I took this picture of Ranger this week, and I thought that with the addition of a little text it would be perfect for the Saturday Pet Blog Hop.

In this house there are many dog beds to choose from, and I think he has failed to get his whole self on to each and every one of them at some point or other. This dog is a master Bed Failer.

Of course, what he likes best of all is to fail to get onto two beds at once. But Sid, being a tolerant sort of chap, just … makes room.

Of course, there are times when Ranger’s double bed fail is so spectacular that there is no room for Sid on either of them. When that happens, Sid is a whole lot less than impressed.

Sadly, I don’t have a picture of that. I’m usually laughing too much.

For this week’s Saturday Pet Blogger hop, I give you Ranger’s silly ears.

I don’t know if you can see very well in this short video, but as he was walking, with his ears up like satellite dishes, the tip of first one, and then the other, was flopping over backwards at each step.

Of course, when he stops, they both flop forward.

And at other times – such as when he’s trying to work out what on earth that woman is doing with his buddy in all that water – they look quite normal!

Well. It makes me smile.

Please join in, if you’d like. The rules are on the Pet Blogger hop main page (use the link above), but basically they’re pretty standard. Add your post to Mr Linky, and be sure to link back to mention ‘Saturday Pet Blogger hop’ and link back to the original blog.

Well, it surprised me! Not sure about the dogs…

I was taking the little doggies for their evening walk yesterday, and it was dark. I dunno about where you live, but here we have those horrible sodium lights which just seem to turn everything a sickly yellow-brown colour without actually shedding much in the way of actual light, so it was pretty gloomy.

Anyway.

There I was walking the dogs, and – since the outing was for their benefit – letting them sniff at this and that and pee up things* and all, and there is this one hedge where they nearly always spend a few minutes reading the pee-mail. I expect it serves as the local doggy newsagent, or something. And then it dawned on me that I’d been standing there for quite a few minutes, and the dogs still had their noses in the hedge, so I took a step towards them and …

‘MRRAAAOOOOOWWW!!!’

Well. It made ME jump! Not so the dogs, who still had their noses stuck in the hedge closely observing (as it turned out) a cat. A very vocal cat. A cat who was tired of being observed by two very large and curious dogs and was issuing a serious threat in Classical Feline.

Clearly the dogs don’t speak the lingo, so it was up to me to interpret.

‘Come on chaps’, I said, gently pulling on the leads. ‘Unless you want to get your eyes scratched out’.

And they came instantly. Suspiciously fast. Almost as if – dare I say – they were just waiting for a reason to leave without unseemly and undignified haste.

‘I was just ‘splaining to Ranger …’ said Sid, hopping rapidly up the road behind me, and not looking back.

‘Yes, but what IS it?’ demanded Ranger. ‘Looked quite int’resting to me. Smelled funny though .. ‘

‘Trust me, you don’t want it’ I told him, firmly. ‘They bite and they scratch’.

‘OK’, Ranger said, tucking himself between me and Sid. ‘Anyway, you know I don’t like fluffy toys. Especially if they have sharp bits!’

Tonight we walked by that same hedge again. I half-expected them both to pull over towards it to see if the cat was still there, but no. They studiously ignored it and passed without a glance.

But I did find the cat stuffie Ranger was given for Christmas later, tossed out of his bed with half its tail missing.

I blame Sid. Remember the octopus?

* Not people’s cars, or flower beds, or rubbish bins, obviously. People can show a deplorable lack of understanding about such things.

I’m a soft touch when it comes to my dogs, and I know it. Their comfort and wellbeing is important to me and I take pains to consider it, though not to the point of letting them get away with running the household – because that would be bad for them as well as for us.

So, when I see someone walking their small dog on an extending lead, and striding out with absolutely no thought for the length of the dog’s legs or the needs of his bladder, I am appalled. I mean, why get a dog? And having got one, what is the point of taking it for a walk if you’re not going to let the poor thing pee?

I followed a young woman today for several hundred yards along the road. During that time her dog attempted to pee three or four times, only to get to the point of lifting his leg and managing to get out a quick squirt before she reached the end of the leash and he was yanked off-balance by the neck and had to stop peeing and gallop to catch up.

My dogs were watching this with great interest, partly because it was a small, fast moving dog, and secondly because his progress was so erratic. They behaved themselves very well, though I did cross the road and have a go at catching up so that I could ask her if she had any idea her dog wanted to pee.

Unfortunately I failed, because she was walking so fast and we were quite a way behind, but it’s a pity. I might also have asked her if her dog peed in the house and if she ever wondered why that could be. Anyway, soon, she turned off our road and disappeared, and we continued on our way.

Then both Sid and Ranger got interested in the same spot in a likely-looking hedge and jointly decided to pee on it, and feeling faintly smug, I stopped to let them. I had to wait for them to sort themselves out, because Ranger has this thing about burying his head and neck in the foliage and doing a 180 degree turn before he can possibly relieve himself – I’m trying to train it out of him because it can be very inconvenient, but he’s had nine years being allowed to pee like this so it’s taking time. Meanwhile, we manage as best we can.

So, I’m standing there trying to keep the leads untangled and Sid a little way back because I know what Ranger’s like, when ..

THUNK! Yelp.

In his frantic gyrations, trying to get his body caressed by the leaves and his pee on exactly the right twig, Ranger head-butted Sid hard enough for me to hear the impact of their skulls. And it was Sid who yelped, by the way – Ranger didn’t even seem to notice what he’d done!

So, is it worse to be a small dog unable to pee properly because you’re yanked off your legs by a stupid insensitive owner each time you lift a leg? Or is it worse to be a large three-legged dog who is head-butted by his stupid insensitive companion and who has a sensitive but stupid owner who seems unable to stop it happening?

I think Sid might have an opinion.

If only he could talk!