Category Archives: George speaking

George the Versatile Blogger

I’ve never though people would think to associate the term ‘versatile’ with our blog, so you can imagine my surprise to find that we’ve been awarded the Versatile Blogger Award by one of our favourite bloggers, Sue at Greyhounds CAN Sit. Thank you so much, Sue, we’re honoured and happy that you like us enough to include us on your list.

Since yesterday, when we found out about it, George has been walking around the house all proud and full of himself. He says that, out of the two of us, he’s the one who deserves the award the most, since it is his blog and it’s him who has to look cool in all the photos, and put up with the (sometimes embarrassing) stories I’ve been telling about him. OK, there you go, George… It’s all yours.

This award comes with a few rules, which include sharing 7 things – hopefully interesting – about yourself that your readers might not know, and passing it on to 15 other bloggers. Since George is so keen to take the credit, I’ve decided to let him do the honours of compiling a list of interesting facts about himself.

Brace yourselves, ladies and gentlemen, I give you…George, the Versatile Blogger!

Hiya, everybody, I’m so glad that I’ve got the chance to talk to you again. Good thing this award came along, otherwise it would have been impossible to get Mum away from the computer so that I can do some typing myself.

First of all, I’d like to thank Beryl for convincing her mum, Sue, to include me on the award list. I love you, babe!

Mum said I’ve got to tell you 7 interesting things about myself, and begged me to say something about her, too. Because I’m a nice guy (and she threatened that there won’t be any more liver treats in her pockets), I’m going to dedicate fact no. 1 to her.

Fact no. 1 – Mum loves yellow more that any other colour. She says it makes her happy…So I chose the yellow award, just for her.

Fact no. 2 – I was born completely blue, but my fur (apart from my ears and face) changed to fawn as I was growing up. Mum sometimes jokes (?) that she’s going to send me back because I’ve tricked her and she wouldn’t have picked me if she’d known … I think that’s a bit unfair, a dog can’t control the colour of his fur, can he? Besides, Mum seems to forget that I picked them

Fact no. 3 – I really like having a big (human) sister. She plays with me, cuddles me, and gives me titbits from her plate. She’s especially generous with chicken, I don’t know why, but I’m not complaining. None of my litter brothers and sisters have gone to families with children, and I feel sorry for them. I consider myself lucky, my life is a lot more exciting than theirs.

Fact no. 4 – I love playing rough games with Dad. It’s all I ever think about (except for liver cake…and bones…and Brianna’s toys…and that pesky pigeon in the front garden that Mum’s always moaning about). I think Dad is obsessed with playing, too, as he can’t settle down at night until we’ve had our game of I’ll show you who’s the man dog around here. I usually let Dad win, because I quite like him and I don’t want him to sulk.

Fact no. 5 – I like sniffing and I like rolling in smelly things (it’s like putting on deodorant, really). My all-time favourite is fox poop, especially when it’s nice and fresh. Since we live close to a nature reserve, there are a lot of foxes around here and a lot of fox poop. Something I used to celebrate … But not anymore. Mum and Dad have ruined it for me. They’ve never been too keen on fox poop for some reason, and have always been quick to give me a bath every time I rolled in it. So I’ve decided not to bother with fox poop anymore, it’s not worth the hassle that comes with it.

Fact no. 6 – I hate baths. I really, really do. I hate them so much, that I’ve even given up rolling in fox poop just to avoid having to go through the ordeal of being washed with shampoo that ‘smells lovely’. Yuck! See Fact no. 5 above.

Fact no. 7 – I don’t really like other dogs, and I especially don’t like it when they come over to me uninvited. I never go to them, so why can’t they leave me alone? I play with my dog mates that I’ve grown up with and with whom I’ve got a good relationship built on mutual respect. I think that’s enough. I don’t need to meet or make friends with the entire dog population, do I? After all, I am half-human, so I can’t hang out with dogs all the time, it’s bad for my image. Especially since some of them are really rough, if you know what I mean.

There are many other interesting things that I’d like to tell you about me. But Mum says 7 is enough, and that I should save the rest in case someone else gives us an award. I suppose I’d better listen to her…So I’ll hand over to Mum again. I hope I did well and didn’t bore you too much. Woof!

Hmm…Thank you, George.

It’s time to move on to the most exciting part, which is passing the award on to other bloggers whom we love. George and I are in complete agreement on who our blogging friends are, so compiling the list below wasn’t difficult. Every single blog(ger) on the list is brilliant, special and unique in their own way, and I’ve learnt a lot from each of them.

So here are our nominees, in no particular order:

According to Gus

Balladeer’s Blog

Graceful Leadership

Your Daily Bailey

Rescued Insanity


Oscah Baby

Midaeval Maiden


Happy Bark Days

Tales and Tails

Kame and Kroten

Vizsla Inspiration


How Sam Sees It

I know some of you have already received this award at some point. I’m sorry guys, but George and I love you too much to leave you out. I hope you don’t mind! However, I did leave out a few of my favourite blogs, simply because I know they, too, have received this award from Sue this weekend. If you visit Sue’s blog – which I hope you do – you’ll see who they are.

Congratulations to you all!


Filed under George speaking

Nasty Boy, George!…

Who? Me?

Stop spreading bad rumours about me, mum!


Filed under George speaking, Photo diary

Memories of a Bone Encounter

Hiya, guys, George here making a one-off appearance as a writer on the blog. I’m really excited that mum allowed me to do my own thing for once. I have been helping her with ideas and stuff like that since the very beginning, but never before has she trusted me with the actual writing. She’s so controlling, really, she always says that my English is not good enough. Yeah, right, look who’s talking. Her Dog is much worse than my English and I’m not moaning about it.

Anyway, mum noticed how upset I was to hear some people say that I am just a pretty face, and decided to give me a chance to prove them wrong. So here I am, trying to make the most of this opportunity by talking about a subject I love dearly. Have you guessed it already? Of course you have, it’s what all of us, dogs, dream of day and night: bones!

A couple of days ago I read about how my friend Little Miss Maple was introduced to her first marrow bone. Oh, what an exciting time for her! Reading her post made the memories of my first ever ‘bone encounter’ wash over me like a tsunami. I don’t think I’ll ever forget my first bone. Well, it wasn’t a real bone … I mean, a big one … it was a chicken wing. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s still technically a bone and that’s what I’ll call it. And it was still a great experience.

No, that's not my first bone. Mum wasn't so obsessed with her camera back then. I asked her to take this photo yesterday morning to go with my post. Planning ahead, you see.

Like Maple, I didn’t really know what to make of it. So I sniffed it and worked out straight away that it was something edible. It smelled meaty, so I thought a lick won’t hurt. So I licked it. It was soft, smooth and cold. Chickeny. But it didn’t break apart into small pieces like the food I was used to. So what is a dog to do in this situation? I thought really hard about what to do next. I picked it up gently with my teeth and dropped it back on the grass (several times), to assess its weight and see what it can do. Nothing. Then I dragged it across the garden, to see what it can do. Nothing.

So I thought to myself that I’d better bury it somewhere and leave it for later. Just to see what happens. I found myself a lovely spot in my mum’s flower bed and started digging a little hole. Mum will tell you it was the entrance to a huge tunnel to China, but it wasn’t really. It was just a tiny hole, only big enough for my chicken wing. And my ball. And half of my own body. But I only buried the bone. And the ball.

Then I went in for a little nap, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the bone. What if it rots away by the time I wake up? What if the earthworms start eating it before me? Or, even worse, what if another dog comes into my garden, digs it out and steals it? I couldn’t bear the thought so I rushed past Brianna (almost knocking her over) and into the garden. I dug my bone out in a flash. It came out a bit dirty, but somehow the dirt had added to its taste. And texture. So I took a deep breath and took my first bite. With my front teeth. That was a bad idea, as the bone was hard. Luckily, I’m a clever boy so I worked out that I had to use my scissor teeth (like in the picture). And it worked! Oh, the delight of those first 5 minutes of gnawing on a bone will never be forgotten!

I did have to stop half-way through, as I got really thirsty. Because I knew that the trip to my water bowl and back was going to take me 10 very long seconds, I thought that maybe it was a good idea to bury the bone again. So that the other dog can’t steal it.  So I started to dig a hole. A new one to keep my bone fresh. But mum wasn’t impressed and stopped me before I got the chance to finish the job. This unexpected hindrance left me facing a desperate situation. Desperate situations call for resolute decisions. So I decided to eat the remaining half of my bone so that I’d have nothing else to worry about.

That’s how it all started for me. I read that Maple was much neater and quicker than me in dealing with her bone. I wonder why that is? Maybe girls are different to boys after all.

Anyway, almost three years and hundreds of bones later, I consider myself a bit of an expert on the issue of bones, hard or soft, big or small, you name it. I have perfected my eating technique and am ready to share my knowledge with anyone interested. But not now, mum says I’ve already written too much and it’s time to go.

So it’s good-bye for now, friends. I hope you liked my post and will tell my mum. Then she might let me write a post again sometime in the future. Once I’ve had a rest. A long one, ’cause this blogging business is tought. I don’t know how you guys do it. Woof!


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Filed under George speaking