Blighty! You Mean Jolly Old England, eh what?

I  am learning all about my heritage. My people, ‘er dogs, come from England aka GREAT Britain…… there a not so great Britain? Like a just plain old regular Britain? I learned it is also called Old Blighty…and they talk funny. I wonder if the dogs bark funny over there? I wonder what a British accented bark sounds like?

The Romans used, uh, employed, my ancestors to guard their forts! That must have been a good job! Plus they probably got to eat Italian food all of the time YUM! They probably got to ride around in Ferrari chariots and in the side cars of the Roman Ducati’s, get to meet Sophia Loren’s ancestors dogs and listen to stories about “the old neighborhood”. Hey Wats amatta fo you!   …OK, now I want a canoli.

Oh, yeah, England…I’m an English mastiff, all bangers and mash eh guvnuh? Maybe my ancestors rode in Bently, Aston Martin, or Rolls Royce chariots? Maybe They had a Triumph with a side car?, and maybe they met some page six girls’ ancestors dog? Maybe they were the dogs of the manor?…I still want a canoli though.

So THATS where England is?

Life Lesson: You should know your heritage and be proud of it. Everywhere and everone has greatness to contribute to the rest of the world.

Dad’s Car is Shrinking!

 My dad has a VW, thats Volkswagen TDI Sportwagen. He likes it a lot. He likes it because he hardly ever has to put gas, er…Diesel into it, plus it handles great and he can still get it with a manual transmission. My dad says, “automatics—–Blah.”

  Anyway, I have found a serious design flaw with the car. As I get older the car seems to get smaller. Maybe because he got it wet? Maybe because he lets it out in the sun? Maybe a manufacturing defect? Those crazy Germans, maybe it is designed to also drink Red Bull….hmmm Red Bull paint job just like their F1 Team! naaaah, my dad will never go for it. He roots for Ferrari.

I remember when I was able to ride in the front seat; with my mom! Then It got to be only in the back but I could roam around. I could go close to the front in the back, or I could go to the “way back”, all the way by the rear hatch.  NOW I am lucky just to be able to lean down to get my head out the window……….and my but almost sticks out the other side!

Ah but riding in cars. One of life’s great joys. You head out in the onrushing fresh air, feeling the breeze, smelling all there is to smell, ears flapping like your wings. It is like you’re flying, but better ’cause you’re not high up’

And in the end you end up somewhere else!

Life Lesson: Stay off the phone! Use your directional signals! Stay out of the left lane unless you are passing someone! If you’re turning stay to the edge of the lane so other cars can get around you! Don’t almsot stop in the middle of turning ..accelerate and TURN! If oyu are lost and not sure where you are going, pull over and figure it out!

Happy Birthday Poppy!…Road trip!

 Sometimes you have to go the extra mile for the ones you love. It was poppys, (my dad’s dad) birthday today so we wanted to go say “Happy Birthday”.  But as usual there are also other things we had to do along the way.  First I had to get into the car, no easy task sometimes ’cause I don’t know where my dad wants to take me. Then we drive to Auto Tourismo Sport in Connecticut, ( New Milford). That is where my dads friends the “exotic car guys” hang out” … actually.

My dad wants to show me off and say “Hi” to them. It is a long car ride maybe an hour or more. When we get there I don’t want to get out of the car because it is a strange place, so I make my dad jump through hoops and coax me out with a lot of treats. Finally I brake down and get out for him, of course I make him give me a lot of treats to get me to go inside. The place is BIG, there are cars in the air, noise and the smell of tasty Italian leather mixed in with the gas fumes, oil smells, and exhaust. there are Alfas, Ferrari’s, Jaguars, Mercedes, and lots of other cars, (ok, I don’t care but my dad thinks it like a big toy box).they chit chat for a long time and I finally get comfortable on the floor…then we have to go.

After another long drive we end up at poppys new house. I get to smell around outside and get a good look at the garage and the basement.  Poppy is happy to see me, so is grandma except for the possibility of me drooling all over the place.  While in the basement I get to smell everywhere. So in my hunt I find an old natural sponge and boy does it smell like it nees to be pulled apart! So I oblige…untill I get caught and it gets taken away. No problem, I’ll continue my hunt for items needing to be chewed. along comes a cork, small but I am not above nibbling on smaller “adventures”. Other peoples [places have all sorts of stuff that I am looking to try. then THAT gets taken away from me too!

It seems they chit chat forever there also …and just when I am getting comfortable, guess what…we’re going to have to go again.

Another long drive home and boy am I tired and hungry. But it is home at last and somewhere comfortable and familiar. I can finally let my guard down, rest, eat , and feel safe.

Life Lesson: There is no place like home! , (Dorothy, …actually I think it was the Good Witch of the North)