much time on mum's lap, I've realised what I've been missing out on. 

I'm sure we have plenty more to teach each other. I'll keep you posted. 

Elfin marvellous

Oh, the humiliation. The pictures say it all.

I much prefer being a big sister than being an elf.

a BIG surprise!

Mum and dad have been muttering for ages about me getting a new brother or sister. Fantastic, I thought, picturing me and V2 romping in the garden, curling up on the sofa, wrestling over sticks, and all that good stuff. 

Turns out that wasn't quite what they meant. 

Instead of a Vizsla sibling, I've got a human sibling! Her name's Romilly, and she arrived some time last week while I was away on my holidays. Can't turn my back for a minute. Anyway, this is her:

At first I was a little bit upset. But I've given the matter some thought, and decided she has her good points:

 - she smells really interesting 

 - and she can do lots of 'special effect' smells

 - her feet taste a lot like dad's - and his are just the tastiest! 

 - she's pretty small right now, but if I'm not mistaken has the promise of a great 'stick' arm

 - mum gets 10 months off work to look after her. Which means 10 months with me, too!

Oh yeah, and she makes mum and dad really really happy. Which makes me happy too.

So I say welcome to my pack, little Romilly person. Please can we be friends? 

Shoes? Really?

Something bizarre has happened over the last week. Mum and dad have bought me... some shoes. What do I want them for? It's almost as bad a present as the time dad bought me bath soap. I mean, I know I'm a girl, and human girls are really into shoes, but honestly. 

As shoes go, I suppose they're not too bad. Not like those high heeled things mum wears sometimes. They've got comfy elasticated cuffs, and suede soles, and reflective velcro fasteners. And I only have to wear one of them, not all four. But it's rubbish cos it stops me getting at the cut on my paw, which is quite sore and badly in need of a good licking. 

Anyone else ever had to wear them? And more importantly, anyone got any good tips for getting them off?

God Bless America!

Today is a very proud day for me. 

You see, I'm a proper pedigree hound. O yes. This blog, I believe, provides ample evidence of the ancient bloodlines, the proud pose, the archetypal combination of keen hunting instinct and lovingly velcro-esque family dog. 

But I was born in France, and registered there, and when I asked if I could join the snooty old English Kennel Club they said 'non'. Quelle horreur! 

Here in America, though, the land of opportunity, liberty and justice, I have been welcomed with open arms into the American Kennel Club. Hurray! I'm an American Citizen! 

Privileges revoked

Hmmm. So, after my world class stealth demonstration last week, in which I managed to sneak onto the bed without waking mum, this week dad is back and bed privileges have been firmly revoked. S'rubbish. 

Am thinking of starting a union to lobby for Vizsla rights. After all, I'm a hard working family dog. It's only right that I should be allowed to rest in comfort after a strenuous day of fetching sticks, finishing off leftovers, licking feet, giving out cuddles, and following my family lovingly from room to room. 

What d'you think? Anyone want to join? 

Shhh, don't tell dad!

He's away this week - more 'business' to do back in London. Dunno why he has to go so far - I just go in the woods...

But anyway, after weeks of trying and failing, last night I managed to sneak onto mum's bed without waking her up! It was soooooo comfy and warm, and I snuggled up right in the crook of her knees. Bliss! 

Mum says it's not going to happen again, but we'll see. I'll keep you posted...

Messing about on the river

Ok, so it's not actually a river, it's the Chesapeake Bay at Quiet Waters, near Annapolis. And it's my bestest new place - the dog beach! Not sure you can quite see on this picture (mum's not exactly David Bailey) but there are about thirty dogs there, all having a fantastic time. 

Including me!

And if this is my bestest new place, my bestest new toy is Mr Duck. He flies (see below). He floats. He squeaks. He's chewy. What more could a dog ask of a toy? 

So needless to say, when a few of the locals took a shine to Mr Duck as well, it was time for a bit of friendly competition. I'm happy to say that with my superior doggy paddle and almost Phelpsian physique I was easily able to hold those pesky labradors at bay. 

Go team GB! 

beach bum

Mum and dad took me to the beach on Saturday, and it was awesome! It was a dog beach. That's right, guys, a whole beach just for dogs! It was a gorgeous hot sunny day, perfect for bounding through the surf, and some strenuous doggy paddle. Needless to say I rose to the occasion magnificently.

First I swam for my ball, until it got a hole in it and sank. Next I swam for sticks. And more sticks. And some more. Then I played with some other dogs for a bit. And then I swam for my favourite floating duck toy.

And then... I slept all afternoon on the sofa. Mum and dad were so impressed with how tired I was that we're going again next weekend. With a picnic! Hurray!

Humans call it Quiet Waters Park, near Annapolis. I call it Vizsla heaven.

Phew!

Mum and dad got home today after a week away. I was a bit worried cos they left met at home. Literally. Not on my own, obviously. They know I'm not very good at cooking, or at door handles. Or at being on my own, for that matter. So one of my dog walkers came to stay with me. I wasn't very sure about him being here at first, but after a few days I decided he should join my pack - and soon had him twisted round my little finger. He wound up letting me sleep on the bed and everything. Ha! 

I got some good presents, too. Dad got me a stars and stripes bandana so I can blend in at the dog park. Very fetching. And mum got me a cookie cutter in the shape of a bone. No cookies yet, but hopefully soon. If anyone knows any yummy dog biscuit recipes, please pass them on! I also got some soap. I think this is of dubious merit as a gift, but dad says it keeps bugs off (it's made with something called citronella) so I guess I'll give it a chance. 

They also told me that next time they go on vacation I might be allowed to go with them. They thought it would be difficult finding places where I'm allowed, but apparently everywhere around the Chesapeake seems to be really dog friendly. In North Carolina, I'm even allowed on the beach. Woo hoo! 

Am off for some quality cuddles on the sofa. Then I'm gonna see if I can persuade mum and dad to carry on the fine new tradition of letting me sleep on the bed. Fingers crossed...

Am I being silly?

Mum and dad are getting a tiny bit annoyed with me at the moment. You see, when they go out to work (to earn money to buy pigs ears for me), they leave me behind, so they get someone else to come and play with me at lunchtime. I get lots of attention when they're home, a nice long walk in the morning, and another in the evening, as well as playtime in the middle of the day. They've done this ever since I was small, and although I much prefer weekends, I'm usually quite happy. 

The last few days, though, have been a bit different. Dad arrived in America for good at the weekend, and I was really really really pleased to see him (I gave him my best wagging and wiggling and bowing routine). He doesn't have to go to work at the moment, so he's been at home with me quite a lot. 

Thing is, when he's here, I'd rather be with him than with my playtime person. So I've been refusing to go with them. I mean, no offence, but dad's ears are the tastiest in the world, and he's super good at throwing sticks, and he's great for sharing a sofa with. Playtime person just can't compare. 

For some reason this makes mum and dad cross. They think I should go with playtime person and enjoy myself. I say I'm a traditional velcro Vizsla and they should know better! 

What d'you think? Am I being silly? Or are they?

Lazy days of summer

Hi all. Sorry I haven't been very good at writing my blog recently - I've been a bit busy. Like I explained last time, there are lots of critters to keep an eye on in our new garden. Don't want those squirrels getting ideas above their station. 

And I've been going to my favourite water hole in the woods most days. First I learnt to dive in to fetch sticks...

... and now I've progressed a bit and I'm starting to practice walking on water. They say it can't be done, but I'm determined to prove them wrong. If only I can get my legs to go fast enough!

Oh yes, and there's always plenty of lounging to be done. Mum says I can be quite decorative when I want to be. All I know is this new sheepskin thing is darned comfy. Zzzzzzzz.

Neighbours

So, as if moving from London to Washington wasn't enough, we've now moved house again. Mum says we're staying put this time, though. Fingers crossed, because I like this place a lot. There's a creek right across the street where I can paddle. And a forest at the end of the block with a pool where I get to go swimming most days. I'm also meeting lots of new neighbours. In our back garden, we have:

 Deer, like Bambi's mum

Baby deer, like Bambi

Racoons, who look like cartoon bank robbers

Foxes, just like in London, only cleaner

Fireflies, which are confusing cos they disappear just as I get close

Chipmunks (but sadly not the singing kind)

Black squirrels

Grey squirrels (a bit dull after the others, but still good to chase)

Hopefully I'll get some photos of them soon. Mum says they're a bit elusive, but she'll keep trying. 

A watery weekend

Hi y'all. Do I sound American yet? I'm trying. 

I'm also doing some exploring, in the manner of a Hungarian Columbus. This weekend I discovered the Potomac River, at a place called Great Falls. 

And inspired by Buster B. Brown, the renowned canine scientist and investigator, I conducted an experiment to confirm that water does in fact have the same buoyancy in America as in Britain. Evidently there was some doubt about this, as I wasn't allowed off my lead. All the better for pulling dad in to join me for a swim... 

My next discovery took place on the banks of another of America's fine rivers, the Shenandoah. Here I unearthed what I think must surely have been The Biggest Stick In The World, and persuaded mum to throw it for me. I will be submitting photographic evidence to the Guinness Book of Records, and fully expect to be published as a record breaker in due course.  

All in all, a highly satisfactory weekend! 

I made it!

I made it to America! As Charlie Morph says, I'm a transatlantic Vizsla. Probably there aren't very many of us. We should form a club or something. 

The flight wasn't really my cup of tea, but it wasn't too bad. I got picked up the day before and spent the night in kennels (boo) but then when it was time to get on the plane I got my very own specially made compartment with food and water and my favourite blanket. And when I got off at the other end - mum and dad were there to meet me! Yeay! I had intended to sulk for a bit, but in the end I forgave them pretty much straight away, and did my best bowing and bouncing combination to remind them how great I am. 

And so far, America is pretty great too. I live right on the edge of a fab park that has not one, not two, but three types of squirrels in it. Everyone thinks I'm really pretty, and loves my English accent - especially the other Vizsla's who live nearby. And this weekend was a holiday, so we went to West Virginia to stay in a cabin on the banks of the Cheat River. Wish I had some pictures, but mum's camera broke...

Hi everyone

I've had a really confusing couple of months. You see, my mum has moved to America. And she's left me and dad behind! It's rubbish! Don't get me wrong, dad's great - his ears are just the best for chewing on, and he throws a mean stick - but one dog plus one human doesn't really make much of a pack. And dad's been away quite a lot too, visiting mum, so I've been staying with my friend Michael. 

Anyway, this week is a really big week for me cos I'm moving to America too. Gulp. I get picked up by some people on Thursday, then on Friday they put me on a plane to fly to Washington DC. Dad's told me that he'll be on the flight too, but he gets a big old comfy seat while I get stuck in a crate with nothing but my favourite blanket for comfort. It's a dog's life alright. 

So on the one hand I'm really really excited about seeing mum again. But on the other hand, I'm really scared about this flying business. I'll let you know how I get on... 

And to all you Vizslas in America - here I come! 

The more it snows, tiddley pom

Wow, I love Easter. Five whole days with my folks! Friday we went to Norfolk, to visit Grandma. She's got a great house with a big garden, and she likes me a lot so I always get plenty of leftovers. This time we had fish and chips, and I got a battered sausage all to myself. Pretty good going. 

After Norfolk, we went up to Middlesbrough. People say it's grim up north, but boy are they wrong! We stopped off in Ilkley, and went up on the moors to stretch our legs. Dad tried to get me to swim in one of the tarns, but even I don't like water that much. It was freezing! Then on to stay with my other Gran and Grandad. They made me pheasant pie (no, really), and took me to the seaside for the longest game of ball ever.  They weren't very sure about me when they first met me three years ago, but these days they like to tickle my tummy while I lie on my back on their sofa. Ha! 

Best of all, it snowed while we were there. So on Sunday morning we went for a walk in the woods in the snow. Snow is my favourite thing. I especially like snuffling around for smelly things that are hidden underneath it, and then snorting like a horse to get it out of my nose. Snowballs, though, are a puzzle. When they've been thrown, where do they go? Huh? Huh?

 

Time flies. But I'm not sure I want to...

Hi everyone. Blimey this year's going quickly. I've been really busy - checking out different vintages of fox poo on Wimbledon Common, trying to resist the urge to chase the deer at Richmond (mum thinks I'm getting better, but I'm just lulling her into a false sense of security...), giving squirrel stalking displays to Japanese tourists in Hyde Park, and generally being a top dog about town. 

Oh yeah, and I spent three not-so-busy weeks in February being 'in season'. Glad that only comes round once a year. It's so tedious! Wouldn't be so bad if I was allowed a boyfriend, but no, I have to stay home, stay on my lead, and stay away from the boys. Apparently things might be different next year... 

We've got some quite exciting news as well. Or at least, I think it's exciting. We're moving to America for a while! Mum's got a new job over there, in Washington DC, so come the summer I'll have a whole new continent to explore. Hopefully I'll get to meet some American Vizslas. I've heard they tend to be a bit smaller than British ones, which is good cos it means people might stop mistaking me for a puppy. It's getting kind of embarrassing now I'm three and a half. I'm a bit worried about how I get there, though. It would be a pretty long way to walk, so dad says I've got to fly. But I don't like the sound of that. I mean, I'm not a bird, am I? So if anyone out there has flown before, and has any tips, please let me know...