So Many Dogs....

                                                  Henrietta conducts the singing

It's been a busy week.  My elder daughter's two dogs

came to stay plus I'm looking after Beau Samoyed

Beau rounds up the girls

whose owner is in hospital.  

Luckily the dogs all get on well with each other - and 

with Spud the cat - but the hens were a little insecure

for a few days as the incomers tended to gang up on 

them.

Nothing too awful happened but there were a few 

squawks and some ruffled feathers until the status quo

was re-established as the hens like to feel they are

in charge of the situation.

Samoyeds were originally bred for pulling sledges and for herding (and also used as nanny dogs, guarding the herder's children) and it's possible that Beau thinks the hens are small reindeer, not having clapped eyes on either before.  But he has a lovely nature and soon made friends with my girls, which is just as well as I don't know how long he'll be staying with us.                                                          

Ross, Pup and Beau, my three visitors

As you can imagine, the logistics of looking after so many animals in a small house proved difficult.  The dogs are each used to a particular brand of food and Beau has medication for arthritis and epilepsy.  Ensuring that each dog had it's nose in the correct bowl at supper time was tricky.  I had to stand over them to make sure that nobody sneaked the wrong meal and Spud had to eat his dinner on top of the fridge otherwise he would have missed out, the competition was too great.


Another logistical problem was keeping the various animals in the right place at the right time.  Visitors to this blog might have noticed a children's stair gate at the front door and wondered why it was there. 
It's to keep the hens out and the dogs in or out, depending on where I want them to be.  It seemed to be a really good idea at the time, allowing me to keep the door open in summer if the weather permitted.  But like all good ideas, it has its failings, animals being brighter than we give them credit for.
Megan can open the gate if it's not fully locked down.  She lifts the handle with her mouth (after opening the front door with her paws) and leaves it open for the hens to come in.  I've tried to explain the merits of closing it behind her but this bit of logic seems to have gone over her head.  Consequently I'm often met in the hallway and kitchen by a feathered flurry of girls investigating various food and water bowls.

Okay, where's the corn?

Henrietta has also worked out that when the gate is closed it's there to provide an additional perch, plus, if she hops down, she can investigate any crumbs that might be lurking in corners.  Mind you, with all these dogs there are few crumbs left to lurk in any corners, canines make efficient hoovers.
Which rather neatly leads me to another revelation, which is the sheer amount of dog hair that I am left to vacuum up.  It is phenomenal.  I could knit jumpers with it if I had the time - or the inclination.
But no, I don't.
 

Help, I've got squatters

Before leaving all was normal

I was in London at the weekend, spending time with my son and his family.  Visits between us are rare as it is a long journey, virtually the length of the country.  I had a wonderful time and all too soon it was time to take the overnight train and head for home.

However, when I got back I found that things were not quite as I'd left them. Not only was the grass decidedly longer and the veggie patch  more overgrown (the weeds are loving the rainy weather we've been having) but  the garden and the hen-house had been over-run by squatters.

It's not something we normally have a problem with up here in the north; squatters prefer the inner city.  And living in a small village, I thought that the Neighbourhood Watch signs would be an effective deterrent to any miscreants. But either the intruders were bolder than most, ignoring the twitching 

of net curtains, or they had arrived under cover of darkness.

I'd arranged for friends and family to look after my animals while I was away but

Megan eyes up the intruders...

I discovered that a certain member of the family had left the garden gate open, allowing the 'visitors' to get into the property.  Thankfully they hadn't broken into the building itself but it was a close run thing.  

Margo realised the visitor was holding a shotgun

 Two had taken up residence on the doorstep and I found another  (a far more dangerous looking individual) lurking in the hen-run.

...and bests the cauliflower thief

To add insult to injury I noticed that one of the little people was holding a cauliflower.  He must have pinched it from a neighbouring allotment as I haven't any growing in my patch.

With horror I realised I could be arrested for receiving stolen goods.
Action had to be taken. And quickly.

Megan made quick work of the cauliflower thief but the hoe-less gnome and the murderous twitcher proved harder to shift.

I decided that the only course of action was to pay them off.

The member of the family responsible for their arrival lives in one of Scotland's major cities so, after extolling the virtues of metropolitan living, I gave them her address, directed them to the bus stop and handed them the fare.

They accepted my bribe with alacrity, obviously the thought of clubbing in the city appealed to them, although I omitted to mention that the cauliflower and shotgun might be removed from their persons before they gained entry to city nightlife.

'Hey Ho
 Hey Ho 
To Aberdeen We Go'

I watched them leave with no feelings of regret but I do hope that their new life in Scotland's oil capital will be a great success and that any ventures they pursue will bring them happiness - and the desire to put down roots there.
Permanently.