What do Tealeafs do all day?

Well - mostly I sofa-surf and try to filch the other dogs' food. Oh, and bark at pheasants. I SAID PHEASANTS! But the highlight of the day has to be the evening walk.

Now that the humans have messed about with time again and adjusted the sun, I can actually SEE who I am chasing.

Also, since my mate Jackson (aka "the wrinkly dwarf") was shipped out, I now play with dogs who give me a leg stretch. Don't get me wrong though, Jackson was much more fun to play with, treading on his ears was great sport.

Boots used to be fast, but he's no spring chicken any more (he's not a rubber chicken either - with or without bikini - but that's another story).


"Your powers are weak - old man"

So how about a bit of synchronised cornering... a new Olympic sport methinks?


Having worn out Boots, I then still have the energy to harrass Cleo. Though she's still a bit fast for me....



"looks like a fish, moves like a fish, steers like a cow"


After all that energetic lurcher sprinting, there is nothing more to do that work on the perfect lurcher roach until my lurcher dinner arrives...

Dog Jobs

QB Doo calling,

I had a lie-in on Sunday until such time as the alpha-B came back upstairs with coffee (she had left the hall door open - so I just HAD to check, really).




Sometimes though, when I'm not lying in bed, I have to earn my keep:

I can be called upon to verify the dogfather's driving...



... he can nearly drive in a straight line when I rest my tired head on his shoulder.


... and I'm often called upon to act as the guardian of the household - especially when dangerous shadows appear...

Hello, I am Cleo.

Hello, I am Cleo the lurcher. I've been here longer than all the other dogs except the slinky black one, Boots.

I have the coldest, wettest nose known to dog kind, or more importantly, human kind (you know - those two legged jobbies that dish out food). When skillfully applied this is a particularily useful tool for making people tip cups of tea and coffee over themselves.



P.s. I'm very very fast.
P.P.s I'm in charge (after Alpha-B).
P.P.P.s I'm not allowed to chase the cat.

Rumours of my early demise

Were much exaggerated so dinnae fash yoursel' (I'm a SCOTTISH Deerhound, you see). It's true I'm not quite a sprightly as I once was, but at 15 what do you expect from a Deerhound?

As long as there is fish pie to be stolen, I think I will hang around and sofa surf a little longer.



Anyway, since the wrinkly dwarf was shipped off to a penal colony , we've not been doing much blogging, but he seems to be having quite a lot of fun doing it, so we thought it was time us proper dogs should become "blogging dogs".

Of course as matriarch of the household I will need to keep those other dogs in line, they do have some funny ideas.