Mabel’s Musings (and Basil’s Banter)

January 2012

We’ve been usurped!

Over the holidays there has been an invasion of competition in the shape of some rather odd hairy friends who, it has to be said, bear a passing semblance to others we have known…. Of course for Baz and me, it has been proved beyond reasonable doubt by our very fine sense of smell that they are indeed the very same people.

Yes, of course you’ve guessed we are talking about Messrs Rutherford and de Moraville whose bearded visages show varying degrees of manliness (or laziness….). Oh, I almost forgot that other one – Mr Stanton – whose effort to emulate heroes such as Groucho, Charlie Chaplin, Jimmy Hill, Alf Garnett, Freddie Mercury (not to mention a trio of dictators that immediately come to mind) has caused much concern from she who must be obeyed….. She takes her role as surrogate mum to Mr S very seriously and, with her Mrs Bennett hat on, is seriously concerned that he is rather effectively obstructing the way to true love by emulating comic dictators with a penchant for fast cars and Bohemia. Apparently he even threatened to sack her as surrogate mum if she persists in her assault. We’ve noticed she’s taken this seriously and has slightly softened the tone – perhaps she isn’t totally secure that nobody else would adopt him whilst that fluff is on his upper lip.

We had a lovely walk with our friend, Olive, yesterday (even bumping into Basil’s dad, Willow, on the way). Olive has just returned from boarding school whilst her owners jetted off to somewhere called Antigua which sounded rather nice. We overheard the conversation (as she yanked on our leads in an attempt to get us to do that ridiculous walking to heel thing) between the two old dears and apparently Olive has calmed down quite a bit since going to boarding school and seemed to be really fit. Olive said it was fun once she got used to it and she made lots of friends who live in all sorts of places which sounded to us rather like Ashdown, although she was stuck in a cage at night which doesn’t happen here.  

We look forward to seeing you during the term. Oh and a belated happy new year.

STOP PRESS!  One less bit of competition - our surrogate brother has shown the white flag!

October 2011

 Whatever was going on yesterday? An assortment of very odd people seemed to be gathered outside – terrifying to behold when you are a Spaniel…after all who wants to be gobbled by a deMoraville in bear’s clothing or, worse, be stripped bare by Cruella de Vil (yes, I realise that she was really after spotty dogs but Baz could do as a rather smudgy one if the supply ran short). Then there were all sorts of other weird incarnations – several ‘Wallies’ who weren’t too difficult to find and Dr Seuss’s hat stood firm aboard Mrs Allen! But – quelle horreur - how we quivered when a truly terrible form entered the office. Our terror was nothing compared to the poor delivery man who had the misfortune to enter just then. He had glanced right, imagined that the figure in purple with the curly blond tresses had to be an Ashdown mother (sorry ladies!) when the figure turned to him and SPOKE – in unmistakedly South African male tones….. the chap fled! The old girl was pretty miffed when two or three of her so called friends amongst the staff commented that people were very much dressing in character….she went as a witch (‘nuff said…).

After all that banter about Labradors a couple of terms ago, what has the old girl done, but inflict a blinking Labrador on us for a month. Its owner has gone away and not only do we have to put up with an elderly interloper chez nous, but she has the audacity to bring it to school and park ME in the car whilst it joins Baz in the office.

What is even more difficult to swallow than the fawning over said Lab by the Headmaster, is that even SHE is now saying that it is much easier than we are. She keeps muttering about how similar dog training is to child rearing and likening Labradors to the easy child who does what he or she is told, achieving along the way without too much effort and always anxious to please whilst we are like that naughty boy (usually a boy, but not always…) who has no malice but who constantly can’t help himself from getting it wrong even though they know the consequences. But that is what she loves us for (isn’t it?) and what all my pups’ owners also love about us! I wonder what sort of child she makes of those terrier types who really don’t give a fig for what anyone says or the incredibly bright shepherd type dogs who must be the child on the Gifted & Talented list (perhaps both would spend lots of time in the Log Cabin)… “Worrever” (she cringes as she writes that!) - like children all we need is love, parameters and consistency!

May 2011

So there’s a new boy on the Patch – the Deputy’s Dawg. My delinquent son is delighted to find someone to lead astray but I am not very amused (well actually I’m dead jealous of the fact that he takes the children away from playing with ME!). Wheels is, she thinks at any rate, a very cute little chap who’s going to grow into one enormous fellow….but he’d better not think he’ll be able to mess with me – I’m well used to keeping dogs far larger than me in line! When I first met him at the start of term he was a tiny bit shorter than me, but he is growing inches a day and is already far taller than us.  He's some breed called a Tamaskan which I've never heard of (but then what breed is there in the world that matters apart from shhhh you know who...hope the Headmaster isn't looking).

It’s been a hectic start to the term after the rush back to work immediately after Easter – a bit of a shock to the system it has to be said (one moment the freedom of the great outdoors and the next snuggled at her feet for most of the day). The wonderful weather we’ve enjoyed for the last six weeks or so mean that even I am really appreciating the beauty of the grounds here. There are lots of pretty flowers that she will insist of trying to keep us off, though I can’t imagine why when surely she’d rather have the scent of some beautiful rose or azalea than the stink of a cricket ball I’ve excavated from a stagnant ditch between the Patch and the field. People often come into the office and remark upon the ‘doggy smell’ with a disdainful flaring of the nostrils which is why a good covering of aforementioned plant scents would surely benefit everyone. All these unsavoury (in her eyes) balls of varying descriptions are gathering dust above her head and she has often grunted that the young of today have it far too easy if a ball is sent into the nettles, stagnant ditch or over the neighbour’s roof, when she remembers being sent off to bring back the same number of balls as she started off with…. she should have had me all those centuries ago!

One of the other bonuses to Baz and me of a Summer Term at Ashdown is the barbeques! Every Wednesday and Saturday, if we are quick enough, we can leg it over to the Dining Room lawn and scoop up assorted goodies that have been left behind. She normally tries to harness us so as to avoid something called choking on chicken bones, but, as I said, if we’re quick enough we can get all sorts of bits of sausage, burger, ketchuppy bread and, of course, the forbidden chicken drumsticks. Mouthwateringly good and never enough left overs!

There’s lots of chatter I’m picking up about trips. Seems as though the little guys have just returned from one of these to France and the 4s from somewhere called The Lake District where, I gather, there are AMAZING walks (why wasn’t I invited?) and fantastic fun in the water (Basil, eat your heart out – rather better than a swamp on the forest)? She says there’ll be millions of pictures soon so watch that space.

I guess I’d better sign off now as it’s past siesta time…..

February 2011

After rather a long paws in putting paw to keyboard, I shall try to paw out a rather paw effort.  The Headmaster’s comments at the start of term staff meeting have forced me from my literary slumbers....

Suffice to say that the previously unspoken (at Ashdown) battle lines twixt the Spaniel and Labrador have been drawn with the headmaster very obviously on the side of the latter - and herself (mostly) with us!  With Miss Eady and Bailey, Mrs Fox and her two rather regal King Charleses, we are definitely in a majority here – and of course a variety of my offspring are often to be found on the pitches on match days.   We know lots of lovely labradozers – kindly souls who like nothing better than raiding a bin or three and then seeing the rest of the day as siesta/digestion time....WE on the other hand spring about the place with endless rafts of enthusiasm, cocking a hoot at discipline (or trying to get away with doing so) and FAR too busy to worry about food, snoozing or that other favourite pastime of all labradogs.  They say a dog is like its owner which probably says lots for ours....disshevelled, disorganised but always willing to try (usually with a smile…though that seems to be getting rather less evident these days – ask Messrs de Moraville, Stanton, Schreiber to name but a few) even if she gets it wrong rather a lot.  Those Labrador owners are as delightful of course as their charges but rather smug in the sure knowledge that THEIR woofers won’t really let the side down more than a handful of times in their lifetimes.  She often quotes some hackneyed saying about ‘labradors being born half trained whilst spaniels die half trained’ – I rest my case with the owners too!

That puppy of mine that she had the temerity to keep (without consulting me), young Baz, has turned into the ultimate teenager of the roguish variety – you know, the sort who get up to all sorts of pranks but sweet-talks their ways out of serious trouble!  I wash my hands of him but she continues to try to drum some sense into him – totally ineffectually.  Yesterday there were shrieks from children charging into the office ‘Basil’s wee-ed all over the hall’ followed by hurrumphing from the Headmaster’s Study as a dripping wet Basil careered out of it (having just had a freezing swim in the lake).  Trouble is aforementioned ‘sprinkler’ effect is the result of too much excitement (or as a result of her ticking him off) and being allowed to be one of the boys is just too much for my young whipper snapper.  Being one of the lads is what he does best and Messrs Gibbon and Schreiber were seen to be rather enjoying the U8 rugby practice that Basil joined in – watching a dozen boys honing their tackling skills trying to grab one ducking and diving black and white tornado was great; well done to Master Smith for finally grounding the reprobate – Basil’s brother, Gunner, has obviously taught Freddie this skill!

She sometimes returns to her room rather dejected and struggles to keep the tears from her eyes after another volley with Mr de M who really does seem to have it in for her.  One of the reasons for the lack of musings of late is that aforementioned young man has repeatedly poured scorn and ridicule on these words….admittedly she has been heard to guffaw as she lifts his superlatives and obscure quotes from the reports he writes on sports results, but it is he who pushes the knife in and turns it – agonising to watch.  His latest jibe was during a discussion on the storage of something called a ripboard and the wearing of headgear being a necessity for these things.   She asked innocently enough what a ripboard was and Mr de M drew her attention to an object actually positioned at her feet, told her she might like to try it and suggested she did so ‘without headgear’.  So, dear reader, THAT is the real character of the charming young man you all believe him to be – beware wolves in sheep’s clothing!  (‘Love you really George’, she is trilling as I write these words!)

So half term is now with us and Basil and I are off to windswept Dorset to stay with our Labrador friends for a few days.  Doubtless they’ll behave impeccably and be totally trusted not to pursue gulls to the Isle of Wight…or further;  and, on her return, she will probably be forced to agree with the Headmaster’s verdict.  But for now let’s hear it for the Spanners!

Autumn 2010

Hey – isn’t this smart AND a picture of me too!  I must remind her to give me a good grooming before any more pin up pics are put on this fantastic new website as I might let the side down....I hear her mutter that I do that far too often what with jumping up at people not to mention when the scent of a cricket/tennis/rounders/rugby/foot ball FORCES me into those pretty borders incurring Cynthia’s wrath.  If only humans understood the workings of a canine mind;  but never mind, it is enough that we understood how the human mind works (well hers at any rate...putty in Baz and my paws!).

Back to the website, Mrs Floyd is apparently the brilliant artist who has created all the wonderful illustrations which are so much fun.  Even I seem to have managed to find my way around the site (well what’s a good hunting dog doing if not sniffing to see what is to be found?) but she-who-must-be-obeyed thinks it’s pretty straightforward too and her nose is certainly not very good (she never suggests the office is doggy smelling when lots of others do!).  She does say though that our readers should give any comments/suggestions/criticisms (please not the latter!) to her.

We all (her included) hope you’ve had a wonderful summer and enjoyed some of the variety we have with trips to places called Devon, Cornwall, Dorset and Scotland where we stayed on the most beautiful island and spent plenty of time on deserted beaches and swimming in blue blue seas.  It seems that the Staff Room is full of people (and the odd four-footed friend) who’ve had great holidays and all say they’re really looking forward to everyone returning.

In fact it’s good to be back and although she isn’t giving us much attention (she’s reserving that for the headmaster and trying to keep on top of all sorts of something called ‘admin’), we’re really looking forward to having our friends back with us.  I do hope that one or two may find time to take me out with any spherical object that they can find (no, I’m afraid my rotten son isn’t really ‘safe’ to be out as she thinks he’s a bit of delinquent teenager at the moment)!  The grounds are looking fantastic and all the pitches are marked with all sorts of posts with nets that get in the way when Baz and I are racing across but there is still plenty of room for games of ‘Fetch’!

One very sad bit of news is that our friend, Benji, died right at the beginning of the holidays.  I know how sad Mr and Mrs Floyd, Freddy and Tabitha were (and are) and we all miss dear old Benji’s ‘smiling’ face and lolloping gait.  He was very special even though we only knew him for a year and we know he’ll be having a pain free lollop on playing fields even greener than ours here.