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Names, apples, fences, tape-worms and more apples.

Hello, Bertie Baggins here. Yes, the small, yellow one, nephew and self-appointed tormentor-in-chief of Four-legged-friend.

It's been a bit quiet on this blog recently due to Herbie's general rushed-off-her-feetedness so I thought I'd stand in and take a turn - share with you some of my observations on a dog's life and tell you a bit of what I have been doing. And shouldn't have been doing.

Before I start, I think I should share with you the history of my name. After all, you are reading this, so it is only fair that you have a clear understanding of exactly who I am:

Bertie stems from Gilbert. In keeping with my uncle, the afore-mentioned Four-legged-friend, otherwise known as M ... oops! He likes to keep his name out of this blog. Perhaps in case something embarrassing is written about him. Me ... I don't care. What could I possibly do that I would be embarrassed about? I'm a dog! Anyway, Four-legged-friend and me are named after Scottish Saints. Saints! Old guys who did something deemed to be worthy, once upon a time, in the very distant past, probably half-way up a midge-ridden mountain, knee-deep in a bog and with a gentle drizzle slowly soaking their saintly rags. Maybe it was hoped that some saintliness would rub off on us.

Hmmm ... I don't think it has.

I answer (sometimes ... occasionally ... okay - seldom or only when feeling saintly) to lots of other names:

  • 'Bertie Baggins' - the Baggins is apparently something to do with where I came from. Or a hobbit.
  • 'Boys!' - this is what it sounds like when humans bark.
  • 'Get out! - I'm not sure if that one is a name but I get called it a lot when I sneak up to the kitchen table, especially when it's laden with food. It's usually accompanied by a finger that points to where I have to go. 
  • 'Get down!' is another one with hand signals that confuses me. 
  • 'No!' is perhaps my nick name. If nick-names are the most frequent name after your actual name. It's short and I like it. I tend to stick around when it's said. That way I usually hear it again.
  • Four-legged-friend gets called 'Good boy' much more than I do. I'm pretty certain that one is a name. Maybe it's his nick-name. 
  • And I quite often get 'BURR-TEEE!!!!' when I have been gorging myself on apples.The hand signals with that one are very impressive. They whiz past your ear and fly around dangerously!
And whilst on the subject of apples - these are mine

Could someone explain why it has become so impossible to help one-in-a-permanent-state-of-tummy-rumbliness-self to these hard green and bitter balls of tongue-tingly crunchiness? A couple of weeks ago it was 'here we grow help yourself.' 

So us 'Boys!' did.

Now there's a fence!

In fact it's a constantly changing fence. It started off all easy-to-push-yourself-through stringy, which later sprouted silver discs that were meant to blind the apple thieves - which would have been good if they had, because I certainly don't want anyone stealing my apples. I didn't mind the CDs and sometimes jumped in to 'stock-take' -

Mum helped me to hop back out several times, using that 'No!' name that I like so much. She sometimes forgot that she wasn't in the kitchen and called me 'Out!' too. But then the 'BURR-TEEE!!!' naming started. And the fence stopped being made of string and was built of chicken-wire instead. 

Chicken-wire is sharp and scratchy particularly if it catches on sensitive places, but it can be squashed if jumped on and straddled with a hungry tummy. It stopped being squashy however when it was reinforced with bamboo canes. Which was most inconsiderate.

Hurrumph ... if I can't get at them, I hope that pesky apple thief can't take them either!

... do I have to tell you about my tape-worm or can that keep for another blog? I'm having much more fun writing about apples.


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