Mum’s Story

Hello again dear anipals and welcome to Nutty’s Blog. Today I am being a little different as I am handing over (for one day only!) to Mum because she has a lovely story she would like to share with you all.

Even though I am a dog and speak only dachshund, Mum understands that I can connect with her energies and vibrations and this can be helped by the tone of voice. Therefore whether anyone thinks us weird or not I am proud to say that Mum tells me stories all the time; whispers them into my wee floppy ears she does and I don’t mind telling you it relaxes me completely and I am soon nodding off on her shoulder.

It’s a dog’s life indeed…

Till next time,

Love & leggies, Nutty x

 

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The Lady Who Was Not Afraid to Die

Once upon a time there was an old lady and as she grew older her three grandchildren (for children can be rather outspoken) would ask her whether she was afraid to die.

Instead of being shocked or angry, the wise old lady winked and pulled the children close. ‘Why would I be afraid,’ she asked with her twinkly eyes shining bright as they always did when she was starting to enjoy herself.

Thomas, the four-year-old, thought for a while ‘Well coz you are so old Gran,’ he finally said with his thumb jammed in the corner of his mouth.

‘That I am lad,’ Gran agreed ‘and does being old mean you have to be afraid?’

Thomas thought about that one. ‘No,’ he said slowly so that Gran understood he’d given her question some serious thought ‘no you don’t,’ he ended with finality.

Gran nodded and Thomas leaned in for a Gran-hug, giggling as she tickled him just the way he liked.

‘You Lynn,’ Gran drew her only granddaughter into the debate although thirteen-year-old Lynn was doing her best to sidle out of the room having deemed the question to be rude ‘do you think I should be afraid because I am old.’

‘You’re not old Gran,’ Lynn tried.

‘I am,’ Gran asserted ‘I’m 83. I had your Mum late in life and she had you late too. I am definitely old. Why there are some Great-Grans younger than me!’ Gran chortled at this although none of the children knew why it was funny.

‘OK you’re old,’ eleven-year-old Terry agreed ‘but I think dying is scary whatever age you are.’

‘I’m going to be scared to die when I’m old,’ Thomas asserted.

Gran laughed her high, tinkly laugh. ‘Nonsense,’ she said ‘and I’ll tell you why.’

‘Why?’ the three children couldn’t resist asking and once again the magnetic power of Gran’s stories brought them under her spell.

‘When you get to be 83 –‘Gran began

‘Like you,’ Thomas clarified.

‘Like me,’ Gran agreed. ‘Now if you are lucky enough to get to be as old as I am now then you won’t be afraid to die any more than I am – and I’ll tell you why,’ she rushed on seeing Thomas’ mouth open and one of his never-ending questions about to pop out ‘because I have more of my family on the other side than I do on this side.’

‘Side of what Gran?’

‘Side of life. This side – here, that side –‘

‘Dead,’ Thomas stated.

‘If you like, yes.’

‘You have more people dead than alive,’ Lynn said slowly s the realisation hit her.

‘Of course,’ Gran laughed ‘I have my Mum, my Dad, a sister and two brothers, dozens of uncles, aunts, cousins – oh and of course my own grandparents – two sets of them.’

‘And Papa,’ added Terry, remembering the grandfather his Gran loved so much.

‘And Papa,’ Gran smiled softly and her twinkly blue eyes grew watery.

‘When you die it will be a party!’ Thomas whooped ‘paaaartaaaaaay!’

‘Ssh Tom don’t say that,’ Lynn was shocked.

‘The child is quite right,’ Gran agreed with Thomas and ruffled his hair making it even messier than it already was ‘there will be a party – a homecoming party – on the other side.’

‘Paaaaaaartaaaaay!’ Thomas screamed again jumping up and down like a spring lamb.

Gran patted her hair. ‘Oh yes I am looking forward to that paaaaaartaaaaay!’ the children looked at one another in stunned disbelief – as much as Gran’s fairly accurate rendition of the word party as much as the content of what she was saying.

‘You’re not sad then – to be old I mean?’ asked Terry.

‘Not a bit of it son.’

‘Will you miss us?’ asked Lynn.

‘Of course I will,’ Gran smiled ‘but you see I have had a lot more years missing them and it would make me so happy to see them all again.’

‘’Specially Papa,’ Thomas agreed wisely.

‘Especially Papa.’

‘Ok then,’ Thomas summed up ‘I think it will be best if we are all happy when you die Gran then you won’t need to be sad leaving us when you are going to meet the other ones – on the side – in life – who are dead – I mean-‘

‘I understand perfectly,’ Gran laughed as if she was delighted with the whole world and everyone in it ‘now who’s for some juice and cake?’

‘Paaaaaaaartaaaaaay!’ cried Thomas.

 

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Pictures from My Holiday

Hi Anipals – we had a wonderful time in the Lake District, quite possibly the most DOG FRIENDLY place in the UK. Although the weather wasn’t brilliant (Mum had to buy woolly hats and gloves in Windermere – and I got a new TOAT – gads) we managed to get out and about and enjoyed it all the same.

Hope you enjoy my pics.

Till next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

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Me, Mum and horses (too shy too look at camera methinks, the horses that is not us)

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Me and Dad wondering which way to go (no surprise there)

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The long and winding road…

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Come on Mum and Dad!

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New TOAT – grr – although to be fair it was raining

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My displeasure continues

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Driving everyone crazy with cute

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PLEEEEEEZE

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Thanks Dad!

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FREEDOM!

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A bit of paw raising with Mum

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Me and my wee stick

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Me and my big stick

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Daffodil inspection

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Further investigation required

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Thanks Cumbria!

MUM – Step AWAY from the Knitting Needles!

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Words fail me…

Till next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

Aunty Hec’s Treasure

Dear Nutty

Even though I am not an anipal I hope you will find it within the depth of your kind little daxie heart to help a human. As you know I have recently lost my beautiful little rabbit, Treasure. Treasure was indeed a treasure in so many ways and I know you will understand when I say there was a special bond between us. I know too Nutty that unlike many humans who really ought to know better, you would never make fun of a loving bond between human and any kind of anipal.

I miss wee Treasure so much Nutty and when I see his empty cage and there is only space in what was once our night-time routine together, it all makes me very sad indeed and I wonder if you have any wise advice for me and for others who have also lost a dear anipal friend.

Aunty Hec

Dear Aunty Hec

Although I did not know Treasure for the loving little creature he was, I can feel the love you have for him in the sad words of your letter. Yes you are right there are many grieving humans every day who mourn the loss of a dear anipal but, fearing being laughed at and not taken seriously, they tend not to allow their grief due process, bottling it up inside until it makes them more sad or even ill. This is an awful situation for any human to be in.

We anipals do not have this pawblem because we simply do what comes naturally without worrying what the rest of the world may think. Of course Aunty Hec I understand that humanity is not as evolved as anipals, at least in this sphere, so I suggest some bereavement counselling. No shaking of the head now. Animal bereavement counsellors do exist and you will probably find one closer than you think.

It has always been my belief (which I share with the anipal community in general) is that when we die (horrible word Aunty Hec, coz we don’t actually die we just leave our bodies behind; same as humans) we travel to a wonderful place called RAINBOW BRIDGE which is a heaven especially created by DOG for anipals and it is here you will find all types of anipals big and small all waiting for those we loved before to come and join us.

Little Treasure is at the Bridge right now Aunty Hec, running free and in pawfect health, kicking his legs and munching on the scrummiest greens with plenty of friends to play with. Don’t worry now because he will stay there quite happily until you too are called and you will come together again at RAINBOW BRIDGE.

Any human furriends who read my bloggy and who may also be suffering the loss of a dear anipal this message is for you too. Loyal in death as we were in life, any anipal who loved you will be patiently waiting at the Bridge so when it is your time to pass over you need never fear – just reach out your hand and the furry paw you loved in life will place itself in your palm again and you and your beloved companion will cross over the RAINBOW BRIDGE, together again but furever this time.

DOG blessings.

Till next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

Aunty Hec's Treasure 2 Aunty Hec's Treasure RIP Treasure (waiting at the Bridge)

 

 

The Politics of a Dachshund

Dachshunds are not generally known for being political animals but there are times in life when one feels  empawssioned enough to want to speak out and for me this is one of those times.

I am only be a little dog but I do understand that everyone has opinions, feels pain, love and joy and so too do we anipals. The only difference between us and you is that we have no voice.

I have Mum and Dad, people who love me enough to speak out for me but on behalf of those creatures less fortunate I feel compelled to take pen to paw and write these words.

Whether you are biped, quadruped, hexapedes or any other type of pedes I ask you now to RAISE THE PAW OF AWARENESS.

RAISE A PAW for horses forced to give up their lives for the sake a day at the races.

RAISE A PAW for our brother beagles many of whom live lives of unconscionable pain and suffering in the name of beauty.

RAISE A PAW for our deep sea cousins the whale, the dolphin and seal whose lives are in daily peril due to the exploits of mankind.

RAISE A PAW for the apes and monkeys who, by dint of their close relationship to humanity, suffer gross cruelty in the name of medical cures.

RAISE A PAW for those gentle giants the elephant, the rhino and the walrus along with so many others who suffer unimaginable pain as parts of their bodies are torn off and they are left alone to die an agonising and uncomprehending death.

RAISE A PAW for dogs and cats with the misfortune to have been born in less evolved nations who believe it is right to build factories in which they steal the fur from our bodies – more often than not when we are still alive. Imagine that horror if someone did that to you.

RAISE A PAW to all creatures who are suffering right now as their poor bodies are stolen, torn apart and experimented upon.

It is my belief that our world will never progress until humanity can recognise that there is of GOD in all creatures. Not only does GOD dwell in man but in all living beings.

If this is not so then someone please explain to this little dog why the same life force which is present in you is also present in me and when that life force withdraws the result is the same: death. Death, that is, of the body not of the soul.

Our souls live on as do yours and the only difference I can see between we anipals and you humans is only one of intellectual progression.

Please therefore be mindful of all creatures and do not do to us what you would not do to one another for in essence we are all the same; living beings on our own journey.

Till next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

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To the World from a Dachshund

If I could speak, these words I would say

To the people of the world today

All life is previous and we all revolve

Through kindness and love let this earth evolve

Till next time. Love & leggies, Nutty x

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My Life with Dad in Pictures

It’s no secret that I have the best Mum and Dad in the world but you may not know anipals that Mum and Dad are not experienced at being owned by a dachshund. Indeed no, in fact I am not only their first ever dachshund but the only doggicles they have ever been owned by so bearing this in mind it is no wonder I am so proud of them and all the time they spend in my training classes.

So dear old Dad even though I do poke gentle fun at you in these bloggys of mine, please know I love you very much and appreciate everything you do for me.

Just for you Dad is our life together in pictures. Enjoy.

Until next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

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Thanks Dad – love you – *paw bump* xxx

Mum Sez

Anipals who regularly read my bloggy will know that I usually use impeccable English. You may therefore be forgiven for being innocent of the fact that dogs in general and dachshunds in particular and very bad spellers and in fact we have our own language developed in an effort to bridge the gap between human and dog talk. So far this seems to be working reasonably well (please see my Twitter account @Nutty_Boom_Boom for further examples of dachshund speak).

However since this blog is compiled of a series of Mum’s sayings I feel it is only right to set them down exactly as they came to my large floppy ears. If you find yourself struggling with the language please do persevere and it will become easier. If this is successful I may well write more bloggys in my own language thereby giving my secretary (er Mum) less translation work to do.

Here we go then:

Mum sez no peeps kan wook bootifool by waring cosmetics made from da pain and blood of anipals.

Mum sez ware doos TOAT in a koly kold weatha to stop dooselficcus detting a chill.

Mum sez always be niccicles to peeps coz doo mite be da onliest furson dey sees dat hole daze.

Mum sez be tolerant wif fings wot doo duzn’t likey (like TOATS and cats me finks) coz won daze doo mite needs deir help.

Mum sez all anipals is bornded ekwal and me finks she inkloods human beans in dis.

Mum sez doggices wespond to we’s environment an so if we is brot up bad den we behaves bad – just like children. Not dere folt – not we’s folt.

Mum sez no one wuvs me’s more than hers sept maybe’s DOG (me beweives her).

Mum sez if she has to leaf me’s at home alone it is only becoz she can’t take me wif her to a sertain place.

Mum sez she will always do her’s besticcles to involve me in evafing coz that is wot maykes me’s happy.

Mum sez me is her wee blessing.

Me sez Mum is myne.

Until next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

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Me and me’s Mummicles

No Exit

Dear anipals – the following story was written by my human Papa (in Scotland papa is grandfather) who passed OTRB long before I was born but has had such an influence on the lives of his family and my Mum (his daughter) especially that I understand he is an important part of my doggy life too.

Papa dabbled in short story writing when he was a young man and this is one of the two stories which have survived him.  Papa’s first story, The Killer, was published on my blog a few days ago. We hope you enjoyed it and will read No Exit in honour of my lovely Papa. Mum says Papa wrote this story with his own Dad (my Mum’s Papa) in mind as in his younger days he earned his living as a prizefighter.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

No Exit

He came out of his corner knowing he could beat this man easily.  He had fought many fights, both in and out of the ring, he had the quiet confidence that comes with experience and knew he could put his opponent away in the first, and this kid who faced him with a confident smirk knew this too.  But he also knew something else – that he dare not.

It was the old story of a fairly good professional boxer just past the right age for the ring and now just had the breaks to get to the top.

Oh he was good enough to give the fans their money’ worth or to change the other fellow’s opinion in a bar brawl but just not championship material, and he knew it.  He also knew he hadn’t many more fights left in the ring, it just took a couple of more shows like that one last month when he had to throw in the towel because he couldn’t land his knockout punch and his legs couldn’t go the distance.  That was always the first sign when a boxer couldn’t go the distance.

He carried the kid through the first round wiping the smirk off his face by a few good solids to the mouth just to keep the fans happy and to show the kid he could put him away anytime he liked.

At the end of the third round his manager leaned over the ropes and said ‘What the hell are you playing at?  Look at that fellow’s face.’  He looked.  It was badly battered from his continuous jabs to the nose and mouth and one of his eyes had started to close.  ‘What are you playing at?’ he repeated.

‘He’s too damned cocky,’ said Malloy ‘anyway I’m not supposed to go down until the sixth and I got to make it look good so mind your own business.’

‘Don’t get smart with me brother,’ the manager sad ‘if you don’t’ dive my neck is out too and I like my face the way it is and not the way it will be if you slug this bum by mistake.  You know as well as I do that the Syndicate don’t take excuses.’

The bell went for the fourth and he danced out to meet his now wary opponent who was no longer smirking.  Jim, his manager, was right of course thought Malloy.  The Syndicate, the biggest bookmaking racket in town, had spread plenty on this kid to win and they were paying him more than he earned in five fights to dive to this kid.  He knew what would happen to him if he won, accident or otherwise, but he just didn’t like this blue-eyed boy to be so sure about it.

What was he being so high and mighty about?  He’d dive in the sixth as arranged and maybe even do a couple more fights for them if the money was good then he would quit the racket for good; he’d never make champ now anyway.

The kid came out fast in the sixth and he made out he was handing out a lot of punishment although the older man took most of it on his arms and gloves, but he got careless and the kid saw a chance and belted him way down low in his belly.  He dropped to his knees.  This was no dive, this was for real.  The kid had hurt him but it was a foul blow.  In the front of the mist of pain there was the red mist of anger.  It was bad enough to take a dive to this green punk but for the kid to think he could actually put him away foul or no, this was too much.

He rose and tore into the kid, battering him all over the ring.  He loved it, the crowd loved it, this was a flash of the old Mike Malloy.  Right to the body, right to the mouth then that wicked left hook to the already cut eye.  The kid staggered across the ring with no idea where the punches were coming from.  Mallow was in to win again, not just to be a stepping stone to this man’s way to the top.

The kid was down.  4 – 5 – 6 – he looked over at his own corner and saw his manager’s ashen face, then he remembered – 8 – 9 – the kid was groggy but he was rising.  How stupid can you get?  Now Malloy had to get a man who was out on his feet to put him down for the count before the bell and he reckoned the round was about halfway through by now.  He went into a clinch ‘that was just to show you how it’s done kid,’ he said ‘now make it look good and put me away.’  The battered lips opened and the one good eye glared at him hatefully.  ‘I’ll put you away all right Malloy don’t you worry about that,’ the kid snarled.

The referee broke the clinch and Mike swung a lazy right that wouldn’t have knocked out a fly, just for show and then he watched in stupefaction as the kid grinned at him, keeled over and lay quite still.

Mallow stared at the kid and felt the sweat break out cold all over his body.  The kid was shamming, anyone could see that.  3 – 4- -5 – he ran over to the referee and frantically tried to appeal to him but the ref either couldn’t hear him for the cheers and howls from the delighted fans or he didn’t want to hear.  Of course, Mike thought that’s it, he was in on it too and now he is as scared as I am.  Mike backed away in horror 8 – 9 – 10 out!

They dragged the kid out of the ring and Mallow went back to his now empty corner.  No manager, no seconds, nothing.  But if he hurried he could het changed and out while there were still plenty of people pushing through the exits, but quick as he was the stadium was quite deserted when he came back through and headed for one of the three exits.  Only the ring lights were left on, the rest of the stadium was in darkness and out of the shadows a man stepped up to block his way to the exit and something flashed in his hand.  Mallow backed away glancing at the second exit, only to see exactly the same thing.  He ran back to the centre of the stadium and round the outside of the ring till he could see the third and last exit and his heart sank as he saw yet another man walking down the aisle towards him.

He did the only thing that was left for him to do.  He jumped into the ring and felt naked beneath the big arc lights.  His clothes were soaked with sweat and the fear was a solid thing building up inside him.  As he peered into the surrounding gloom screaming and shouting ‘Come on then and get me.  I’ll show you how it feels to get in the ring and face Big Mike Malloy.  Come on.  Come on.’  His hysterical voice echoes in the empty darkness but his only reply was the pad-pad-pad of soft soled shoes coming nearer and nearer.

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In Loving Memory and of Happiness Never Forgotten

Alexander McCallum (1934 – 2011)