Saturday morning and they’d gone out. This is not how I had planned the day – I had in mind a long walk in the morning, snooze over lunch and then games in the afternoon along with a few attempts at getting on the sofa with P. Still, got my walk when they came back. While we were out saw some big white woolly dogs which seem to be kept in fields here, they have a funny bark though, perhaps it is the local dialect. I like to look over the wall at them and T told me they were called sheep – I haven’t heard of that breed of dog but I am no expert.

There were preparations to go out again in the afternoon, where to now? No matter, they were taking me!

We were going to a garden centre. Lots of plants and things on wheels which people attempted to push with plants in. Why? Was this a game? Didn’t seem much fun to me and things kept falling over, though this may have been part of the game. It seemed the aim was to put as many plants as possible in the thing on wheels and then try and hit people with it, if you made them yelp that seemed to be extra points. T and P have obviously done this before, they had two things on wheels with lots of big plants in which kept falling over. I think I was used as bait, people came over to fuss me coming right up to the thing on wheels. P and T may have done this before but they were hopeless; didn’t hit anyone. I got a bit confused as we seemed to walk around in circles, everyone else was as well, strange game this, no balls or sticks in sight. Eventually, P went inside what I think was some kind of house, presumed he must have won the game and had to collect a prize or maybe a ball. But he didn’t win anything, instead he was handing something over. Bit worried as P keeps my treats in his pocket - was he giving my treats away to strangers? T must have realised I was puzzled and told me P was paying for the plants.

Then off we went again with the things on wheels to the car, T didn’t say P had paid for those, I looked around to check if anyone had seen. Big relief, it seemed the game wasn’t over, the final part was to try and cram the large plants into the car, this took some doing. There was definitely no room for the things on wheels so we left those behind – just as well as we hadn’t paid for them.

When we got home P and T spent time in the back garden moving the plants around and looking at them. What is that all about? Time to take their mind off things, where’s my ball?

It has been a little wet here lately. Went out on Sunday with P and T to pick bilberries. This seemed a very good idea to me as the day before on my walk I had discovered that I rather liked them - fresh from the bush as nature intended. Saturday was sunny, Sunday was not.

Not one to be detered T persuaded P that despite the rain he really did want to go bilberry picking. Me, I just go with the flow. By the time we got to the preferred spot for picking it was raining and getting worse all the time - water off a dogs back to me! T and P looked soggy. Met a few mad people also picking the bilberries - why waste time putting them in a bag and taking them home? Just eat them straight from the bush it's much easier. I had quite a lot, my tongue was purple! Eventually T declared she had enough (for whatever it was she was going to do with them) I don't think P cared by this time he was so wet.

Trudged home in the by now heavy rain, T clutching the bag of bilberries. Saw a horse and tried to eat the manure but T was not very enthusiastic about that, I suppose I had eaten a lot already. Looked for a nice dirty puddle for a drink - there was plenty to choose from, T always objects to this.

It was overall a good morning and finished off with T drying me with my towel. This is always good fun as it gives me the opportunity to chew her hands, I love this game - she doesn't seem to (she's the same when I chew her feet). Sadly, due to the rain I didn't go for another walk, had to stay in. So stole T's slipper and generally got under her feet, well a dog has to amuse himself somehow, I am not a fan of golf (P is, he watched the Scottish Open).

T hasn't done anything with the bilberries yet, keeping an eye on this as I might be able to grab a mouthful and have a treat when she is not looking. It is odds on that whatever she does eventually do with them it won't include me.

Hello world!
I have been very quiet for the last month or so I know, had to undergo tests and check ups for my tummy problems, so spent some time at the vets.

Why do vets have to shove things up your bum? Is this normal? On go the gloves and you know what is coming – is this a fetish? Is that why people become vets?

Made our regular trip to the vets this week, feel like one of the family now. Always made a fuss of, they know me well, but it is always downhill from there. They lull you into a false sense of security, offer a treat and once your back is turned on go the gloves and aah! Where is the respect for my dignity! I don’t like injections and object most strongly to having my ears examined, I have even had stitched taken out – fought hard during that – well it is expected. But there is a limit and it is my bum!

I have been to the vets often in the last year, apparently my tummy is very delicate and I’m nervous. I’ll say I’m nervous – wouldn’t you be if you were afraid to turn your back? All I am doing is what comes naturally – barking at everything that goes past the house (particularly dogs) and eating whatever I can get in my mouth – soil, chewing gum, discarded rotting food and all washed down with a drink of muddy water. Lovely! So it makes me sick, that’s what dogs do.

Invariably I come home with tablets to take, I oblige, why not? They are put in with my food and when Trish and Phil think my tummy is upset they cook me chicken and rice, why should I object to that? Better than the dried food they give me, that is boring.

So if anyone mentions going to the vets, keep your back to the wall!