Saving staffies

Today I rescued a white staffie with a cute grey patch over one eye... I shall set the scene...

On my way to my parents house I topped a rise in the rural road to see the backend of a staffie as he happily careered down the road. Worried that someone would hit him I stuck on the hazard lights and tail gated him (I hasten to add I was not being cruel not stopping the car and running after him... I can't do more than a quick shamble myself after a bad car accident). I don't condone the use of mobile phones when driving but made an execption on this occassion to make a desperate call to my parents for help.

The staffie pulled over down the drive way of some rural offices. I stopped the car and before I had even got the door open he was there with his slobbering kisses and wagging tail. He seemed so pleased to see me and easily let me get hold of him... one step closer to a rescued doggie!!
Next was the question of what to do with him, easy solution... just pop him in the boot. It was only when I was lifting him in that I realised that he was wet and his underneath was covered in mucky water. Now this might not sound like too much of a problem but I have a brand new very expensive 4x4!! But it was only the boot right... and I am getting a puppy in a couple of months.

Meanwhile my father turned up and as I was chatting to him I realised that the dog was hanging over the back seat grinning at us... in the time between me phoning his very surprised owners and them turning up to get him the following happened. He retracted the wing mirrors whilst trying to hump the gear stick, got muddy water and hair all over the seats and floor, licked the windows and got a huge smear of doggy drool all over my right boob... and you know what despite that all I drove off with the biggest smile!!

Another day of eating sugar

I really need to cut down on the amount of sugary goodness I am eating... I scored marks for resisting a tiffin slice when I went to costa coffee this morning but then this afternoon I have consumed a mini tub of ice cream, a calipo, four celebrations and the better part of a bag of onion rings (shame on me for this was a big bag). So this then leaves me sitting on the sofa feeling drained and exhausted. I know eating junk foods makes me lethargic and unhappy but sadly I seem unable to forgo the shorter term benefits. Every night I go to sleep saying 'never again' and every morning I stare at my bowl of alpen and start to plan how I can ruin the start of yet another hopeless diet.

I know that my problem on the whole is that I have very little to do with my time, especially now I have decided to cut down on the amount of money I am spending (partly because I have bought everything I could want!!). Eating nice food like cake gets me out of the house and is a plesant pass time... until I realise that for the past four years I have been wanting to shift my extra weight.

So once more for those in the cheap seats at the back ' Never again!!!!'... let us count how many hours I manage to resist this time....

The day of the ducklings

I was concerned today over the apperance of seven tiny ducklings on our local pond, it is rather late in the year to be starting a new family and the ducks on the pond, most of which are this years youngsters are a bunch of thugs. There is one budding new male in particular who can always be seen beating up some unsuspecting, and probably elderly, duck.

The ducklings in question are still at the stage where they bob around the pond like over excited corks and are scolded by their mothers for not getting out of the water with her... babies afterall need frequent naps. The cutest part though is where they attempt to get back into the water again... the baby will carefully position itself at the top of the cliff (or small concrete edge followed by a slope to us), it then waggles it's whole body before simply casting it's tiny body off the edge. The duckling then proceeds to bounce and slide down the slope before plopping into the water... a second later it bobs back to the surface again.

My other main worry when I arrived at the pond was the number of ducklings, my partner had totalled them at 8 last night (and you don't expect an accountant to be wrong about these things!) but this morning there were only seven minature blobs scurrying around. We are lucky enough to have a very low duckling mortality rate at the pond although the babies will run the twice daily risk of the main road, it never fails to bring a smile to my face to see a double decker bus stopped to allow mum to shepherd her babies across.

Nature, with the help of medcine and risk assessments is kind to us and it is easy to forget that for every pair of adult breeding ducks that when they die they will probably only leave a pair of surviving reproductive offspring. But then maybe this stable population structure is a good thing... if not we would be overrun with ducks.

Interesting fact: the collective term for ducks in water is a raft