It's That Time of Year Again

Stratford Upon Avon Canal

Since we got back from our travels in September, I don't seem to have had 5 minutes to myself to update my Blogsite. My computer seems to have been in constant use by Dad, who is either playing games, fixing 'bugs'..( in summer, he just swatted them), or trying to find even cheaper sausages to supplement my meagre dog food rations, on something called a 'Google'.

Apparently, this time of year is called 'festive', and involves Mum and Dad going out nearly every day to buy more food and stuff than we used in the whole of the summer, and then complaining that there isn't anywhere to put it on the boat. There's so much stuff in the pantry that Mum and Dad now have to sit on the other side of the boat to stop it from tipping over, and the freezer door is being held shut with a piece of wood jammed against the wardrobe.
The back of the boat is full of carrier bags which Mum says that Dad is not to look in, (though I've caught him sneaking a peek when she's not around). The back of the car is full of carrier bags which Dad says that Mum mustn't look in either, but I guess that she's also sneaking a look while he's not around............(and they say that Border Collies are devious...............

There's a lot of stuff being cooked and baked in the oven, some of which has come my way by using either the 'cute' look or, if that fails, the 'half-starved pathetic' look. (Which is how I got re-homed from the Dogs Trust all those years ago.........it never fails!!)

There is a wonderful smell of cooked ham wafting around the boat at the moment, so I'll have to go and put my miserable face on.....you never know, something tasty could come of it.

Dad is doing some planning for our next trip in the Spring, so I'll be continuing my tales of boating adventures sometime in March. In the meantime, I hope that you all have a good 'festive' season and will join me again in the New Year.

XX Beau

'STILL LOOKIN' GOOD....................

Back to Base, and Back to School

Stratford upon Avon

Well, 6 months after we left, we're back where we started from.
Dad says that we've covered over 700 miles, and Mum says she KNOWS that she has done over 600 locks!....

I've been to some great places while we have been away........Thanks to Rosie the Rottie, I learnt to play football in Berkhamsted, saved an ungrateful man from getting carried away by a kite in Hackney, and won a prize in a Dog Show at the Rickmansworth Festival.
Between times, ducks, geese and pigeons have learnt to be a bit more alert on the towpath in the mornings, but in Tewkesbury, the sheep didn't seem to be that bothered.........

I've met some great people.......(who could forget 'The Boys from Norway' that we met in a pub at Lowsonford)...in fact, most of the people I met seemed to be at pubs............there's a story in there somewhere.....

Anyway, 'back to base' means that it's also 'back to school', because, for over 6 months, Dad's not done any agility work, (except for carrying a tray of beer glasses down the pub steps), which means that he needs to get back in training.

For those that don't know, Dog Agility takes place in a big field which has got up to 20 numbered obstacles set out on it.
The dog owners walk around the field, taking note of the numbers of each obstacle..........then they each take it in turns to RUN around the field, as fast as they can, making sure that they go round the obstacles in the right order.
Just so us dogs don't get bored, we are allowed to run around with them, and sort of 'drop hints' as to which obstacle is next...............
The winner of the game is the owner who gets all of the obstacles in the right order, in the fastest time.

When I first started taking Dad to Agility, he was hopeless! He kept missing out numbers, taking shortcuts and generally not keeping his mind on the job. Even when I barked at him to show him the next obstacle, he would go the wrong way, or trip over me.....I began to think he would never get the hang of it.......
Well now he hasn't been to school for a while, I've a suspicion that he's forgotten everything I've ever taught him, so it might be back to the 'bottom class' for a while...................the shame of it!!

I'll let you know how he gets on....

xx Beau

'You MUST remember this!!!

'Where's he gone NOW!!'

Beau on 'Brum'

Lapworth, Stratford upon Avon Canal

At last, things are back to normal. To coin a phrase, I am now 'back in good odour', my collar has been restored to its original colour, and apart from a few muddy droplets on the ceiling above Mum's chair, you'd never know that our last 'misunderstanding' happened at all.

We are now heading back to our base at Stratford, but we have taken an alternative route back, 'Just to see what it's like'.
So, for the last few days, we have been going round a place called 'Brum', and it certainly is 'different'.......

Brum is a really warm place, all of the year round. I know that, because most of the buidings I saw from the boat have had holes put in the windows to let more air in. The really warm buildings have had their roofs taken off as well.........

Brum has a lot of artists, who have been very busy brightening up the canals by putting writing and pictures all over the sides of buildings and most of the bridges.
Because it is such a long way round 'Brum' on the tow paths, every few yards or so, the usual number of bench seats has been added to with matresses, and I even saw some old quilts and sleeping bags for people to use if they got really tired.

Another popular facility seemed to be places along the towpath where you could buy drinks. Nearly every alley way and bridge had a group of people who had been served, and there were piles of cans and bottles around, so there was obviously quite a demand for the service.
Dad had been complaining that there hadn't been many places to get beer round 'Brum', but I reckon that if we'd stopped and asked the guys under the bridges, they could have sold us some, or at least told us where to go............................

Even though the colour of the canal water had been different to what we'd been used to, I thought that 'Brum' was a very interesting place, and a real change to some of the towns we've been through.

I know that Dad thought it had been worth coming this way round because he said that he was 'glad to see the back of it'. I guess that means that one day we'll go another way round and see the front of it.

xx Beau

OK, I promise, no more rolling!!

Local artists really made an impression

Beau and The Soap Opera

Autherley Junction, Shropshire Union Canal

Well, a few days have passed, and things seem to be getting back to normal.
I've been thinking though, how, even when doing things for the best of reasons, misunderstandings are apt to arise.
Take, for example, the recent Incident of the Unknown Substance ( see previous Blog posting 'Beau Smells Trouble'.

Misunderstanding No.1
I thought that Dad would share my curiosity regarding the stuff that I rolled in and brought back to the boat; I WAS WRONG...Having got it all over his hands when he grabbed my collar, he was, selfishly, only interested in wiping it off on the grass.

Misunderstanding No.2
I thought that, if Dad wasn't interested, then Mum certainly would be, so I ran down the boat and put my head in her lap so that she could get a good look at what I'd brought back.
THIS WAS A MISTAKE....Mum just shouted 'MIKE!!..He's rolled in something!..Get him out of here!!

Having just finished cleaning off his hands in the grass, Dad heard Mum shout, and came running down the boat..

Misunderstanding No.3
In case he tripped over me on his way in, I thought I'd better get out of his way, so I jumped up onto the bed.
THIS WAS ANOTHER MISTAKE....Seeing me lying on the bed, Dad grabbed me by the collar to get me back onto the floor, but, as my collar was still carrying a reasonable quantity of the unknown substance, Dad, once again, had it all over his hands.........

The sticky stuff that I had brought back to the boat was, by now, starting to flake and drop onto the floor in lumps, so Dad decided that he had to get me cleaned up as soon as possible. His decision was to utilise the shower. THIS TIME IT WAS HIS MISTAKE........

Dad got the shower running, opened the door and tried to shove me in. Out of politeness, and as it was me that had got him covered in the stuff, I thought that he would probably want to come in too....
So, whilst Dad shoved, I suddenly walked forwards....and viola!!...not a huge amount of room, but we were both in!
APPARENTLY, THIS WAS ALSO WRONG!!...For several reasons.....
1. Dad still had all of his clothes on, though to be honest, they would have needed washing anyway
2. The shower door was still open, and the bathroom floor was already awash
3. The nice-smelling squirty soap that he needed, was still outside of the shower.......

Dad turned off the water, got out of the shower in his wet clothes and said 'WAIT! while I get a towel. (I suppose he wanted to dry himself off).

Well, I couldn't wait for Dad to come back, and I knew that Mum would want to see me now that I smelt nice again, so I ran down the boat and shook off all of the dirty water in front of her so that she could see how lovely and clean I was.......

But apparently, that was a mistake as well...............................

xx Beau

Beau Smells Trouble

Norbury Wharf, Shropshire Union Canal

There's a certain pattern to the start of my day....it's been honed to perfection during my time on the boat, and Dad hasn't been the easiest of people to train; but I'm getting there.

It's my duty to get everybody up and about,..... whether they want to or not.
If Dad pretends to be asleep, even though its gone 5:00 in the morning, then a lick on the elbow, or the foot will normally be enough to stir things up..- failing that, a cold wet nose applied to his anatomy will generally do the trick.

After I have breakfasted heartily on dried biscuits, mixed with low-priced, low-pork, low-taste sausages, it's time to leave the ship....or as Mum puts it, "Get him out from under my feet", ...I think that she's talking about Dad, but I'm not really sure.

Out on the Towpath, (so called because it's where dogs tow their owners along), and it's time to pick up my P-mail, leave replies and do a bit of waste-disposal.
Being well-trained, Dad always picks up behind me, predictably saying " Good grief Beau, what HAVE you been eating?"

I take the view, "Well, you're the one that fed it to me.....it's low-priced, low-pork, low-taste lookalike sausages...You know what they say, Rubbish in, Rubbish out, so what do you expect?"

At this point, we would normally return to the boat, but today, I was getting a sniff of something rather interesting a bit further up the track....something that had to be investigated.
Dad didn't really want to go any further, his mind was already on toast, peanut butter and a hot cup of tea on the boat, but such considerations are as nothing to the curious collie................

Dad called me, (I think), and started back to the boat. I adopted the cunning disguise of the half-deaf  sheepdog which has served me so well in the past, and carried on towards the distant, inviting smell.

When I got there, I have to admit, I couldn't really work out quite what it was. It certainly smelled nice, it was a greenish, yellowy, brown-black lump of stuff that reminded me of Dad's experiment with Curried Faggots..........

Dad was still heading back to the boat, so it was no use waiting for him to come and identify it....I didn't have anything to carry it back in, so what else could I do but smear a bit under my chin, round my ears, on my back and under my collar..........
Having made sure that I had a good sample, I ran back and caught up with Dad just as he got to the boat.

He looked at me, turned up his nose, and his eyes began to water......He grabbed me by the collar to stop me getting on the boat.......
"OH BEAU!!...What in heavens name have you rolled in!!!!"

I thought, " Well, now you've got it all over your hands, You tell me"..........

I don't think we've heard the last of this episode...

xx Beau

Beau and The Silence of The Lambs

Tewkesbury, River Avon

We've had to leave Evesham.

Since the episode of The Phantom Spaniel, I've developed a bit of a twitch when the hedge rustles, and I suffer from separation anxiety when I can't see my food-bowl.
Dad said that if we didn't move, then he'd have to take me to Harley Street..........My God!..they've even named a road after him!!!!

So, on the run again - another 3 days on the river and we've parked in a town where our river, going down, meets another river, also going down. I can't help but feel that one decent-sized river would have been better.

Anyway, the day after we arrived, Dad took me along the road to a place called The Ham. He said it was called that because, in the old days, they used to keep pigs on it;....but now............my word!...it's full of sheep, hundreds of them, as far as the eye can see.
Dad just said 'There you are boy, what do you think of that lot'........WHAT DO I THINK!!!!....
Listen, I've seen that telly program 'One Dog and His Man', they only use about half a dozen really old stunt sheep that have done a deal with the sheepdogs to go through a few fences and stuff, whilst some old guy, who has to lean on a stick, tries to whistle through his false teeth, and keeps shouting things like 'Awee!', and 'Lidoon!', and 'Coom Buy!'.

Now, I've got a rough idea what to do, but with this lot?........please....................

My Collie intuition told me not to look at the whole thing, but to break the problem down into bite-size-chunks, and deal with that.

So I spotted a group of about a dozen or so sheep that looked like they might like to play, so I crept forward and gave them 'The Collie Eye'.
This is where the inate power of the sheepdog is used to dominate and control the sheep in order to do his bidding. What normally happens to sheep given 'The Eye', is that one or two of them will give the alarm and they will attempt to run.........which means that 'The Chase' is on....

Except that these sheep didn't......
    
Didn't sound the alarm
            Didn't scatter to the four winds
                   Didn't stop eating grass
                            Didn't care less..........................

Barking, standing on tip-toe to look big, rolling on the ground whilst balancing an orange squeaky ball on the nose.....................nothing impressed these sheep.

Maybe Dad will learn to whistle, and get me some old 'TV Stunt Sheep' to play with for Christmas.....

XX Beau

Beau gives them 'The Eye'

Beau and The Phantom Spaniel

Evesham Marina, River Avon

The days of climbing ladders to go to bed are over.....After what seems an age, (only 5 days actually), Dad's bottom is now apparently sufficiently coated in black paint that it will not rust or leak for the next 4 years.......
Personally, I can't see the difference, but Mum says that she can when she looks at it from a certain angle!!

With things getting back to what I call normal, I've had a lot more time to relax and become attuned to my surroundings.
It was whilst I was 'attuning' on my day-bed, that I first thought I saw the rear-end of a Springer Spaniel disappearing through a hole in the hedge, near the front of the boat.
I didn't see it again that day, and put it down to a trick of the light.
However, the next day, there was a distinct rustling in the bushes, and though I admit that I wasn't at the peak of my alertness, I would have sworn that I saw the shape of a Spaniel, silhouetted against the fence.....but again, it didn't reappear; although on my excursions later in the day, I definitely caught the unmistakeable whiff of Spaniel near to one of my p-mail sites.

Nothing happened for a couple of days after that, so I naturally assumed that I had been mistaken, which, I guess is why I let my guard drop just a little.......because the following day, I almost, definitely, possibly, might have seen the Spaniel shape once more, outlined against the fence,... but this time I was ready....

                         Off the boat......head down......tail up.......nose in search mode...............
There was definitely something there......in the hedge, moving steadily and with great purpose.

So, into the 'Collie-crouch', head down, bum up, cunningly concealed behind a blade of grass...the perfect ambush position!!

It's all about stealth, cunning, and great patience you know.... You don't learn it; the Border Collie is born with it...at one with Nature, and Master of the waiting game........so I waited, and I waited...................

Being a master of the stealthy ambush, I am also quick to realise that if the trap is not sprung after an hour, then something has gone wrong.
Was the blade of grass too small, did my ears give it away, was the smell of 'eau-de-fox' dabbed under the collar a bit too much ???

Either way, it was getting late, and the Inner Dog needed to be fed, so it was a somewhat sad return to the boat, but with the prospect of tucking into the remains of my chicken and biscuit breakfast to cheer me up.
...............Except that when I got there, not a scrap remained...........

The bowl?....licked clean and sparkling like new.
The plastic floor mat?...ditto. 
Under the kitchen units?...pristine...........

How he'd got from Stratford I don't know, but Harley had been....had hoovered up....and was gone.........

xx Beau

I was never there!!

The art of concealment!!

Beau and People in High Places

Evesham Marina, River Avon

I've hardly got over the shock of taking 4 months to get to London and back when Dad said that we were off again!!
If I heard him right, he said that he had to get his bottom painted black this week, or it would go rusty and start letting water in. Apparently getting it painted once every 4 years is sufficient to keep him watertight.

We left early in the morning, before even my mate Harley (the Springer Spaniel) had called into the boat to hoover up the last of my breakfast biscuits.
Despite our early departure, there were a couple of people about to wave us goodbye, which seemed a bit over-the-top when we were only going off to get Dad's bottom waterproofed.
There were loads more people around when we went under the bridge into town. This time they were pointing at me, taking loads of pictures and talking in strange languages.

After 3 long days on the river, I was getting really fed up, but finally we arrived at a big boat park which was so full that Dad had to park right under a huge rusty crane that didn't look too safe, so we all got off. It was just as well really, because no sooner had we stepped onto dry land when this huge machine burst into life, picked up my home, swung it right up into the air and dumped it on some concrete, right by the side of the river.

I decided then and there that the people in this boat park were crazy.....there we were, all standing on the grass and they've put the place where I live on blocks of wood so tall that we can't get back onto it!!!!

Where are we going to sleep?.
                                         How's Dad going to get his beer?,
                                                                                      HOW AM I GOING TO GET MY TEA???!!!....

Dad went to speak to the man that had picked up our boat, and I guess that he must have told him of my worries, because he came back with a huge set of steps, pushed them against the back of the boat and left, saying 'There you go'...                  THERE YOU GO!!!.......I'm a dog, not a rock-climber!!,
I don't know about stairs, I've never had to climb ten foot to get to my food-bowl before, and I don't think Dad's used to high altitudes either.

Naturally I thought that Dad was going to take me up the steps by carrying me, like he did when I was a young pup...but I was mistaken!!.....
Dad thought that because I go over jumps at Agility, that I would do the steps.....but he was mistaken!!

Mum, of course, as the most practical person in the family, came up with the answer....She simply said 'If you two don't stop faffing around and get onto the boat THERE WON'T BE ANY TEA!!'
So, putting our worries aside in the name of family harmony, and desparately in need of sustenance, we were soon up the steps and leaning over the back rail to look at the ground...many feet below, and got to wondering how, now that we are up...how do we get down???...
                       ...........and after all of this trauma, when and how are they going to paint Dad's bottom?? ...

Doubtless Mum will have an answer for that as well...

xx Beau

Beau and The Hidden Box of Torture

Stratford upon Avon, Stratford Canal

We've been here for about 10 days so far, and I think that Dad is getting bored. He's polished the boat - twice, and even scrubbed off the black gooey stuff that comes off the chimney onto the roof in Winter. He's put black polish on the stove, cleaned my paw prints off the radiator in the bedroom, and now he's really getting under Mum's feet. (So that makes two of us!!)

There's been a black box behind Mums chair for as long as I can remember. It's had books on it, been covered with an old dog blanket, and I think that Dad used it once to stand on when he fixed a light in the roof.
Anyway, yesterday, with a shout of "I know what I'll do!!", Dad leapt, (as only a 61 year old can leap), dived into the corner behind Mums chair and dragged the long-hidden box into the daylight for the first time in years.
From out of its depths, came an object of shiney red, with little white buttons all over it. Within seconds, Dad had pulled it apart and pressing some of the buttons, produced a noise like an asthmatic cat being scalded with boiling water.

Squeezing and pulling and pressing of white buttons went on for what seemed to be several lifetimes; my ears were ringing and Mum had long ago left in search of some peace, standing under the loudspeakers at the railway station.
Dad finally said that he'd practised enough for one day and carefully put the squealing red monster back into the black box.
Peace and quiet eventually returned, my ears stopped ringing, and Mum came back with a small bag from the B&Q place.

The black box has gone back behind the chair again, but now it has a shiney padlock on it.....I could be mistaken, but last night, I thought I heard the tinkle of keys being quietly dropped over the side of the boat.

xx Beau

Time Travel

Stratford-upon-Avon, Stratford Canal

We've arrived back to the place we started out from. When we left, there was snow on the ground and my p-mails were frozen within minutes of being posted. Now that we are back, its raining and there is thunder and lightning, which doesn't really bother me, but Dads a bit worried about being zapped on his shiney bald-spot, (or solar-panel as he calls it).

Anyway, as soon as we got back, my mate Harley the Springer Spaniel, who had obviously missed me, made himself at home by coming onto the boat and clearing my food-bowl.....twice!!   He even hoovered-up all of my spare biscuits that had gone under the kitchen units and behind the cooker that I kept for those moments when I felt snacky in the night.....

Although I was a bit miffed, Mum said that the sharing of food is the sign of true friendship, but I don't think that sharing was uppermost in Harleys mind, and true friendship wears thin when night-starvation sets in......

Sometimes, when I appear to be asleep, I'm really listening in to conversations that are going on around me, listening out for key-words like 'Vets', 'Chicken' and 'Walk'. Anyway, Mum and Dad were talking to some people about our latest trip, when these people said how strange it was that it had taken us 4 months to get from Stratford to London, when we could have driven there in a couple of hours..............A COUPLE OF HOURS !!!!!....are you kidding me??  I've been stuck on this boat for 4 months, I've been tied up outside pubs, been dribbled on by Rotties, growled at by Staffies with tattoos, been shouted at by kite-flyers, taunted by sheep and disrespected by ducks...............all to get to London when we could have got there and back in a day!!!!!!
Mum tried to calm me down.....she said that a chap once wrote 'It is not about the destination, it is about the journey'. Well, all  I can say is that the destination wasn't all that good, and the journey took so long that when I got back, I had to forfeit my biscuit stash to a Spaniel......I bet that chap never thought about that when he wrote his book......

I'm going to lie on my bed and stare at flies on the ceiling for a bit.....

xx Beau

The Boys from Norway

Lowsonford, Stratford Canal

Its been a while since I've been able to get onto the laptop. The thing at the back of the boat that's supposed to make electricity as we go along, hasn't been. Every few minutes this thing goes 'bleep, bleep, bleep, and puts a red light on which, apparently, means that it's got too hot, and has given up for a while.
Dads had it in pieces for days now; he said it shouldn't be getting that hot, even in this weather, because its got a fan in it.
Well, I've got fans all over the world, and I'm still feeling the heat!! so I don't think that being popular is a reason for it to bleep all the time, or maybe I'm missing the point somewhere.

So, there we were, sitting in the shade of another pub next to the canal; Dad was replacing his lost body fluids with something called I.P.A., which Mum says is short for 'I'm Plastered Again', and we were next to a table with three guys who were talking a strange language, not Brummie or London, but something much more wierd.
Anyway, they saw me and said, in normal languge, 'Hey, you must be Beau, from the boat'.....'we saw you when we went past'. So they got talking to Mum and Dad about boat stuff, like where does all the washing-up water go, (as if Dad would know), and it turned out that they were from a place called Norway, and are taught to speak this strange language from an early age, and only use English when they need to speak in pubs.
Dad was really pleased, because they had spent a lot of money to borrow the boat, and they were doing exactly what he does........they were going up the canals, from pub to pub, and enjoying every minute of it.
Mum said that talking to them was like playing SNAP with pub names. Every time they mentioned a pub, Dad said 'Been there, got the Beer Mat', which I think is something you wipe your feet on when you go in.

They were really nice to talk to, and they took down my Blogsite address, so doubtless, they will be sending more pub names to add to Dad's SNAP list.

It's hot outside, so be like me and stay cool

or,  

Ha en god tur, og, finne noen gode puber!!  as they say............

xx Beau

Wimbledon..What's all that about??

Warwick, Grand Union Canal

Dad says that the whole country is suffering from something called 'Murray Mania', and I'm not sure that its a good thing.
For a start, we were parked next to a boat that had a really loud telly, and, as you do, you can't help but look to see what it is they're watching.
So there's this man, I guess that he must have been the Murray, dressed in white and he's got one of my green 'chasing' balls in his hand, and he's teasing the man at the other end of the grass, because he's just bouncing the ball on the ground and not hitting it with his bat. (If that was me, I'd bite his hand and take it off him, but that's something that Dad and I are working on apparently).
Anyway, eventually he gives up teasing the other man and hits the ball as hard as he can; so hard in fact that the other man can't get to it. Well the crowd didn't like it either, because they all shouted at him, and so did another man who was sat on a step-ladder, who seemed to be calling everybody 'love'.
The shouting of the crowd didn't seem to be upsetting the man who was teasing, because he just smiled and did it all over again.
A couple of times, the man at the other end did manage to hit the ball back, and just to let this Murray guy know that he wasn't happy about his teasing, he hit it to the other corner of the grass, just to make him run around a bit, and that seemed to take the smile off his face for a while.
Eventually, the man got a bit fed up of being teased by Murray all of the time, so he took his bat, sat down on a chair and had a drink of squash.
I'd got a bit bored by now, and all this teasing was going on a bit too long to grasp my short attention span, so I guess I must have dropped off for a while, anyway, a load of noise on the telly must have woken me up because I just caught the man on the stepladder shouting 'Gamesetten Match', (which sounded a bit foreign), Murray threw his bat away and flopped on the ground in temper, then loads of people all ran onto the grass, I guess it was to tell him that they weren't impressed by his theatricals, then I went in because I thought I heard the sound of cooked chicken being sliced..............................
As one who chases green balls for a living, I think that this type of behaviour shouldn't be shown on TV, and in any event, Murray could have had much more fun if he'd hit the ball niceley to the other man, who could have hit it back to him, and so they could have had a nice time without all of the teasing, shouting, tantrums, and men on stepladders talking in German.....
If that's what you call 'Murray Mania', you can keep it.....Thankfully, it's only once a year.

xx Beau

War Zone

Stoke Bruerne, Grand Union Canal

I woke up this morning in a war zone...........

Normally, I wake up and have a look outside to check on the weather and compare it to the rubbish that Dad gets off the radio.
Because of where we park the boat, I can usually guarantee that I will see trees, bushes, and occasionally, overweight men running past who should really keep their legs covered up, and certainly shouldn't be wearing tight black shorts with lumps in all the wrong places.

But today, we were surrounded on all sides by men in camouflage army suits, and judging by the amount of kit that they had brought with them, they were going to be here for a long time. The towpath was stacked full of boxes, bags, tents and all sorts of other stuff that I couldn't image a use for. In most places, the path was almost completely blocked, so heaven knows how the bikes and buggies were going to get through.

Dad said that he'd seen this sort of thing before, and we had to get out of there NOW!!....so without having time for my morning workout with the squirrels in the Park, Dad, who is not known for his speed of movement, amazed us all by getting the boat going as loud as it could, within a matter of minutes.
In any event, Dad's unusual morning turn of speed didn't do any good, 'cos as soon as we got going, the men on the bank put really long poles across the canal to try and stop us from getting away. Some were so long that they nearly touched the bank on the other side.
Dad was pretty determined to press on, so he headed for the poles and the men left it until the last minute to lift them out of the way. Even so, they were determined to upset us, because, on the end of each pole was a bit of string to which they had tied something slimy and wriggly, and I think that they meant to drop it on us as we went by.

Dad said it was like a game of chicken, but I've never seen chickens do this sort of thing. Anyway after a couple of miles, there weren't any more men with poles, so I think it was just that we'd parked in a bad area.

It made me think though.........you spend all day cruising along on your boat, you park it up in the middle of nowhere, you go to sleep and when you wake up, you're the victim of rural violence. I know that Dad thinks I'm a bit paranoid, but my worry is that I might not be paranoid enough.............

xx Beau

 

Wendover, Grand Union Canal

We had to move from our old parking spot in Berkhamsted. Dad said that shopping in White Rose was costing him more arms and legs than he was happy to part with.
I personally think that it was the price of his bottles of beer that clinched it, because their two for the price of three offer didn't quite meet his daily needs.

So I gave the local rabbits their early morning exercise over on the Park, ducked the geese, goosed the ducks, and, with a heaviness of heart, I left my final pee-mails along the towpath, and we were off to pastures new. 'Beau has left the building!!', ...and I can only hope that another of my kind will pass this way to keep the local rabbits on their toes............

We travelled about 7 miles which took most of the day....the boat doesn't go very fast, and if  Dad pushes the white lever thingy on the side, the boat gets louder, rattles a lot, and makes more smoke, but we still don't seem to go any faster......in fact we got passed by the same group of grey-haired old ladies twice yesterday; once on their way, and again on their way back!

We came to a junction and turned left into a very narrow bit of water, Dad said its called an 'arm', but it looks like a ditch. Anyway, after about a mile we came to a dead end and had to turn around and we still hadn't found a place to park. On the way back down the ditch, we finally managed to find a place under some trees, and something to tie the boat to.

Tomorrow we're going exploring, hopefully to find a suitable place to play football. In the meantime, Dad's taken a couple of pictures of me 'doing my thing', I particularly like the first one where I took the ball on the half-volley and headed it straight past the keeper ......straight into the canal.
My 'ball-girl' (Mum) had to go over the bridge to pick it up. .....Sad, but if they bought me a proper set of goalposts, I could practice this sort of thing more often.......Enjoy...................

xx Beau

Berkhamsted, Grand Union Canal

Last time we were here, it rained and rained.......we've been all the way into London and back out, and now that we're back here.....its still raining!!

The plague of flying Pekinese seems to be over. It's either because the wind has dropped, or because Rosie the Rotty, (who bequeathed me her football), has given up being a Veggie.

The football practice is still going well, Dads dribbling is pretty much as it was, but I might have to give up heading the ball, because I looked in the mirror the other day and I'm sure my neck is getting shorter. We saw a bulldog a couple of days ago and Mum said that's what I'll look like if I don't take it easy.

During my observations of the people using the towpath round here, I've noticed that an awful lot of people are going along talking to themselves. They're waving their arms about, laughing, saying things like 'No waaaay! and 'You dint!!, and 'OK, laters man!!.....
Anyway, whatevvaa.......
Mum says that they're probably using 'hands free', but there's far too much arm action for that to be true, or, she said, they might be using an 'eye-phone', but I'm not sure that they could talk and see at the same time if they were using something like that.
I'm trusting my sheepdog intuition here, and coming down on the side that says that Berkhamsted has a lot of people who are lonely, and who use the towpath as a form of therapy. I, myself have been known to mutter to myself quite a bit when Dad isn't operating on my frequency...................

Well, the sun has finally come out for a few minutes, so, despite the risks of becoming bulldog-like, I'm going to stare at Dad to see if he can work out what my 'eye-phone' is saying...................


xx Laters, man

Beau

 

Hemel Hempstead, Grand Union Canal

Dads parked the boat near to some grassland that looks like it might be suitable for a game of football, though getting him off the boat might be a bit difficult as there isn't a pub nearby, and tempting him with a doggy treat doesn't seem to work as well on him as it does on me.............

I've been watching the goings-on, taking place on the nice smooth bit of grass on the other side of the water, for some time now, and although we are supposed to be in the 21st Century, this place still seems to be carrying on some form of ancient punishment.

Just after lunch, loads of men, all dressed in white, came out of a wooden shed on the edge of the grass, and made a circle in the middle. Shortly after, another man came out and had to stand in front of some sticks that were stuck in the ground. He didn't seem to be very happy, because he kept on looking around at all the others that were in the circle. I guess he'd done something really bad, because a big tall chap ran towards the circle and threw a ball as hard as he could at the man by the sticks who only had a small piece of wood to protect himself with.
He managed to dodge a couple of the throws, but eventually one hit him really hard on the leg and everybody cheered, then they stopped cheering because one of the men, who was wearing three jumpers and a coat because he was cold, said that the ball hadn't hit him hard enough and he would have to stay.

One of the balls that was thrown at him hit his bit of wood and he tried to make a dash for the wooden hut, but the men in the circle came in closer and threw the ball at him to make him stop. Then the inevitable happened; one ball hit his leg really hard and broke the sticks. Everybody cheered and didn't seem sorry that the man had been hurt and could hardly walk back to the shed.
I guess it was because they were looking forward to throwing balls at the next victim who was just coming into the circle with his bit of wood.

I expect thay all thought that they were really hard men, throwing balls for two hours, at defenceless individuals who weren't allowed to move. Anyway, they weren't that tough, because as soon as it started to spit with rain, they all ran indoors and didn't come out again. A pity really, because I would have like to see how they liked it if they were the ones who had to stand by the sticks.

They say that football is a rough game,...... but this type of ancient punishment just isn't cricket!

The sooner we get away from here the better, I reckon.......

xx Beau

Cassiobury Park, Grand Union Canal

Sadly, we have had to leave my favourite parking place at Rickmansworth, because Dad says we have to carry on adventuring. (I think that it is more the call of the Three Horseshoes at Winkwell, rather than the call of the open road as they say)...............but these are the mere musings of a cynical Collie with too much time on his paws.

I was just getting to know the dog from the boat in front of us as well. She was really good-looking in a Collie-cross sort of way, and I was looking forward to staying around her for a while. Anyway, we left early in the morning, so all I could do was leave her a quick p-mail and hope that she got the message.

So three hours later we parked near some woodland where I'd been before, and would you believe it, within an hour, her boat had parked behind us and she came trotting up the tow-path!!
Just goes to show that I've still got what it takes.....not many dogs would walk 4 miles up the towpath just to be with their BEAU........get it?

Got to go and brush away the dust of travel now.....

xx Beau

p.s.
I've got followers all over the world now, and I would love to read your comments on my stories. xx B

pps
Just couldn't resist chewing on this old bit of leftover dachshund.

Rickmansworth, Grand Union Canal

We're back at one of my favourite places, and the scene of a recent triumph in the parade ring (see my post 19.05.2013)
Of course its quieter now with all of the Festival people out of the way, and I'm not into all that fame and fortune stuff really....

We've been back a few days now and I've met a couple of pals who, like me, like to run around and have a good time. With geese, ducks and swans in abundance, there is sport to be had for the more adventurous dogs.
Today I was playing with Woody, the Lurcher, and Boo-Boo, the Greyhound, and we had a great time tearing around on the grass seeing who could take corners the fastest.
The race seemed to worry some of the owners of smaller dogs who picked them up and clutched them tightly in case they got run over......of course there are always one or two that aren't quick enough, but they don't get badly hurt, and most of them are normally up and about again within a few minutes.

Dad calls it 'Collie-lateral damage', or something like that........

Anyway, it seems that we are going to stay here for a few more days yet to keep the geese in line, and whip the slower dogs into shape. One way or another, they're certainly going to know that Beau has been here......

xx Beau

Denham Park, Grand Union Canal

So, the tales of my bravery on Hackney Marshes have gone far and wide, to the extent that we've had to leave the area.
After saving the man from getting dragged into the air, and probably killed, every time I went out onto the football pitches to play ball, people with kites ran towards me shouting 'There he is...that's the one!!... and we had to run back to the boat.
Honestly, fame and fortune is OK but sometimes you just want a bit of peace and quiet to play football, and I know that if I don't get Dad off the boat a couple of times a day, he'll seize up and won't be able to keep up with me.
We went all round London and couldn't find a decent place to park that had a Park as good as Hackney, so we've headed Northwards again and found a nice place with woods and grass and loads of dogs going past, so with a bit of luck I'll be able to go out again without having to disguise myself from the persuing pack of admirers...............

xx Beau

Hackney Marshes, River Lee Navigation

I'm in heaven........last week there wasn't any grass anywhere, and yesterday, Dad parked the boat by some trees, and behind the trees we found a huge field with about 20 football pitches on it.

Speaking to the local people, as you do, we found out that this place is called 'Ecknee Mawchezz', and is famous for being where Beckham started out before getting famous.
I've done it the other way round, I'm already famous and I've just popped in for a few days......

Went over to the pitches today for a quick kick about with Dad, or rather with the football... Dad just gets invited in case the ball goes into the long grass and I can't find it. Anyway, there we were having fun when out of the corner of my eye, there's this huge kite thing that seems to be dragging a man along the grass and into the air. So without regard to my own safety, I run across this huge field and with one of my best jumps, just manage to drag the kite to the ground, probably saving the mans life.............Do I get thanks? Oh no.... he starts shouting at me to leave it alone, and tells Dad that it cost him over £100..........

I learnt a couple of things from this.......people round here are a thankless bunch, and are willing to spend a lot of money to get themselves killed.

I'm going back to my football.

xx Beau

Camden Town, Regents Canal

Dad says that we've arrived in the 'smoke', but to my eyes, the visibility is better than it's been for days, what with all the lumpy rain and stuff that's been coming down.

I'm not sure that I'm going to like it here........there's loads of people walking past, but nobody seems to speak English, which means that they won't be able to read my blogsite. The only bit of grass I've seen today had a load of big black pigs on it, and turned out to be a zoo. As Dad couldn't park the boat there, I wasn't able to introduce myself even if I'd wanted to.

Speaking of grass, when Mum took me out for a walk this morning before we left, she found a little plastic packet with stuff in it which she said was grass.
Dad said that if anyone knew what was grass or not, it would be Mum, and that if she was sure, she should hide it under the mattress until he could get some papers.
Why he needed to read the news before he opened the packet is beyond me......Mum said that she just wanted to look at it with her microscope thingy.
Sometimes I think that they aren't tuned into the same channel..............

Must go now 'cos Dads going to take me out to see if the streets are paved with more than chip wrappers and empty beer cans.

xx Beau

Rickmansworth, Grand Union Canal

Well, it was worth the wait.
Mum and Dad have been parked here for 5 days now, waiting for this Festival thing to start. Its been pretty good though, because there are big lakes with loads of geeses, ducks and swans, so there have been loads of opportunities for me to introduce myself, and big areas of grass with stuff to roll in and to play more football. Dad reckons I could be another Beckham, (whatever one of those is), but apparently, I would need to change my hairstyle and speak funny.

Anyway, this Festival thing got going and there were loads of balloons to chase, but I wasn't allowed. There were lots of bright flashing lights on the fairground rides to bark at, but I wasn't allowed. There were loads of other dogs to meet and greet, but I wasn't allowed. there was even a huge horse to play with but....well, you've guessed the rest.

I discovered that the real reason for us being at the Festival was centred on a display called 'The Beer Tent', where we spent a lot of time 'relaxing' with some very loud music. But the time came for us to go into an area where I had to parade around with a load of other dogs, who I still wasn't allowed to play with. A lady asked Dad all about me, so obviously she didn't know about my blog-site, then after a while this chap comes over and says congratulations to Dad on having such a fine looking dog. I could have told him that without all the parading around......but apparently, that's show business......and I did get a big blue badge.

xx Beau

Rickmansworth, Grand Union Canal

Dad says that the old boatmen (apparently there are some, but not many, that are older than him), used to call this place 'Ricky'. Mum says that with all the horrible locks round here, it should have been called 'Tricky'.

Anyway, I really like it....yesterday we parked the boat near some woods that have loads of tracks that I ran around...nearly got lost, but I'd left a p-trail behind me so I was able to sniff-nav my way back.

At the top of the woods I found a huge garden lawn where people were walking around hitting little white balls with thin sticks........and the whole thing was a bit weird.
For a start, they were hitting the balls as hard as they could, and there wasn't a dog in sight to bring them back, so after they had run out of balls, they all had a long walk across the big lawn to where they had landed, and try to find them.
Nobody said anything, but I knew one of them was cheating, because he shouted 'four', and he'd only hit one..........
The other thing was, that the thin sticks obviously broke quite often, because they all carried big bags that were filled with replacements....some had so many that they'd put their bags on little trolleys.

Whatever it was that they were doing, in my opinion, they would have had more fun by using thicker sticks, bigger balls, and a couple of dogs to bring them back.

xx Beau

Berkhamsted, Grand Union Canal

We're still here...
The weather has turned really bad with lots of rain and strong winds. I've seen at least two Pekinese flying past the window where the wind has got under their ears.

We were living dangerously yesterday;... we pinched a football off of a local Rottie called Rosie...well what actually happened was that her owner had found the ball in the canal and had fished it out for her to play with. When she came past our boat, things got a bit boisterous and I snouted the ball back into the canal and it floated away.
When Dad took me over to the park on the other side of the canal, there it was against the side, so he fished it out again. It wasn't in too bad a condition; the canal had washed off most of the Rottie spit (why do they all do that?), so we got into the football thing for half an hour or so, until Dad got tired and we had to go back to the boat.
It was, apparently, quite a good time to find a football, because Dad said someone called Fergie has just given it up, and the job doesn't sound too difficult if we could practice now and then.
Mum said she thought Fergie had given it up a long time ago when she married that Prince Andrew, but she could be mistaken.

Anyway, we went out again today, in between the rain showers and the plague of flying Pekinese, and Dad is getting rather good, well, at least his dribbling isn't any worse than normal...............

xx Beau

Berkhamsted, Grand Union Canal

Gosh, it's posh round here.......Dads been to a place called the White Rose for some shopping, (the local people apparently call it Wait Rose, because they speak funny). The few bits of stuff he bought only cost him 1 arm and 1 leg, so I guess you don't have to use money here either.

Although it looks posh here, most folk seem to have tough-looking dogs called Staffy, Rotty and Keeta, most of them walk around with big chains around their necks, and with their sleeves rolled up showing lots of tattoos......the owners are pretty much the same as well.......

I guarded the boat whilst Dad and Mum went to look at a castle they had seen on a map, but when they got there it still hadn't been finished....I guess if they were buying the bricks from White Rose, they'd probably run out of arms and legs......

Got to go now 'cos Dad needs to top up his dongle, and I'm not sure that he knows where the funnel is..

xx Beau

Leighton Buzzard, Grand Union Canal

We've been out of touch for a couple of days because Dad couldn't get his dongle to work again...I don't know if its connected, but the dongle problem seems to happen when he's been making a lot of 'empties' the night before.................

Anyway, we went out on a 'nature ramble' yesterday; its nice to get out into the fresh air, and Dad needs to be exercised a couple of times a day or he'll seize up. Mums got a telescope thing on the shelf out the back that she got for Christmas, and she can look at all sorts of tiny things that she can't see with her normal glasses. So she was picking up stuff off the path to take back, like bits of feathers, leaves and dead bug things.
I found something that I thought was interesting; I had a quick roll in it so I could take it back with me. It actually smelled rather good, but obviously not to Mum, who said I had to stay out the back until I had dried off, which I rather think defeated the whole point of the exercise.

While we were out, I had to answer the call of nature, (as one does..), and Dad had to pick it up with the bag things that he always carries. (This ritual is always accompanied by him saying 'What have you been eating?'......a pointless question surely, when he's the one that puts it in my bowl!!). Anyway, whilst he was picking it up, a lady in a posh boat went past and said ' I didn't think people did that sort of thing anymore', Dad said that he hadn't, it had been me that had done it.........I couldn't quite hear what she said after that because she was busy driving her boat into the mud.

We'll talk again soon

xx Beau

Milton Keynes, Grand Union Canal

Phew!! what a scorcher......I'm not used to all this sunshine, spent most of the day tring to stay cool, (though I think I'm pretty cool anyway).
Dad was determined to keep cool by 'getting his legs out'...Mum told him not to because Milton Keynes has got laws against 'pendages' being displayed in public places. I'm not sure what a 'pendage' is, but Dads got two of them and apparently, they're best kept hidden.

Mum and Dad went shopping and left me in charge of the boat, for which I'm rewarded with a dried bicuit, designed to look like a sausage roll but isn't.
Dad came back with some bottles that he keeps behind his chair, and every so often he opens some and turns them into something called 'empties'...then he throws them away. A strange ritual, but it seems to make him happy, and he has a 'lie-in' the next day.

It was Dads turn to cook the tea, but I think he made such a mess of the kitchen last time, that Mum made him cook it outside. He started by filling a bucket with small black bits which he set fire to, and then he chopped up some meat and put that on top of the bucket as well.
After about 20 minutes he took the meat out of the bucket but it looked the same colour as the stuff he had put into the bucket before he set fire to it.
I'm wondering why he didn't just put the original black bits onto the dinner plates to start with....it would have been quicker, and Mum wouldn't have had to pinch some of my cooked chicken to go with the salad.

xx Beau  

Stoke Bruerne, Northants; Grand Union Canal

We've had a few windy days lately, and Dads driving hasn't been that good. We keep bumping into things, but Dad says that it doesn't matter 'because it needs painting anyway'. I'm not sure if he means our boat, or the ones he's been hitting.

One thing I have noticed is that the further we get away from Stratford, the bigger the dogs are. We went past a farm the other day where the black & white sheepdogs are so big that they are kept in fields. Mum said that they were freezuns, but it wasn't that cold out.......

The sheep round here don't seem to show me the respect I deserve either, time was that I could growl at them through a fence and they would run off taking their babies with them. I tried the old power trick the other day and they charged at the fence..........took me quite aback.

I'm either losing my touch, speaking the wrong language or there's something a bit more sinister happening; Dad always said that if all the sheep in England decide to swarm we'd be in trouble....and this could be the start.

I'll let you know

xx Beau

Buckby Bottom Lock, Grand Union Canal

Yesterday was pretty traumatic for such a sensitive soul; we had to go up some locks, which is OK, and I've done it before...Dad says its just like going up a watery staircase, very poetic, but I still don't like it much.
I normally have to stay on the boat and the sound of all that rushing water makes me want a wee, and I know that there won't be a p-mail stop until we've done the last one.

When we finally got back onto the flat, we started speeding up and I don't know what Dad was thinking of, but we headed at full speed into a big black hole that someone had made in the side of the hill. I've seen these things before, and I KNOW that trains come out of them ever so fast....
What would happen if we met one......
What would happen if one caught us up.......
What would happen if one tried to overtake on a corner, and there was another one coming........

I decided to sit inside and cuddled Mum, because I knew that secretly, she was as worried as I was.
The big black hole was very dark, it was damp, it smelled like Dads socks when he's been wearing his wellies, and it seemed to go on for ages.
Just when I thought that we were going to make it, a bright light came shining through the window, even with my eyes shut I could still see it, getting brighter and brighter, getting nearer and nearer, I could hear the noise getting louder and louder.........I knew that it was going to end here, in this dark, damp place that smelled of Dads socks, with so much of my life still unlived...
Blinded by the oncoming light, blood pounding in my ears.....all the past episodes of 'One Man and His Dog' flashed before my eyes, right back to the ones where Phil Drabble had hair....
Then I could hear a voice calling me from far away, echoing slightly...............
Beau!!... Wake up!! do you want to go out for a walk or are you going to lie on that bed all day??

xx Beau

Braunston, Grand Union Canal

Apparently, it's the first time that Dads turned right at this place....Mum said you can tell that by the way he hit the side when he parked the boat.
As usual, we're parked not far from a pub, which has pleased Dad because the sign says it does something called 2 for 1, and he's hoping that means more beer for less money.

We're surrounded by noisy sheep; there must be hundreds.... but am I allowed to play with them?.. not on your life.. I was born for this, I can tell.....there's more than enough to go round, and there's little ones too who can run ever so fast.
Dad said that if I got into the field, the farmer would shoot me, but I can't see that happening with all that lamb around to eat first....

Talking of which Dad and Mum are back from the pub with some scraps that were left over from the 2 for 1.
Dads quite merry....something about not being able to come to Braunston without getting pickled... he thinks that's a joke, but Mums not laughing.

Got to go and check on the dinner bowl

xx Beau

Flecknoe Fields, Grand Union Canal

Had a really good day yesterday, but Dad didn't......we were going along for ages and I really needed to stop to sort out some p-mail and leave some messages of my own. Dad said we had to keep going because we (he) wanted to get to a place called Long Itchington....(I thought that the vet gave me some cream for that a while ago). Anyway we finally got there and I could tell he was happy 'cos we'd managed to get a parking place quite near to another pub.
I got off the boat with Mum and we walked along past the pub and it was shut!!! A man on a boat with a dog like me, only much fatter, said that it had been closed since November last year, so I guess the chips would have been cold anyway.
Dad was grumpy for the rest of the day, but I cheered him up by taking him for a walk back the way we had come because I'd seen some Christmas decorations in the trees and bushes and although they were old, I thought that they looked quite pretty. They seem to have been made from plastic bags of all different colours, black, pink, green and some see-through, and all of them had little presents inside, so somebody had spent a lot of money just to make the towpath look festive.
The man who had his boat parked behind us had a big cockerel in a cage by the path, I don't know what he had it for but dad said it was how they did 'chicken-in-a-basket' round here, but I don't know what that meant.
Today wasn't such a good day 'cos we went past a woman who had three dogs like me (only fatter). They were tied to her waist with ropes and they seemed to be pulling her along. She said that she walked 80 miles a week with them so I don't know why they were so fat. She told Mum that I was a very nice looking Collie, but she thought that I had the looks of a bitch!!!! . For a start, I hadn't even said a word to her, and even if I had, there was no need for that sort of language, especially from someone who treats her collies like huskies.......

Radford Semele, Grand Union Canal

At last, we're back out into the countryside with all the smells and stuff to roll in that you just don't get in the towns. There was a particularly pleasant smell near one of the locks, but Dad knew what I was going to do and dragged me away before I had time to dab it behind my ears.......

Got into a bit of trouble today when I was off the boat....I heard a lot of screaming and shouting, and thinking that someone was in need of assistance, naturally went to help. I think that Mum was shouting something, but my ears were flat and I couldn't hear properly.
Anyway all was well, and apparently, nobody in the playground needed my help, so I went back.
Honestly, the look I got from Mum could have curdled my biscuits and gravy....you try and do a good turn and what do you get.???

We went through a place called Leamington today, and I was really confused; apparently, the people who live here are so poor that they can't afford dustbins and have to put all of their rubbish into the water. On the other hand they seem to be so well off that they can afford to throw perfectly good bikes, prams and mattresses into it too.
Dad didn't understand it either 'cos he kept on shaking his head and making the boat go backwards so that he could collect some more of it round the spinny thing and take it all the way to London. I think he's going down some sort of hatch tomorrow to make sure its all tied on nice and tight......

Must go know because I've just heard that its dinner time and all this fresh air has made me hungry.

XX Beau

Turners Green; Grand Union Canal

This is madness...........went outside to pick up my morning p-mail and post a couple of blogs, and its snowing sideways!! The only entertainment round here is barking at the sheep on the other side of the fence and even they are ignoring me because they have got their own sheepdog to play with. I met him this morning and he's a bit of a rough character, not well socialised like what I are.
Dad says we're cruising, but my instincts say its a pub crawl....day before last we stopped outside of a pub that used to be famous for its pies, but not any more. They had an alsation and a labrador, but I wasn't allowed to visit. Last night we stopped outside of a pub 'cos Dad said he couldn't drive any further,....... what's the betting that when we do get going again, it'll only be as far as the next pub?
Apparently, we're supposed to be heading for London; I don't know how many pubs there are along the way, but I've a feeling that I'm gonna be stuck on this boat for a while yet.

I'm going back to bed to curl up into a small pathetic ball.......going for sympathy and a biscuit.

xx Beau

Location: Wootton Wawen, Stratford Canal

Well, so much for the grand 'get-away-from-it-all'. Mum and Dad went out last night and Dad got 'Ruddled'. I'm not sure what it actually is, but its affected his balance, his head hurts, and he smells funny. It seems that he's not allowed to ask Mum for sympathy either, which seems to be a bit unfair as he doesn't look well.

Anyway, it appears that our adventure is on hold at least for today, which I don't really mind, because there is a plentiful supply of ducks that need sorting out, I've got a nice warm bed, and Mum got me a bone for being a good boy, which is more than can be said for Dad............. I didn't know owners could live in 'dog-houses' too!!

XX Beau

We've Gone...

I haven't been able to send messages for a while because Mum says that Dads had trouble with his dongle. Dad says that his dongle is just fine and is blaming it on the cold weather, Mum says its not been cold THAT long....anyway there is news to tell, so here it is.
Something was a bit wierd this morning.....early breakfast, no walkies down by the river, chained up like a dog to the fence outside the boat. Dads down the big metal hole thingy at the back playing with his dipstick (don't go there...). Mum says he's wound up like clock. There is talk of going away for a bit, but its SNOWING for heavens sake!!, and we're stuck in amongst 5 other boats that haven't moved for years.

More news:  Seems we are going, so I had to say goodbye to my mate Harley (the spaniel), from Black Pearl. We've promised to stay in touch, but the weather might have caused dongle trouble on his boat too.

Only 30 minutes into the trip, just getting my sea-legs, Dads already hit something made of brick, and who do I see coming down the towpath but my mate Harley, who's got his Mum to bring him to the locks to say a last tearful goodbye........what actually happened was that he jumped onto the back of my boat, went to the kitchen and finished off the pile of biscuits and gravy in my dish that I was saving for a late lunch......there is always something to learn in life, and todays lesson is: 'The spaniel leaving with gravy on his chin  may not have had tears in his eyes after all.'

We're Back!!!

Well, its been a while, nearly a year in fact since I managed to get the typing thing back off the parents, how they can spend so long doing stuff on it is beyond me...Dad says its to get rid of the Spam; but if that was the case, that would be down to me, surely........................anyway, its only a few days to go before I go on my hols with Mr & Mrs 'get-away-before-you-fall-in!!', then I can get back to some serious duck-bashing on the towpath. Watch out mallards.....Beau is back...............