We’re chilling out by the coast and there are important things to do like walking on the beach and cooking meat on the braai so blogging is always going to take a bit of a back seat.

Still, you need your fix and so here is not one, but two quota panoramae! [cue gasps of astonishment from the expectant crowd]



The first one is from our journey down here last night. Some nameless dirt road just north of Napier where stopped to give Colin a comfort break and to take photos of the sun setting over the Southern Cape farmland.

The second is from the beach near Suiderstrand, this time walking Colin until it broke and needed to be carried home.

I suppose that if there is one thing to be said for having a dog, it’s that you get the opportunity to take photos like these, when otherwise, you’d probably be in a pub somewhere, enjoying a nice drink and some good laughs.


Beagle news

According to this comment, I should be thinking of Colin as clickbait. The rationale, as the commenter goes on to explain, is that revenue from the Google ads clicked upon by people coming here to see photos of Colin could be used to pay for replacement furniture. It’s a good plan, but there’s going to have to be a lot of clickage to sort out all the damage.

Earlier this week, the dog discovered the joy of digging up the lawn. Turns out that it’s actually very good at it too. Let’s make no bones about this (pun intended), I KILL MOLES WITH A SPADE for doing exactly the same thing. And then on Monday evening, I spent an hour repairing the wire from the alarm contact on the front door because it had been chewed through (the wire, not the front door) (yet). While there’s no actual proof that this was the dog, sources indicate that they are around 99.999% certain it was Colin-related.

Beyond. Reasonable. Doubt.

Look, I’ll admit it. It looks fairly harmless, doesn’t it? It’s clever though. Devious. It has already learned the power of public relations and it poses, looking mournful, underloved and completely innocent, as soon as it sees a camera or cellphone. It has naked selfies on the iCloud and will rightfully expect widespread pity when its account is hacked.

Don’t be fooled.

Once the camera is gone, the mischievous, destructive escapologist reappears. Things get dug, chewed, eaten, damaged. The dog isn’t where you left it and you’ve no idea how it got where it is. Your daughter has been partially devoured. Colin is about 1o weeks old. Apparently, “it gets better” by the time they’re about 10 months old.

Something is going to have to give.


No-one ever asks me how I am. Loads of people ask me how the bloody dog is though. And when they ask me how the bloody dog is, I’m going to send them here and then not only can they find out how the bloody dog is, they can also see that I might appreciate it if they’d occasionally ask after my well-being too.

Anyway, it’s no biggie, because I’ve found that all one has to do is chuck a photo of a puppy on the blog, like this one taken last night:


…and the hits just roll in. Even if the dog looks rather unsure about things.

Look, the dog is fine. Thanks for asking.

It’s getting big: 4.6kg at the last weigh-in. It’s noisy*, it’s nippy, it doesn’t sleep much (at night, anyway) and it’s generally a bit of a pain. I’d actually really like to get rid of it now, because the novelty has worn off and it’s a whole lot more work than I was promised, it’s costing loads of money and it’s all take with no reward at the moment, but (much like the individuals referred to at the start of this post) my family would probably rather I left than it did.

And so we persevere.

* Apparently, beagles don’t “bark”, they “bay”, thus Colin’s noise is “baying”. I think “baying” may just be short for “Bloody AnnoYING”.

Jasmine the Dog

As you may or may not know, we’ve recently been joined Chez 6000 by Colin the Dog. You can see my views about this development on this post. And yes. the puppy is very cute, but it’s a dog. Just a dog.

Same could be said for Jasmine Terry. Jasmine is also a dog. Just a dog.

The major difference between Jasmine and Colin (who, in a confusing development, isn’t actually called Colin) is that Colin doesn’t have her own Facebook page. But then Colin isn’t from Port Elizabeth and as we’ve discussed before, things are often a little weird that far along the south coast. (I fully recognise that for some of you, the bigger shock here will not be the dog with its own Facebook page, but rather the revelation that PE appears to have somehow developed internet access.)

I’m not sure how Jasmine set up her own Facebook page, although looking through the pages and pages of rules and regulations, at no point does it actually state that you have to be human. You do have to be 13 years old to use Facebook though, but I guess if you’re a dog, that’s only about 22 months.

Jasmine’s grasp of the English language is pretty good and, despite having paws instead of hands (this is just a dog, after all), her typing is nothing short of excellent, with only occasional lapses into Dog, such as at the end of this update:

Sorry peeps I have not been on FB much as my mom & dad are so busy working. However we are going away this weekend to Hogsback so I will post lots of pics. Cannot wait. I really hope it snows. Luckily my mom found pet friendly Accomodation so I get to go with. Woof!

Incredible. In fact, this dog is either the most talented canine out there or some human is pretending that the dog is writing the page. But can this really be the case, because that would be rather sad, wouldn’t it? Writing in the third person. Third dog, rather. Pretending to be a dog. Like something you’d do at junior school. Not an adult thing.

But then look at the adults that have sent Jasmine messages.
Here’s a screenshot of three of them.


Let’s start at the bottom:
Heather Coyle-Downing is an adult human (according to her profile picture, at least) and she is addressing Jasmine like it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing. Jasmine, lest we forget, is a dog. Yes, a dog with a Facebook page and an uncanny knack of typing fairly decent English, but still a dog.

Working our way up:
I’m desperately trying to overlook the fact that Luke Harold appears to be a cat. If I choose not to ignore that, then everything falls apart, because Luke Harold – ostensibly a cat – has left a message on a Facebook page administered by a dog.
But still, despite the extremely dodgy relationship twixt cat and dog throughout history, Luke is wishing Jasmine well. That’s nice to see. Israel and Palestine could learn from this magnanimous behaviour. Unless of course “Mew meow” turns out to be Cat for “F*** You!”, in which case Luke Harold is a very naughty cat indeed.

We continue to Mark Mans’ contribution. Mark is a human. An adult human.
Mark is an adult human and yet he appears to have ventured onto the Facebook page of a dog, clicked the “Message” button, typed a series of potentially dog-related noises into the window that opened and then, presumably having carefully considered and approved his contribution, hit the “Send” button.
I find it unlikely that this was a series of accidental occurrences.
I think that he actually meant to do this.

What is wrong with these people (save for the fact that they all appear to be from PE)?

Because, let’s face it, there’s a huge difference between telling your Facebook friends that you’re enjoying your holiday and that your dog seems to be having a great time too, and setting up a page for your dog and writing it as if you were actually your dog. The former is, these days at least, considered perfectly reasonable behaviour.
The latter, however, suggests to me that you should urgently be seeking some sort of psychiatric therapy.

If this is you, talk to your vet immediately.

Thanks Jonathan

Dog tired

It’s been a dog-dominated, sleep-deprived weekend. I asked my wife if she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

“No,” she replied, “I’ve bitten off more than I thought, but I can still chew it.”

I’m not sure that this says more about my wife’s determination or her dietary habits.
Or her gob capacity.
And right now, I’m too tired to care.