Monday, 2 June 2014
Sunday, 10 November 2013
Visit alfiedog.com (see above) and read two stories by me Anthony Farmer in latest list of publications.
If you enjoy reading Short Stories you will be spoiled for choice; stories can be downloaded for a few pence.
DO IT YOURSELF is a macabre story about an ancient Welsh hill farmer who is determined 'they' won't take him away
and put him in a home.
HE THINKS HE SMELLS FOX is a story about a young man who becomes a panther.
I found the site when we made space in our lives for Alfie. I couldn't believe the coincidence.
I hope you enjoy the Short Stories on alfiedog.com
This is our Alfie enjoying life to the full, approaching this 6th month birthday with gusto.
Friday, 13 September 2013
Alfie Wagster is 18 weeks old today and steaming into the 6 month milestone.
You can only have the merest inkling of how much I've had to resist clogging my blog with pictures and antics of our loveable scruff-bag; I spared my readers, until now.
Two significant events happened within minutes of each other this morning.
1. Alfie cocked his leg to have a pee for the very first time. Up until today he did it like a bitch! He's a DOG
2. At the sound of the letter flap in the front door plopping a stack of dead trees in the form of fliers on the mat, Alfie let out a bark so deep we both jumped out of our skins! He looked a little confused too. He rarely barks and until now it sounded like a glove puppet....
Maybe this signals the beginning of the end of the chewing?
So now I'm going to kill you with dripping water torture by Haiku; one at a time.
So here goes:
Throw the thing, throw it
I'm ready to fetch it now!
It's gone already?
Saturday, 10 August 2013
Warning: Pictures of puppies doing things in different places.
Proceed at your peril. You have been warned
Puppy Walking Saturday morning (compulsory)
Off you go, no overtaking on the inside.
Pass the treat, no hands!
Pooped. Resting on a septic tank
Pathfinders, riddled with horse droppings. Yum
Sunday, 28 July 2013
This week Alfie's been venturing into the big world for the first time on foot, to meet people and other dogs, to sit by the river just beyond our house, sniff the grass and watch the ducks and to frolic in the long grass of the meadow he can see from the kitchen window.
Yesterday we broke new ground with our woolly bundle of fun.
He went in the crate in the back of the car for the first time not going to the vet for a jab.
He was not happy but our destination was Odda's Chapel at Deerhurst only 3/4 miles from home and we wanted to get into his head the idea of a car ride ending in something interesting.
We explored the ancient monument, the beginning of Alfie's architectural history instruction, walked up a track to the old oak where we pitched the blanket and allowed Alfie to explore, smells mostly.
Here's some pics of our visit:
Alfie having a nibble of Lynne's hat....
in he hollow of an ancient oak.....
getting used to the big outside
as a brave explorer venturing forth...
free at last from Lynne who's guarding the rug...
Dog and collar in Odda's Chapel built in AD1056, dedicated to his brother Odda by Edward the Confessor. (We're sure Alfie will have to wrestle with the concept of confession as he grows up!)
Saxon door way to the Chapel
Stone chapel attached to 17c half timbered farm house. Ditto below.
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
At last the waiting is over and Alfie or Frankie has come to stay. (from his behaviour thus far he should be called Wagster)
From too many to count I managed to get 3 pics when he wasn't a blurr pulverising Ted or exploring under the sofa where it's dark, or in the vicinity of the sink, where there are strange noises, or the mirror in the hall behind which there's another puppy just like him.
He's a winner, cute, responsive, courageous, and mad.
We picked him up midway between here and there. He whimpered most of the half hour journey home, distracted only by the bone on a spring in the back window, 'Puppy On Board' ( really?)
I have to get used to Lynne talking upstairs without thinking she's lost her marbles (again), and the patter of tiny feet.
I promise I will never write another word about him, ever!