Showing posts with label Bruno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bruno. Show all posts
27th November 2016
What is it about Thursdays? Growing up, strange things always seemed to happen on that day. This week was stormy. No, not election storms, though heaven knows it's still ongoing....in the US someone's paying to have those marginal State votes recounted....in the EU the clown they call Boris is making us all look foolish, and here in France, with Sarkozy now out, it's a race between Fillon and Juppe. However, Meteo France predicted storms in the Aude region, south-east of us. No problem then; we should avoid the worst. Wednesday night was indeed very windy, but we felt safe in our strong stone house. But, early Thursday morning Bruno alerted us, going berserk as tremendous waves of thunder and lightening crashed down above our heads. Dawn arrived bleary-eyed as we surveyed the worst. Our beautiful giant, century-old lime tree - one of a matching pair - was down, together with two birches. Feel so sad for the remaining lime, standing so alone and forlorn amongst the debris. Have always felt an affinity for trees, living/spiritual things and when they die/fall, I have real fears. Didn't help that, just then, before I'd had time to tidy up, our buyer arrives unexpectedly with viewers of 'his' house!!....Meantime, it appears Thursday is named from Thor, the Norse god, and Jove, Roman god - both noted for creating thunder and lightning! Well, there you go then.
18 January 2015
Feeling miserable. I thought our 'friendly' neighbour - the one who put 6' high red signs all around our garden proclaiming 'Propriete prive, defense d'entrer' - had seen sense at last as the signs suddenly disappeared. But no. The next day, there they all were again, double the size. Even though Bruno has been on permanent lock-down on our terrace, the neighbour had gone to immense trouble in constructing stronger, even higher (now 12') posts for the signs that our elderly dog still can't read. The exchange rate shows 1£:1.31 euros, giving more doom and gloom to those who want to escape all the mayhem and go back to the UK. At these rates, even if we could sell our house (despite the stupid garden posts), all we could buy would be a retirement flat in the UK. But such flats only take 'one small dog', i.e. not Bruno! So, I walked into the town centre on Friday to get a hormone drug for Him indoors. Miserable. Rain pouring down, leaking off the canopies at the weekly market. But, at least I didn't see any armed soldiers. Everyone going about their normal business, stoical to the last. That's what I'll have to be then. Where's Gene Kelly when you need him?
blog extra
For all those who know Bruno, and especially those who have criticised us for not training/controlling him properly:
I've always thought that, apart from us, the only person who has experienced long-term the behaviour of our Breton spaniel is our local kennel expert, Celine from Complexe Canine de la Gravie in Le Garric - the kennel where we leave him for extended periods whilst we are away. Well, we have just picked him up after a 12-day stay with Celine and her comments were very interesting. I told her about all the problems we had had with our Gaillac neighbours and that we were considering installing an electric wire around the fence. She said Non categorically. She told us that, in her view, Bruno is well-trained for the normal, everyday tasks like sitting on command and gentle with people, but that he has probably experienced a great shock as a puppy from his previous owner - undoubtedly a hunter - and that an electric fence would cause him even more distress. The shock as a puppy has left him mentally-disturbed: he cannot cope with bangs, e.g. thunder (he bent the bars of the kennel there during a storm, but was calm thereafter), he is permanently anxious, and experiences what looks like mild epilepsy (an inherited gene common in Breton spaniels) which manifests itself by mad racing around the garden, followed by sudden stops into normal, calm behaviour again. Exactement!! Tres bien, Celine.
I've always thought that, apart from us, the only person who has experienced long-term the behaviour of our Breton spaniel is our local kennel expert, Celine from Complexe Canine de la Gravie in Le Garric - the kennel where we leave him for extended periods whilst we are away. Well, we have just picked him up after a 12-day stay with Celine and her comments were very interesting. I told her about all the problems we had had with our Gaillac neighbours and that we were considering installing an electric wire around the fence. She said Non categorically. She told us that, in her view, Bruno is well-trained for the normal, everyday tasks like sitting on command and gentle with people, but that he has probably experienced a great shock as a puppy from his previous owner - undoubtedly a hunter - and that an electric fence would cause him even more distress. The shock as a puppy has left him mentally-disturbed: he cannot cope with bangs, e.g. thunder (he bent the bars of the kennel there during a storm, but was calm thereafter), he is permanently anxious, and experiences what looks like mild epilepsy (an inherited gene common in Breton spaniels) which manifests itself by mad racing around the garden, followed by sudden stops into normal, calm behaviour again. Exactement!! Tres bien, Celine.
18 May 2014
From the sublime to the ridiculous.....
For 3 years I've done everything possible to make friends with our neighbours. Last Xmas I took home-made patisserie to each of them but alas nothing in return. Of course it all revolves around our naughty dog Bruno. I know, I know but he's a lovable chasseur who wants just 2 things in life: to be with us and to run.That was the reason we bought this house with its large, fenced garden, but Bruno knows no barriers; it's all one big adventure for him. Knowing this we give him plenty of walks, but he got out again while I was bringing in the washing, nosed open the cellar door, raced down the bottom of the garden and leapt the fence in one go. In a flash the neighbour (not the one with the chickens) was there with a giant baton and went to beat poor Bruno repeatedly. For God's sake: this isn't a wild fox; it's a neighbour's pet dog who loves everybody. I can honestly say that if a known neighbour's dog was in our garden, I would take him round to them again. But here? No. I shouted for Bruno to run, run.....he did, climbed the fence with all 4 paws and leapt over to safety again. Phew! But now, look what the crazy neighbour has done....these signs have sprouted all around our garden, facing us. Does he think Bruno can read? Incroyable.
For 3 years I've done everything possible to make friends with our neighbours. Last Xmas I took home-made patisserie to each of them but alas nothing in return. Of course it all revolves around our naughty dog Bruno. I know, I know but he's a lovable chasseur who wants just 2 things in life: to be with us and to run.That was the reason we bought this house with its large, fenced garden, but Bruno knows no barriers; it's all one big adventure for him. Knowing this we give him plenty of walks, but he got out again while I was bringing in the washing, nosed open the cellar door, raced down the bottom of the garden and leapt the fence in one go. In a flash the neighbour (not the one with the chickens) was there with a giant baton and went to beat poor Bruno repeatedly. For God's sake: this isn't a wild fox; it's a neighbour's pet dog who loves everybody. I can honestly say that if a known neighbour's dog was in our garden, I would take him round to them again. But here? No. I shouted for Bruno to run, run.....he did, climbed the fence with all 4 paws and leapt over to safety again. Phew! But now, look what the crazy neighbour has done....these signs have sprouted all around our garden, facing us. Does he think Bruno can read? Incroyable.
14th July 2013
Bastille Day or Fete Nationale, as the French call it. Well, they would wouldn't they? People will always dream up ways of obfuscating the atrocities of life to make themselves feel better about their history. But, it's only by seeing the mistakes of the past that we can know who we are today and try to do better. There's one historical French place I'd always wanted to see - Carcassonne, just a couple of hours S.E. of us. It's the site of the author Kate Mosse's trilogy. So, we drove our family there. We all agreed: the old 3C cite of Carsac is exceptional. Although, being us, life is always difficult. One dog was still in the clinic, and we took the other one (yes, Bruno!) with us. So, as a party of 5 + one mad dog we traipsed in the heat around the most amazing mediaeval site you can imagine. And, the place was full of Americans. Of course. However much the US boasts, they can never match the history encompassed by Europe. As Him indoors says 'history is a thing of the past'. And Bruno? We may, enfin, have found the solution - change his diet to hypo-allergenic food (no additives). Well, reader, it worked. He rode in the caleche and didn't even bark at the horses. So, although there may be fireworks tonight, for the moment all is calm en-famille. Ah...
30th September 2012
Allons aux barricades. No, it's not 14th July - it's the neighbours who're revolting! Something'll have to be done, but what? Regular readers of this post will guess what happened recently. Yes - Bruno again. After his second episode of climbing the fence and attacking the neighbour's chicken, we resorted to attaching him via a long rope to our terrace. Sounds cruel, but it wasn't. It was long enough to allow him to go under nearby bushes or to come into the house to see us. He's very much an outside dog and much prefers being in the open air. Then, when we brought him into the house, we would unclip the rope and shut the doors. This worked very well until the day we forgot one of the windows was open. He heard the crack of a nearby hunting gun (grr) and jumped out. The problem with the neighbours is that they have poulets tondeuses (chickens bought to run over the grass) as well as geese. But, this isn't the countryside - it's a town. And the chickens provoke our chasseur dog by pecking near the fence. Well, the neighbours drove round to our front gate. I didn't let them in. They waved a letter and threatened to call the Gendarmes. I said I would pay one more time - but think they're diddling me by demanding I buy 6 more chickens when only one was attacked. Enough's enough. No more. Friends say have we tried electrocution. I say, what the fence? Him indoors says, no, the neighbours....
5th February 2012
Not a good week. Someone's been misbehaving again (no, not Him indoors this time). Plus, in sub-zero temperatures, when the new cast-iron fire gives a good blaze, the overhead wooden mantlepiece gets red-hot. So, we called back the poelle-man to fit some sort of metal fireguard. As Him indoors says: yet another paying opportunity.
For those who've not met our dog Bruno, he loves to run and climb fences with all four paws off the ground. All of which makes life difficult. We've discovered that the patch of ground to the left of us is rented out to the man whose property lies along the bottom. So, when yet again Bruno climbed the adjoining fence, it's not our immediate neighbour who's at war with us, but the one with the gun(!) in the next road. (And, of course, our neighbour can't take our side because he doesn't want to lose his rent money!) Fortunately for Bruno, we managed to catch him and lead him back, tail between his legs. Sigh of relief. But then, that evening, the ubiquitous white Berlingo arrived. Him indoors was out walking the dogs, so I opened the gates and let whom I thought was our poelle-man into the drive. But it wasn't him. It was the irate couple from the next street!
Nothing for it. Despite the icy, hardened ground, Him indoors went off to Brico yet again to arm himself with more materials to fix a sturdier door to the dog pen. Will it be completed this time? As he says everytime he puts his key in the door: 'what have I let myself in for?'
For those who've not met our dog Bruno, he loves to run and climb fences with all four paws off the ground. All of which makes life difficult. We've discovered that the patch of ground to the left of us is rented out to the man whose property lies along the bottom. So, when yet again Bruno climbed the adjoining fence, it's not our immediate neighbour who's at war with us, but the one with the gun(!) in the next road. (And, of course, our neighbour can't take our side because he doesn't want to lose his rent money!) Fortunately for Bruno, we managed to catch him and lead him back, tail between his legs. Sigh of relief. But then, that evening, the ubiquitous white Berlingo arrived. Him indoors was out walking the dogs, so I opened the gates and let whom I thought was our poelle-man into the drive. But it wasn't him. It was the irate couple from the next street!
Nothing for it. Despite the icy, hardened ground, Him indoors went off to Brico yet again to arm himself with more materials to fix a sturdier door to the dog pen. Will it be completed this time? As he says everytime he puts his key in the door: 'what have I let myself in for?'
27th December 2009
Bruno, our mad 'chasseur' gundog, was lonely. I asked Him indoors whether we should think the unthinkable and get him a little friend to play with. 'Are you mad?' he said. 'We can't control Bruno as it is. How are we gonna look after two? And think of the vet's fees if they get ill?' Practical as always. But, being a woman, I persisted and so, when a nearby friend suggested we accompany her on one of her regular visits to nearby Figeac rescue centre, I dragged the reluctant Him indoors and a panting Bruno (or was it the other way round?) to the most heartbreaking place you could imagine. There are hundreds of abandoned dogs there and because it's not funded by the SPA (French RSPCA), they struggle to house and feed them. One of the dogs that my friend regularly exercises was a cute Springer spaniel, a gundog like Bruno, but black with brown freckles on the nose. The good thing here was that the dog itself had no specific 'issues' - she was there simply because the owner was an alcoholic and could no longer look after her. She was so so placid, unlike Bruno (and Him indoors) and I thought maybe she would act as a calming influence. How could I resist?
We're now back home and I'm looking out at the front garden. Him indoors is busy raking the leaves and Bruno and her new pal Tina are racing around, stirring them all up again.
I 'ordered' our new doggie Tina on the same day as my new children's book 'Tina and the Colosseum of Rome' (2nd in the Rainbow series, after 'Rose') became available on Amazon.
A happy ending after all!
We're now back home and I'm looking out at the front garden. Him indoors is busy raking the leaves and Bruno and her new pal Tina are racing around, stirring them all up again.
I 'ordered' our new doggie Tina on the same day as my new children's book 'Tina and the Colosseum of Rome' (2nd in the Rainbow series, after 'Rose') became available on Amazon.
A happy ending after all!
10th May 2009
Every so often a day happens which defies description - and not just in the way you'd expect. Yesterday started normally enough. Our son Jon is visiting us for a few days and we enjoyed his favourite breakfast before leaving for a day out. Because of our new secure gate, we decided to leave our dog Bruno - for the first time - in the garden all day whilst exploring the Cite de l'espace in Toulouse.
Toulouse proved to be bright, vibrant and spectacular. We enjoyed a vegetarian lunch at our son's favourite restaurant, Les Faim des Haricots (literally: the hungry beans), in the rue du Puits Vert, a short stroll from the Place du Capitole. En route there were spectacles around every corner: a wedding group, hooting its way through the maze of cobbled streets, brightly-dressed ticket sellers and packed pavement cafes every few feet. No credit crunch there. Le cite de l'espace was an interesting contrast to the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida, with its many outside exhibits and realistic participant moon-walks.
So, we were pretty tired when finally we drove home after our hectic day. I was worried about Bruno and how he'd coped all day without us. But, as we drove up, all seemed well. He was at the gate to greet us, tail frantically waving. However, when I checked for phone messages, there were several agitated calls awaiting from a friend in the village - each one more concerned than the rest: "...it's 11.00 and I've just seen Bruno wandering outside the bibliotheque......it's now 3 p.m. and we've managed to round Bruno up and 'post' him over your fence. He's really distressed..."
How ever did he get out from our locked gate?? Plus ca change, plus la meme chose!
Toulouse proved to be bright, vibrant and spectacular. We enjoyed a vegetarian lunch at our son's favourite restaurant, Les Faim des Haricots (literally: the hungry beans), in the rue du Puits Vert, a short stroll from the Place du Capitole. En route there were spectacles around every corner: a wedding group, hooting its way through the maze of cobbled streets, brightly-dressed ticket sellers and packed pavement cafes every few feet. No credit crunch there. Le cite de l'espace was an interesting contrast to the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida, with its many outside exhibits and realistic participant moon-walks.
So, we were pretty tired when finally we drove home after our hectic day. I was worried about Bruno and how he'd coped all day without us. But, as we drove up, all seemed well. He was at the gate to greet us, tail frantically waving. However, when I checked for phone messages, there were several agitated calls awaiting from a friend in the village - each one more concerned than the rest: "...it's 11.00 and I've just seen Bruno wandering outside the bibliotheque......it's now 3 p.m. and we've managed to round Bruno up and 'post' him over your fence. He's really distressed..."
How ever did he get out from our locked gate?? Plus ca change, plus la meme chose!
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