Flossie, THE JUICER and some ‘uncommon’ friends

Flossie almost 5months and Keano 8.5 years
See How I've grown!

The day started like so many other days as far as I was aware. The family began to emerge from those places where they spend their sleeping times, one by one. The Dave man arrived first. He made a fuss of me (always nice) and a fuss of Keano (essential or that chap may sulk for hours!) before going to the cupboard.

I like it when the humans ‘go to the cupboard’. Any cupboard will do, if it is in the kitchen. The thing is, you can always guarantee to get a tasty morsel to eat when there is a cupboard involved.

This morning, I crept close to the Dave man’s side and waited for something tasty to appear. The cupboard door opened. The Dave man reached inside. He pulled out a strange looking contraption – oh no, NOT THE JUICER!

I retreated to my bed and waited. All was fine at first. The Dave man set THE JUICER on the counter top and began chopping up fruit which he pushed into it. I had slithered to the furthest corner of my bed and was mentally calculating how long it would take me to reach the doorway when I saw that the stair gate had been fixed there and was shut. I was trapped. Help!

The Dave man’s finger was on the button, the button went down. THE JUICER SCREAMED. THE JUICER ROARED. I looked at the stair gate, I didn’t have time to think. As THE JUICER exploded into life I was already a hop, skip and a jump away from the gate and with all the agility of a racehorse, I lifted my body up, up and over the gate and high tailed it through the house and up the stairs. I flew over Keano’s inert form at the top, along the landing and into the nearest bedroom which happened to be Zoe’s, landing in a trembling heap on her bed. (I don’t think she noticed).

Well, it took all the Boss’s efforts to calm me down, though breakfast helped, I have to admit.

I am particularly proud of my athleticism since the stair gate is atop a step and not fixed at floor level. Alas, only the Dave man saw and he only glimpsed my fast disappearing tail when he looked up from THE JUICER.

I suppose every pup has its own nightmare and THE JUICER, it appears is mine. THE VACCUUM CLEANER only comes a poor second to this terrible device.

Perhaps I am still a little highly strung when the Boss puts both Keano and me in the car and drives us to the common for our morning ‘run’. I blame the Boss really though, for what happens next. The boss likes to secure me to the rear car seat as we drive (not sure why, as I wouldn’t dream of leaping through to the front seat, not unless she has THE JUICER nearby.) So, we stop in the lay-by next to the Common. The Boss gets out of the car and opens the door, still fiddling with keys, a plastic bag in which she keeps treats for us dogs and her glasses.

“Wait there,” the Boss mutters, but I think I must have misheard because I jump out of the car, still attached as it were. The lead is a little taut I must say. I can hear the Boss grumbling as she fights to disentangle the knot she tied earlier. I have to help. I back away, squeezing my shoulders in, under the car door so that poor Boss cannot do anything but watch as I slip out of my harness and make a break for freedom for the second time today. To my left is a small dog being stowed away in another car. To my right is the swing gate to the common. A couple of other canines have just run through it. Ignoring the Boss’s shout to ‘wait’, (I can see she is struggling, Ol’ Keano is still on the floor of the car behaving like a ‘grownup’ and the Boss’s sunglasses have slipped off their perch on her head and are hanging, crookedly, half way down her face.) She’ll be a while yet. I suppose, she may be mildly concerned that I might run into the traffic that is rumbling by but really, she should know, that a dog who runs from THE JUICER is not going to go anywhere near TRAFFIC.

I think she lets me go in the end rather than chase after me and I shoot through the gate and onto the field beyond. Not sure why they call this field, “The common”, very few ‘common’ types frequent it. Today for instance there is a very posh poodle, a well groomed sheep dog and a Great Dane awaiting me.

Maybe, I should have waited for the Boss. Nothing for it now, but to lie down, submissively and let those bigger guys check me over. I can hear them talking amongst themselves as they walk round me and sniff and prod,

“oh, a puppy I do believe,” the Poodle observes in posh, poodle tones,

“no manners, bursting onto the common like this…without an owner!” grumbles the Great Dane.

“Round her up! Round her up!” chips in the Collie, excited at the prospect of a stray he can bring into line. Thank goodness, the Boss appears on the horizon just then. Her glasses strategically placed on her nose and Keano at her heels, she carries my blue harness and lead and is waving them at me as she approaches. Now, does she expect me to run towards her with these great brutes only a whisker away? I stay put.

The Great Dane’s Boss beckons him away and he goes, surprisingly meek for such a big bloke. The Poodle sees the Boss advancing and throws me a disparaging glance before trotting off to rejoin her owner. The Collie continues to bark,

“Round her up! Round her up!” His lady owner arrives at the scene at the same time as The Boss.

“He loves to bark!” smiles the former, needlessly, as she hauls him away.

I let myself be refitted with the harness and lead and walk sedately by the Boss until we are out of range of the ‘A Team’. Keano has gone off on the trail of something, probably a rabbit, but I don’t want to follow just yet.

By the time the Boss sees fit to release me again, I have all but recovered from my exciting morning and race around with Keano, quite happily, until I spot something moving on the other side of the common – a little white dog – I begin to run, the Boss calls. I turn, I look at the Boss, I look back at the little white speck in the distance – The Boss raises her hand and lowers it swiftly,

“Here!” she orders. I need no second telling. I know what that raised hand means. I pelt back to The Boss and sit meekly by her feet waiting, as she fishes into the bag for a treat. Keano gets one too, just for being…well, Keano. I barely notice as she slips the lead back onto my harness. I walk sedately back to the car, climb in without a fuss and lie here, panting gently. I don’t move, not when she stops to post a letter and pops into the supermarket for milk, and not when she drives into ‘Scats’ to buy an extremely large sack of puppy food which she heaves into the boot with some difficulty. I remain quiet and still throughout.

Well, I have decided she needs a break.

Flossie A.K.A. Puptales aged 4 days short of 5 months

I am an Author, wife to one, mother to five and grandmother to six. I live in the English countryside in Hampshire, UK, with my husband and two dogs and am a non exec Director for Glow www.theglowstudio.com.


  • joann Mannix

    I can so relate to pup tales! Although, my Moronica and Moroni, do need a second telling and a third and a fourth…They’re getting better every day, but it has been a loooong year.

    And we too, would have been very frightened by the big, bad juicer even though we are both 60 pound puppies. We don’t realize that and even the dragonflies are scary.

    Lovely, entertaining tale.

  • Lazarus

    Great posts, I’ve just dialed around your blog, very entertaining. As an American, I enjoy reading of the cultural differences between us and our British cousins. Keep up the great work!

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