The day the earth moved

We experienced our first earthquake yesterday. At first I thought Dad had farted, but then I remembered he was up north working.

It freaked me out, so I had to chew Mum and Dad’s skip caps – well, unless you work in Burger King, wearing a skip cap in your 40s is really naff so I’ve done them a favour really. It was Dad’s favourite North Face cap which he had to buy after I chewed the last one, so I expect to experience a volcano as well when he gets back.

No doubt he’ll be threatening us with the crate again.

Apparently New Zealand is called the Shakey Isles. Rudy started singing ‘This Ol House…’ but I had no idea what he was on about. He shares Mum’s taste in music and although Dad has told me to chew her Ipod, I’m not that brave.

I chewed the hats because Mum had ran out of dog chews so what does she expect me to do…gnaw on Rudy? I have tried, but he tastes like he smells. The woman has nothing better to do, so there is no excuse for running out of dog supplies.

She said it was the first time the earth had moved for her in a long time. I just laughed along with her, but I had no idea what she was talking about either. Her and Rudy were made for each other.

Check out www.gundogblog.net for more of my patter.

Feathered ninjas

Otto’s Blog – June 1

So, another day, another run along the beach. Me and Rudy were having a right laugh. I had a good roll about on a dead seagull, dined on some rotten seafood, then lapped up some dog sick until She Who Should Probably Be Obeyed bellowed “Leave It” so loudly that all the dogs within 5k dropped whatever they were doing.

Rudy was desperately hunting for a shag (you wouldn’t find that funny if you were neutered) so I decided to help him even though I know that birds that can swim AND fly are only catchable if they’re dead. He never stops trying though.

Then I saw them. The Three Swans of the Apocalypse.

I had hoped that a change of continent and hemisphere would mean I’d never have to see those feathered fiends again, let alone Black Ninja Swans with beaks bloody red from pecking dogs’ eyes out.

Oh my Dog. I almost jumped out of my skin. I haven’t been that scared since…well since I got my butt kicked by a swan.

I scarpered and hid behind a bush. Rudy waded out to have a go, but even Jack the Ripper of the bird world turned tail and ran when they started to glide towards him full of evil feathered menace.

Is nowhere safe? Bang goes my dream of taking up watersports!

Heaven on earth

Apologies for not updating you sooner on my situation, but I’ve been having too much fun. Eventually.

When I was forced into a big wooden box, I must admit it didn’t look good. We were placed somewhere dark and noisy for 30 hours and I did wonder if we were off to the big field in the sky to live with Dog. I couldn’t see Rudy, but I can always smell him so I knew he was there too.

Dazed and confused – and not to mention starving – I was eventually let out of the box and taken out for a pee. Dog only knows where I was, but it sure smelled funny.

Then I heard a voice: “Hello Otto.” At first, I thought it was an angel but it only turned out to be my Mum. I didn’t know whether to kiss her or bite her for leaving me.

She seem so pleased to see me that I couldn’t stay mad with her.  

Turns out we’ve moved to New Zealand, which is about as far away from Lanarkshire as you can get without going into space.

And so far, I have to say the weeks of anguish were worth it. The wide open spaces, the water, the sunshine, the lack of broken Buckie bottles…I love it.

Rudy has heard there are birds with no wings here – sounds like we really are in Heaven after all.

Free the Lanarkshire one!

Otto’s Blog (www.gundogblog.net)

Help me! I’ve been collared and I’m stuck in the Chokey on a long stretch, but I’m an innocent dog. I didn’t touch those chickens and that duck. It’s a miscarriage of justice. My only crime is being related to the real murderer!

I can’t get a lawyer because apparently dogs have no rights. We’ll see about that. My mum has been phoning me according to the prison warder (who’s actually very nice), but they won’t let me talk to her. And now there is talk of deportation! 

To make matters worse, they have stuck me in the same cell as the murderous little swine and the Chokey is set beside a lake. With lots of ducks. I think they’re trying to break him, but they don’t know him. He never gives up whether it’s trying to get on the sofa, sneaking under the duvet, stealing my tea, bird murder…

I had an inkling something was going on, but Mum found the knife and screwdriver I’d hidden in my bed. Even if we did break out, I know we’re not in Lanarkshire because I haven’t seen a single Buckie bottle and they talk posh.

The warder says we’ll be out soon, but I have seen them working on the big wooden box and heard them say we’re going up into the sky! Help! If I get out of here in one piece, I will be a reformed character. I will never go near another bird in my life! I’ll even volunteer with the RSPB.

In the meantime, I’m teaching myself the law. I’ve seen the Shawshank Redemption…

Fowl play

Otto’s Blog (gundogblog.net)

Sorry you haven’t heard from me for a while, but I’ve been looking after Mum who’s had one lurgy after the other. So, of course, me and Rudy had to lie on the bed beside her to keep her cosy. Rudy took it too far as usual and dived under the duvet.

She had Shingles. Rudy thought she said Pringles and got very excited.

I think the wedding stressed her out. Still, at least her and Dad are married, and me and Rudy are now legitimate. Although I told Rudy he’ll always be a little b-word as far as I’m concerned. As do the local owners of our feathered friends.

He murdered two chickens in cold blood. Next door’s duck also died in mysterious circumstances. I was there, but I’m not saying what happened. I’m no stool pigeon – just as well as the little b-word would have me as well.

Mum tars me with the same brush and shouts at me if I so much as look at the ducks. I might look like a gangster, but there is only one maniac in this family. As you know, I took on a bird and lost. The honking haunts my dreams.

We should have known what he’d be like when he rolled a sheep down a hill when he was eight months old (the sheep was ok). He’s a fiend! Mum plans to take him to proper gundog training to try to teach him some restraint. I suggest a muzzle.

Always the bridesmaids…

Otto’s Dog Blog – February 11

Mum and Dad are getting married next weekend and we’re not invited. Instead we’re off to the chokey. What a flippin insult – they are inviting people they barely know in comparison to us. 

Apparently it’s because we can’t be trusted not to dive in the duck pond and cover the bride in mud and slavers. Who does she think she’s kidding? The woman’s wearing ivory for Dog’s sake; you’d think she’d be more self aware at her age. Doesn’t she know that her own guests are taking bets on how long it will take her to a) fall over b) spill something on her dress c) rip it.

Stick a swan on the pond and you’ll not get me anywhere near it!

We also couldn’t be trusted not to nick the wedding cake but that’s a fair point. You have heard about us and the trifle.

I had visions of being the best dog, and Rudy’s very upset at not being bridesmaid. I could do a much better job than that half man, half mattress Dad’s chosen as his “best” man. I spent my first two years allegedly being looked after by him . All he did was teach me how to sleep. I wouldn’t trust him with my nylabone, never mind the rings.

I could just picture Rudy in a tiara, and he does like women’s underwear. Just ask the real bridesmaid who lost her knickers last time she was here. I ran off with them, but Rudy got the blame haha. I’m such a ladies man.

Well I hope they enjoy their day without us. I’m going to look particularly doleful next week – and I am an expert at it. It makes them feel guilty every time. Actually, I don’t really fancy all the palaver because it would have involved a bath (shudder)but I reckon I’ll get a few hours on the couch if I milk not being part of their big day.

A doggy disgrace

Grin and bear it

Otto’s Dog Blog – January 31

The Rudester has recovered from his operation. He’s still not allowed out unless he’s on the lead and whines his face off when I get to go out for a run and he doesn’t. Haha.

Mind you, I’ll be laughing on the other side of my face tomorrow as I have to get one of my big canine teeth removed and a fake tooth put in its place. Ooyah.

I’m not telling anyone how I did it.

I’m going to ask the dentist for a gold tooth so I can look like a gangster and impress the bitches. I’ve got the scar above my eye, so I reckon I’d look pretty scary with a glistening grin.  Rudy reckons I’ll look more like Dr Teeth from the Muppet Band.

It’s just as well I’m insured or the tooth wouldn’t be replaced and I’d be left with a mangled face. Rudy has already been calling me the Elephant Man. He’s very brave when he’s on the lead attached to Mum.   

Still, look on the bright side. I’ll not be able to eat solid food, so I’ll be getting Chappie. And you know how much I love my Chappie.

Paws crossed that the Dentist does the business and I remain as handsome as ever.

A muppet or a gangster?

Operation Rudy

Otto’s Dog Blog – January 19

Rudy had to have an operation. I hoped it was on his brain to give him a personality, but no it was to his tummy.

A few months back his tummy blew up like a balloon. I thought he’d eaten a football – let’s face it, he’s that greedy it’s perfectly feasible. This is a dog who licks the dishtowels; knocks over the birdtable to eat seeds; and eats fluff! Dad’s greatest fear is popping his clogs with only Rudy in the room – all that would be left was bones.

Apparently the little blighter suffered an episode of bloat. He was rushed to doggie A&E and was about to go under the knife when he barfed up three days worth of food. He’ll do anything for Mum’s attention. Bloat is quite serious for dogs like us – apparently your stomach blows up like a balloon, and can twist on itself. Then it’s off to the great kennel in the sky to live with Dog. So he had to get his stomach stitched to his side in case he bloats again! Eugh!

As much as he’s a pain in the rump, I do kind of love the little beggar. Don’t tell him though. I was so worried about him - I whined the entire time he was at the vet. Saying that, he’s already survived falling in a frozen canal and being hit by a car. He also almost fell off a bridge into a ravine. He should be called Lucky.

I had my paws crossed and he’s safely back home and remarkably perky, although you have never seen a dog milk it as much as this. He refused to sleep in his bed last night and got to sleep with Mum. He’s now on the sofa, cosying in. Mum reckons it’s the only way to keep him still so he doesn’t pop his stitches. MUG.

Meanwhile, I’m in the dog bed and not allowed to go near him. I’ll bide my time – apparently Lampshade Head will be back to normal in 10 days. Cannae wait.

Happy new year

Otto’s Dog Blog – January 4

Happy new year to all my fans.

It’s been a great festive season. We spent Christmas at our Gran’s house – we even got a bit of trifle although it’s probably fairer to say that we stole it.

I got my annual cuddly toy which I proceeded to rip to bits in a new record time of 8 minutes. Rudy wasted valuable seconds kissing his furry duck before realising that it’s not for cuddling, it’s for destroying. We’re gundogs man!

We only get hard things to chew during the year. Now you know why.

Rudy tried to raid a chicken coop while we were out on a walk and Mum was shouted at by a lady. She needs to get a bigger fence because the Rudester is like a Grand National winner when it comes to fences.

We spend New Year with our other Gran because Mum and Dad were off partying. She didn’t believe us when we tried to tell her that we’re allowed to sleep on beds and eat steak. Mum couldn’t take us for a walk as apparently she hurt her foot dancing to the Wii. What? I’ve wet her foot doing a wee, but she could still walk (and boot me up the backside – gently).

Sadly, Mum and Dad go back to work tomorrow and we’ll be left on our own again. Boo. Mum says it’s not for long as she’s giving up work soon. What? How will we pay the vet bills on one salary?

She said something about moving to New Zealand, but I have no idea what she means. Don’t like the sound of it though.

They’re in the army now – apparently

Otto’s Dog Blog – December 15

Something strange is going on . Mum & Dad have been going out dressed for dog walking but they’ve not been taking us. I can usually tell when we’re getting left behind because Mum paints her face funny colours .

However, a couple of times a week, they go out dressed for the outdoors and come back covered in mud and stinking of grass, dog pee and bird poo. Smells lovely but we were totally confused and, to be honest, more than a bit miffed. They even did it when it was snowing.

Personally, I think we should get to go wherever they go, especially the dog food shop. I have heard that there is live food there like bunnies and guinea pigs.

 I did some digging, and apparently they have being going to the park to take part in military fitness classes. They get beasted for an hour by soldiers who make them lie in the mud and apparently they pay for the privilege. Weird.

I don’t see why we can’t come. We’re fitter than them all put together. Alternatively, we could just chase them round the park – now THAT would be fun.

But then I found out that it was in the park where I was beasted by a swan. They are far more dangerous than soldiers, so I’ve decided that I’d rather stay at home.

Fortunately, our new house has a great wood to run in and this military malarkey has not been at the expense of dog walking.  

I’ve chewed the linoleum just to remind them that german shorthaired pointers don’t take too kindly to being left in the house.