Secret diary of Maximilian Thorn aged 15 1/4

Woke up this morning and thought – I love my Mum, but I love her more when she comes downstairs at 6.15. It was nearly 7 this morning and an elder statesman like me, I’d been lying awake for ages thinking of weighty matters and – well – to be blunt I was desperate for a crap. When she eventually came down, I somehow didn’t really feel like getting up. You know, the spirit was willing, but I suspected the back legs were having none of it, so I stayed where I was. However, Mum is no respecter of my dignity and she grabbed me by the buttocks (if only that delightful minx Nina would do that) and heaved me upright. Think I must have had a bit too much of the juice last night ‘cos I was wavering about something shocking. I managed to get to the back door though and only bounced off two kitchen cupboards on the way there.

Once outside things seemed to kick into place and I had a wander round and did all the things we boy dogs do first thing in the morning. Shame Nina never needs to come out first thing, it’s always much more motivating when there’s some girl pee for the brat and me to vie over. Not that he has any idea what it’s all really about. Swaggers all over the place, but he’s never had his leg over and yours truly has. So there. Huh!

Back indoors and ages till breakfast so I thought I’d better reinforce my dominance over the brat with a bit of grooming. I used to do it standing up and pin him against the kitchen cupboards to groom his neck, but I find that quite hard work these days, so I lie down and he has to lie flat on the floor so I can groom his chest. We elder statesmen need to keep the young turks in their place, you know, and it gives me a real sense of power.

It was salmon and rice again for breakfast when it eventually came. Just can’t get the staff these days. I’ve got a bit of a penchant for salmon and rice lately, which is just as well as it seems to be what I get every meal now. 

Back out in the garden after breakfast and this time the delightful Nina is out here, so it’s much more enjoyable. Bit of a snooze afterwards and then, hurray, Mum got her wellies and jacket on. The brat jumps up and down and Nina barks and spins in circles whenever she’s getting ready to go out, but I have to use all my efforts to bark constantly without either falling over or having an accident. Then we’re out of the door and legging it to the gate into The Field. The brat and the minx are off in one direction, but yours truly knows we’re really going the other way. Economy of effort, you know, so I let them dash about madly while Mum, poor old girl, and I head off in the proper direction. The Field is really wet and slippery these days. I find it alright on the way out as it’s level or downhill, but the old legs struggle a bit coming back uphill in the mud. I sat down with a plop at one point and Mum was headed away so I had to have a good moan before she came back. I wasn’t feeling very energetic so, although I could quite easily have walked up the hill on my own, I let her use that red scarf as a sling. It takes a bit of the weight off my old legs and, well, the wool tickles my willy in a rather enjoyable way. Needless to say, this made the walking easier so I wanted to stop and eat some rabbit droppings for a while and then thought I’d head out into the field and see what was around. Mum was a spoilsport as usual and tried to get me back on the path. I tried to pretend I couldn’t hear her (she thinks I’m deaf, but I can still tell a hawk from a handsaw), but she wasn’t falling for it and grabbed my collar with her spare hand to steer me back on the path. It was annoying but also bloody funny. Out of the corner of my eye I could see what she looked like, bent over and walking crab-like up the hill with one hand holding the sling and the other guiding my collar. Laugh, I nearly … oh.

Back at home now and snoozing by the Aga, dreaming of past victories.

Secret diary of Maximilian Thorn, aged 15 today (6 August)

(follows on from secret diary aged 14 3/4 and secret diary aged 13 3/4)

What a weekend it’s been. The Olympic excitement even got to me on Saturday evening. I couldn’t help it. Every lap Jessica Ennis did on TV, I did one round the sitting room with her. When she won and they were all jumping up and down, I found myself rolling around on the floor with my legs in the air, squealing with excitement. I got up on the settee for a snooze to recover and then, blow me, Mo Farah won the 10,000m and I had to leap off and do a lap of honour with him. What’s going on?

I’ve known for some time that I was a world class tap dancer (Mum calls me Max Astaire), but this athletics stuff is all new. (Actually, I’ve only known about the tap dancing since I had the spinal stroke jobbie last autumn.) Mum says all four legs move independently of each other and I tap dance with the front ones. No idea what she means, but it’s bound to be a compliment. Max Astaire and Nina Rogers – I can see our names in lights now. Perhaps then that delightful little minx will let me tup her.

Apparently it’s my 15th birthday today. People seem to imply that’s old, but you should see some of them. Huh, they won’t see 15 again unless they start going backwards – and for a few decades at that. Honestly, no respect some people. 

I wonder if I’m going to get a decent walk today. I used to get taken for miles at a time, but it doesn’t seem as if Mum can do that these days, poor old girl. Most days it’s half an hour round the field. Nice, but a bit repetitive if you know what I mean. Friday I thought we were never going to go. Then, when she finally took us from the garden into the field, she faffed around with the bonfire for ages. Served her right that when she stood up she couldn’t see me. The delightful minx and the brat were gambolling about, but for me a walk’s a walk. I know the route, so I’d gone off on my own. No way I’m hanging about for that bunch. After a while, I think I must have gone uphill a bit and reappeared because she caught sight of me and started laughing (why?), and then ran to catch up.

For my birthday present she’s going to get rid of that brat Satchmo for most of the day. Just a pity she has to go with him; don’t know why he can’t go on his own at his age. Nonetheless, a day alone with Nina is a day alone with Nina, so it’ll be aftershave, candles and champagne in the dog house.  (Mem to self – better lick willie really clean this morning in anticipation.) 

Secret diary of Maximilian Thorn aged 14 3/4

(follows on from Secret Diary of Maximilian Thorn aged 13 3/4)
Woke up and thought 'My mum loves me' (actually I think that when I wake up every morning). I opened my mouth to bark and call her down so she could love me some more, but then an unmistakable scent hit me smack in the vomeronasal organ. The delectable Nina is in season! So, I'm afraid I have to admit I forgot all about mum temporarily while I had a good sniff and lick round her bed. She didn't look best pleased; that must just be cos I'd woken her up early. Must try and keep on the right side of her and maybe this time it will be my chance [oh no it won't; Ed]. Upshot was I was taken completely by surprise when mum came into the room as I was facing the other way. Either she was remarkably quiet or my hearing's not all it was. Can't be that, though, cos I'm perfect. I expect I was just concentrating on sex at the time - we entire boys do that quite a lot, you know.

Anyway, for some reason my breakfast didn't seem as appealing as usual. Later on, mum took us all for a walk in the field. My sophisticated, cool image does take a knock at walkies time. I just can't help getting excited. Some people are surprised that I can still run, especially as my legs don't seem to co-ordinate as well as they used to, but if you were looking at the image of the delectable Nina's delectable bottom disappearing in the distance, so would you. Unfortunately, so does the Brat, but he knows better than to challenge me. If he tries, he gets to spend another half hour pinned against the wall having his neck groomed. (Nobody can say I don't know how to be the dominant male.) I was jogging happily down the hill, when I fell down a rabbit hole. My back leg was stuck so I called Mum and she got me out. To be honest, I fall down that rabbit hole almost every day. I always mean to remember it's there, but with a delectable arse just ahead - well, it goes out of my head completely.

Raw beef for dinner this evening. A particular fave, but I felt it would be good tactics to leave some as I know from past experience that, as Nina's season goes on, sausages will appear on the menu more and more often, but only if I start leaving other food. You know, sometimes my sheer intelligence impresses even me. After dinner I spent a happy half hour barking at Nina, just so's she doesn't forget I'm ready and waiting at the appropriate moment. I'm sure I heard mum say that I wouldn't be able to do that sex thing any more cos of my back leg - little does she know is all I can say.

Now what shall I do next - bark a bit more, cock my leg indoors, groom the Brat or have a little snooze. So many choices...

Update

Oh dear, long gap again and just when things were interesting too. Nina had her last litter of pups on 13 January. She whelped easily and quickly - so quickly she nearly caught me out - and had 6 pups, which was lovely as the vet had only seen 3-4 concepti in the scan. Four girls and two boys; the Ballet Litter. Nina and I both loved the subsequent 8 weeks and somehow I seemed to find it more tiring than she did! The pups went to their new homes in early March. One (Kiki) lives nearby and I will hopefully show her.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year everyone. I had a great NY Eve with some neighbours. Stayed up till about 3; unheard-of for us country mice. Skipped the show I'd entered NY Day (was I mad or what to enter that?). My excuse was that a friend was staying over after the party and I could hardly kick her out at 8am. Still, we went to a show on 2nd and my lovely Satchmo got Best of Breed against a strong field and then went on to come 3rd in the Working Group. Nancy Evans of Amazon Dobes was kind enough to say she thought he should have won the group. Shame I spoilt it by leaving my bag of show kit there. The Secretary has taken it home and she lives 1.5 hrs drive from me. Damn.

Christmas in our house

There were only 5 of us plus the 3 dogs - age 7 to 87 very neatly - but it felt manic. Great time, actually, and Antony and I make a good team in the kitchen. Dogs were pretty good, although I suspect that was mainly because we made sure there was no food left in Satchmo's reach. Maxie developed a penchant for Quality Street - wrapper and all. They went down in one, so there can't possibly have been any flavour. Nonetheless, he still clenched his teeth tight when I tried to get a toffee penny back out. I had visions of it coming out the other end unmarked. If I really hated someone, I could perhaps have washed it an offered it to them. Fortunately, I don't hate anyone. By the time we were back on our own on Boxing Day evening, we were all crashed. As you can see...

Pregnant ladies

Some of you may remember that, last time she was preggie, Nina had a thing about eating compost and dug almost all the summer plants out of my garden tubs. This time, whilst not actually averse to a bit of compost, she's fonder of wood. She's demolished the tub that one of my clematis has been in for years, and she keeps taking logs off the fireside pile and ripping them up on the rug. Needless to say, this is only ever done when I've just finished vacuuming. (Of course, I say 'she', but we all know Satchmo will be joining in enthusiastically, don't we?)