Mauerfall 25

So it was the 25th Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Mama and Papa went to get among it at the East Side Gallery. Originally they said I could come too. But then they left me behind.

Instead I had to watch it all on fucking tellie. What bullshit.

I'm 10 today!!!

To be honest, I don't keep track of time very well. That's what Mama and Papa are for.
So this morning I woke up and they were all like 'Hey happy birthday Barney!'
I was still groggy from being woken up, so it was a total surprise!

'How old am I?' I asked

'You are 10 today!'

Fuck that's old I thought. But I got distracted when they said they had a present for me.
I recognised its smell before I even unwrapped it, its the thing they hid from me earlier in the week...a NEW CHEW TOY :)

It's quite fun, I like it. It squeaks too, but its hard for me to grasp the green thing with my mouth to make the noise, so I mostly chew the ends.

Later on in the day they sang me the human birthday song and gave me a cake :)

Bloody hell that cake was rich, a cheesecake they called it. I have to sleep it off, so this entry is just a short one so that you all know that I am 10 today!

Klaus and Klarry

Okay, so this blog post is hardly timely given that we've just left summer. It's not my fault, the computer was on the fritz and Papa took so long to decide on buying a new one. But now we got one so I can tell my story...finally.

So - last year it was a fucking hot summer. These Germans do NOT know how to do air conditioning AT ALL. So for someone of my furry disposition, it was a fucking uncomfortable few months.

This year I put my paw down and said to the olds, I CANNOT GO THROUGH THAT KIND OF SUMMER AGAIN.

They said they would think about it.

A little while later a huge box arrived.  'What the fuck is that?' I asked.
'

Its for you...its a present for you Barney!' They said. 'Open it!!'

So I did, and it was a fan...woo hoo! no more sticky nights!

I got it out, turned it on and it was amazing. Loved it. I called him KLARRY.

Until I noticed that Klarry had a bend in his metal. Ohh  man, I'm a stickler for symmetry and I didn't want that bend to harsh my cool breeze mellow :(

As much as I loved Klarry, I couldn't keep my eye off his flaw.

'We've got to do something about this', and by WE I meant Papa should fix it. He got in contact with the seller and they said they would send us another one, and we could keep the old one? Fuck yea!

So a couple of days later we got the new one. We checked it over and he was perfect...I called him Klaus.

Double fan of Klaus and Klarry, it was amazing, but even I realised two is too much. So I decided to stick with Klaus and we gave Klarry to the needy.

I love Klaus.

Belated wash day

So I've been quiet you think?

Well, maybe on the blog yeah, but out in the real world I've been raising hell. Party here, party there, and picnics everywhere. I've been mad busy, enjoying the weather and the company of friends.

A party here...

 A party there...

I partied everywhere...

So SORRY, no time for blogging.

Which brings me to wash day :( Mama and Papa tell people that they wash me every two weeks - but we all know that's bullshit. We've all been partying too hard and been getting dusty and dirty from all the park chilling. So what's the point of washing if we hit up a park the next day. That's what we all thought.

And then the summer in Berlin...just....buggered ...off.

It's been shit here the past couple of weeks. No more picnics so I knew what was coming - as threatened for weeks, it was wash time.

This is always a hullabaloo. I always get caught by surprise. Forced into a quick haircut, then thrown into the shower...

Briefly dried off with a towel, then I'm allowed to go crackers for a bit to dry myself to my liking...

Then its the blow dry. I hate this bit. It's too hot for me. But Mama and Papa say it's necessary so that I don't smell like wet dog. I don't really know what the problem is...I smell fine when I'm soaked. Just leave it be?...

So the blow dry is always a struggle of wills. I can never get out of it, but I usually give Papa a bit of a reminder that I don't like it...

And then the almost final brush down where I keep getting told 'Oh Barney, look how much hair is coming off you!'. You don't think I know? Geez... 

This was just a third of what came off my coat...that's what you get when you don't brush me for a month!

Always fun and games round here.

Faking it

This week started off on a bit of an awkward note with me and Papa.

It was Monday morning and I was doing my thing, licking and exploring under the bed, when he tried to grab me out from under there. In doing so, he pinched my fur and skin and it hurt. So I bit him. He shouted at me, I growled back at him and we were both pretty stand-offish for the rest of the morning.

By lunchtime Mama and Papa said they were going out. I asked Mama (didn't dare talk to Papa) if I could come with. She said ok. Papa said 'fine, but we're bike walking'.

So we went out and man they really made me run while they were on their bikes. I was getting knackered and my arm was getting a bit sore. I thought Papa was getting revenge on me for biting him earlier.

Back at home they noticed I was limping a bit to stay off my sore arm. All of a sudden they were both really nice to me. I realised quick that it was the limp, so I really laid it on. I pretended I was extra sore and limped really badly around the house. I was getting a lot of attention, the bite from earlier was forgotten and Papa was caring for me like a champ. Ha, I was going to have some fun with this.

So the next two days I kept limping. I overheard them saying that they thought I was faking. Hmm I was going to have to play it a bit smarter.

I was still getting the special treatment but the backfire was that they would't take me outside and they were growing suspiscious. 'You need to rest' they kept saying. Shit, I wanted to go out. It was so nice outside.

So I scaled the limp back slightly, so that by Thursday when I asked to go out they said 'Okay, but just to the park over the road so you don't need to walk to far. We'll have a picnic!'

Woo Hoo. I was pretty excited. Papa made us all coffees and then we took them down to the park.

I got settled in with my coffee...

And we people watched, the sunbathers...

And a couple of girls making some drip painting...

It was getting hot, (the coffee didn't help) but I was loving it outside.

But then I was having too much trouble keeping cool, so Papa put some water over me to keep cool...

 I was really enjoying my family day in the park, so much so that when we ended the picnic and walked home I forgot my fake limp and ran all the way through the garden and up the stairs - with no limp.

The game was up.

Inside they both confronted me 'A-HA! We KNEW it!!!'

I put the limp back on for a bit but it was over. No more special treatment. Shit.

Everything has calmed down now though and we are back to normal. I was pulled out from under the bed by Papa again this morning and even though he pinched me again, I held back and didn't bite him this time.

I haven't cooked up a new scheme just yet so I need to keep everyone on my good side. I'll come up with something though :)

Foster Child

Bloody hell, no body tells me 'nuffin.

So you probably read about Mama and Papa's trip to Poland last weekend. I WASN'T INVITED!!

Here's how it went down.

Friday night some people I've met with came to stay the night (F&A). Cool, I like a sleep over. I even got involved...

So it's all fun and games Saturday morning and then Mama and Papa say "okay, we're off to Poland now'.

So, I say to F & A, nice seeing you peeps, I'm going to POLAND! woo hoo.

And then Mama says...'whoa Barney, not you. You aren't coming to Poland. You are staying here with F & A.'

BACK THE TRUCK UP.

WTF

I was speechless.

What am I? some kind of orphan, foster child, unwanted POSSESSION!! I was mad.

The last time they left me like this, they went away for A YEAR.

I was worried.

They left, but F & A were nice to me. I know A quite well, but F is new'ish to me but he is great. He was giving me lots of treats (more than Mama and Papa) and I was getting lots of attention.

When they left for the day though, I got a bit nervous and wound up - were they leaving me too? I sat on the bed getting all worried and my tummy was feeling sore. I vommed on the bed. Ooops.

F & A came back not long after and they didn't know what to do. They were concerned but I was fine by then. As long as they don't leave me along too long.

So they told me they had been out to see some friends but were now back to spend more time with me. This was fun and we had a great time. F, again not knowing how much I should get fed, was giving me treat after treat. I like F :)

We all had a great time and I soon lost my anger toward Mama and Papa - maybe it's a good thing I make friends and spend time with other people. Maybe they were right to leave me home, after all I do like my bed and who knows what the situation was in Poland, and all the walking and the foreign food and the language, AHH forget about it....leave me at home to party with my new friends.

We were having such a great time together that before I knew it the party was over. On Monday F & A left the house - with F giving me a big hug and A saying she would be back later. They left and then a couple of hours later Mama and Papa were back.

I had a pretty good weekend actually at home with my new pals. I wonder when Mama and Papa will go away again.

Shit Haircut

As always, things happen in my life of which I have no say of. Often they are great things and sometimes not.

This week was one of the 'not' things - Papa gave me a shit haircut.

One day, he just picks me up and first clips my nails (don't like that) and then starts chopping my hair with the razor.

Things were going like normal until he went around my neck, stopped and then just said 'UMMMM - I can probably fix that'.

'WTF! What have you done?' I asked him. He showed me in the mirror...

Mama heard the commotion and came in to see for herself. Her gasp indicated to me that it was as bad as I thought. Mama and Papa had a discussion, to which Papa was barred from 'styling' me any longer.

We surveyed the damage some more.

He'd even fucked up my paws...but not as bad as my neck...

I cracked it and stormed off. 'I'm not fucking going anywhere until this crappy cut grows back', and I sat myself by the window.

Papa tried to say it wasn't bad, but we all knew it was a shit haircut. I wasn't willing to discuss it anymore and ignored them both.

I wonder how long it's going to take to grow over?