Today was grrrrrreat! I caught my first rat! Sarah did not think it was great. She said it was 'gross Fozzie', in a very high and screechy voice that hurt my ears. A bit like that voice she uses when she says 'SYD THERE'S A COCKROACH IN HERE'. Women.
Anyway here's how I got the RAT! I was snuffling round in the bushes where I normally find baguettes. I am not supposed to go in there. Or eat baguettes. Anyway Sarah came to find me, and I turned round to look at her........ and I had a rat in my mouth! There are a lot of rat holes in those bushes and I like to put my long nose in them. I knew I'd get lucky one day. She made a big scream, and I was so startled that I dropped the rat on the floor. Then Sarah did another scream because.....the rat was not dead! He started to wander off. This made Sarah run quite fast. It was very funny. I got put on my lead then, and we had to go home. I was in a sort of daze all the way home thinking about that rat. I had to wash out my mouth when we got home. Sarah made me have a big drink of my water until all the rat taste had gone. And then I went to sleep and had rat dreams. Brilliant. I wonder if he'll still be there tonight.....? I have a feeling we might not be going to that park tonight though.
I have referred Sarah to Wikipedia....on there it says all about rats and why we Airedale terriers like to catch them. She needs to be educated that it is OK to let Fozzie catch rats. It's in my genes to catch rats! Have a look..........
''During the middle of the nineteenth century, regular sporting events took place along the Aire River in which terriers pursued the large river rats that inhabited the area. A terrier was judged on its ability to locate a "live" hole in the riverbank and then, after the rat was driven from its hole by a ferret brought along for that purpose, the terrier would pursue the rat through water until it could make a kill. As these events became more popular, demand arose for a terrier that could excel in this activity. One such terrier was developed through judicious crossings of the Black-and-Tan Terrier and Bull and Terrier dogs popular at the time with the Otter Hound. The result was a long-legged fellow that would soon develop into the dog we recognize today as the Airedale Terrier. This character was too big to "go to ground" in the manner of the smaller working terriers; however, it was good at everything else expected of a sporting terrier, and it was particularly adept at water work. This big terrier had other talents in addition to its skill as a ratter......''
Yesterday I hung out with Syd all day. It was great. We had 'man time' and we went mooching. Mooching is when you walk around and sniff things. You stay on your lead and go past the shops, and there are a lot of people who stop and rub you. You put your nose in their shopping, especially if they've got food and you have a good sniff. And you try and trip people up by weaving in around their legs. Syd talks to a lot of people because they ask about me and what kind of dog I am and how old I am. I am a cool dog of course - and I am nearly one. Oh yes, and then Syd has a burger, which I must not tell Sarah about. Anyway, we had fun all day but then it was spoiled of course as Sarah came home. We went to get her from the ferry. Whilst we were waiting, I heard someone say that dogs must not go on the ferry and secretly I was glad as it looked a bit wobbly on there. Mind you, if I did want to go on the ferry I would just go. Noone could stop me. We didn't go though yesterday, we got Sarah and I jumped on her white jacket with my dirty paws! You have to take your fun where you can get it. Then we went home and she made roast dinner and even though I was really tired I managed to keep my eyes open long enough to have some.
Off now for another snooze and more rat dreams. In my dreams, rats are always villains (like the Sherriff of Nottingham), and dogs (me) are always heros (like Robin Hood). Except I don't wear tights.