Off to Durban

We're off to Durban on vacation.  I was so excited when I saw mum pack up my stuff last night.  I can't wait to get to the sea again.  I tried not to disturb dad all night and even remained quiet through one of the worst thunderstorms this month.  He has to drive early in the morning and we all know how grumpy he can get when he has to wake up in the middle of the night.  But I know he was also just as excited and could not get any sleep too.

Mum's awake now, getting ready to for our trip, so I thought I'd quickly wish you all a great new year.  Hope you all have a fantastic PART-EEEE and celebrate 2010 in style.  It going to be a big year for all of us with the soccer world cup being held here in SA.

Bye for now.  See you all next year.

Lots of wags and licks

Sir Wag signing off in 2009.

Mayhem at 10 Primrose

I started the morning helping dad and Elliot dig a hole for the pond. After all, with all the digging that I have been recently doing, this is really a relatively small project for someone with my credentials. Dad and Elliot spent the entire day digging up this little patch - such amateurs. They eventually stopped just in time to entertain Boog and Lucy. And just as an added bonus, Uncle Rory turned up. I thought that he was in the Cape, but he came back early. Yippeee! He gives the best tummy rubs in the business.

It was a fine day for a swim, and Uncle Rory had his trunks and towel ready for action. Boog arrived and also thought that swimming was a fine idea. I'm not sure what all the fuss was about, but I just try to stay out of the labrador's way when he's having this much fun. He and Uncle Rory had real trouble keeping the water in the pool. Boog's dad looked on in horror as they splashed their way around.

Eventually Boog and Uncle Rory were all done swimming, and the mopping up operations had to begin. Boog seemed unconcerned about the mayhem he had just created. Lucy and I helped clean up.

It's Thunderstorm Season

The other night dad read us a bedtime story. It was about Chicken Little and his efforts to stop the sky from falling on his head. Frodo thought that it was a really funny story, but it freaked me out. I could not even concentrate on hearing the end of the story. I had bad dreams all night. I woke up in a cold sweat quite a few times that night and had to bark just to make sure all was OK in the house. To my relief dad came running out every time I barked loud enough. To make matters worse we had a thunderstorm that night too. I cannot understand how humans can remain so calm when the universe is about to come to such an abrupt end. Frodo tries to reassure me that it is just a story, and I should go back to bed. But I think this is serious stuff. Why else would the National Anxiety Centre actually have an annual award called the "Chicken Little Award"?

Frodo is recovering nicely. It's nice having him around. Mum and Dad still don't take him on our walks yet, but at least we get to play in the garden. It's almost holiday again. Mum and dad are going to take us to the beach again. This time Frodo and I are going prepared with a surf board. We get to visit Rio again. I hear he is not doing so well these days with those hips of his. Maybe we'll take some of Frodo's pills with us to help him out. The drugs are working wonders on Frodo. We going to take him for his checkup next week, and hopefully then he'll be allowed to run around and play with me again.

Dad has been planning a holiday project. He want to build us a koi pond in the garden. I can't wait to get some fish in there. I've already started digging.

Got to run now. Boog and Lucy are coming over to visit. Mum's been cooking all day, and Frodo and I have been helping. I took the clothes of the washing line for her. She did not seem very impressed, but I think she is just stressed that it's already late Sunday and she has go to work and leave us alone tomorrow.

Anyway, cheers for now. I got to go and prepare for Boog and Lucy's visit. They going to be here any minute now. The three of us will probably have to teach that labby to herd again. He just doesn't get it. Maybe we'll just play with the frisbee instead. He knows how to catch that - and I could pick up a few pointers from watching him retrieve too.

Woof