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...