Brutus – Storm in an E Cup!


Naughtiness in the form of Rocky and Brutus

We have had full on naughtiness today and quite frankly I am exhausted but never have I laughed so much at my dogs as I have today and I did ladies and gentlemen, have the last laugh.

I bought a duvet from the Salvo’s yesterday for Brutus’s crate – he loves his crate and if he doesnt get his afternoon nap, he gets really pissed off and sits outside waiting to go in to his crate – it is ‘boy-zone’ where he goes to eat, have his bones and have his naps.

Anyway, I had washed the duvet and hung it out on the line to dry and more fool me because it dried yesterday and I was too lazy to bring it in. (you know where I am going with this don’t you!)

Abdel and I went out for breakfast this morning – we were not long at all, no more than an hour as Abdel felt a bit unwell with a headache so we came home quickly.

Rocky was left in the garden as he is the guard dog and Brutus had just had his breakfast and was asleep and our neighbour keeps an eye on our property.

Rocky was pissed off we were going out, I know this as he was yelling obscenities from the fence and threatening to self harm if we went out.

A very nice breakfast was had and when we got back home; I let Brutus out into the garden and it had been ‘snowing’ – yes Rocky had pulled the new duvet off the line and had ‘killed it’ on grounds that we had been to a cafe that was not dog friendly instead of his favourite haunt at South Beach and had left him behind.


Lovely morning walk on the beach after breakfast

I swallowed my pride, admitted it was all my fault and picked up the mess. Brutus and Rocky were whispering behind my back and I heard Rocky briefly say ‘I will show you’ but I took no notice and went back inside. More fool me – again because when dogs whisper behind their owners backs, they are usually up to mischief.

We took the boys out for a nice walk to tire them out, it was very hot and Brutus does not do well in the heat like Rocky does, who just adapts accordingly. Brutus however overheats very quickly and this will no doubt pose a problem in the summer, especially as he hates water so a splash pool won’t be of use to him.

When we got back, both boys were knackered and Brutus went for his nap in his kennel and Rocky went on his bed, both boys given a pigs ear as they get one once a week as a treat.

After 30 mins I let them into the garden and I just knew they were plotting something, what that was I do not know as they were whispering and Gordon wouldn’t tell me either.

Suddenly I heard the sound of pegs falling on the floor and I know that sound very well because Rocky has pulled stuff off the line before. He only does it when he has been for a long swim and I hang his towel on the line. He always pulls the towel off, it isn’t boredom as he has done an hour of swimming – he just likes to pull his own towel off the line. So I know that sound of pegs hitting concrete and I know it well.

I went out into the garden and was met with Brutus walking by with my (large) bra in his mouth, the cup covered his head entirely which means Brutus has an ‘E Cup’ size head! He looked positively thrilled to have that bra in his mouth and managed a sheepish wag of the tail when I saw him.

ImageBrutus with my bra in his mouth – not the shadow of Rocky 

Turning round so he couldnt see me, I tried to hide my laughter.

‘Go on Brutus, run!’ Rocky yelled with a mouth full of tennis ball and Brutus ran off with my bra.

I had to take a photo, I just had to – it was too funny. But he was very obedient and when I said ‘Brutus come’, he came back like a good boy and when I said ‘Brutus leave’ – he gave me the bra, but not before Rocky shouted ‘Bastard, I wanted to try that on’.

‘Tranny, lady-boy!’ Gordon shouted from the laundry room.

‘Yeah, and you owe me a bone’ Brutus grinned at Rocky. Bastards, had bet on my bra, the cheeky of it!

Abdel came outside to say goodbye as he had to go to work and we chatted to my neighbour who admired Brutus from over the fence while he bounced exceptionally high in vertical fashion like a bloody kangaroo on springs.

After Abdel had gone to work, I went inside and made a coffee and while I was in the kitchen, I heard it again – peg on concrete.

‘Little bastard’ I muttered and looked through the window to see Brutus joyously running round the garden with my fluffy dressing gown in his mouth, he had found a new game and whilst I could understand if he was never walked nor stimulated mentally, this was done AFTER a long walk, lots of play and toys and a pigs ear! This was a game, his new game and I had to nip that in the bud.

‘Go on, dare ya to take some knickers!’ Rocky yelled from by the fence.

‘Dare you to take some socks!’ Gordon added his part from the laundry room.

‘I dare you to put that back!’ I said firmly and removed the dressing gown from Brutus’s mouth. I almost felt bad as he looked so happy with that dressing gown.

Now in the defence of our dogs, we do expect rather a lot from them. We wear clothes that we put our scent on them, scent that our dogs know is personal to us.

We establish ourselves as their pack leader, we cuddle our dogs wearing our clothes that have our scent.

And then we hang those clothes on the line and expect them to not touch them. Not all dogs do, many don’t but at the moment Brutus is going through a stage where he follows me around, he went through it as a baby and then stopped but each week brings changes with him and since starting puppy school last week, he is a bit insecure but he will gain in confidence again.

It’s just his hormones are having a party and it seems to be a battle with teenage dog Vs baby dog and he is slowly leaving the baby dog in him behind and it’s confusing for him.

Rocky always pulls his swimming towel off the line because he loves the ocean, he loves the smell of the ocean, the sand, the sound of the ocean and everything about it – he cries and shakes when we pull up to South Beach, Rocky loves his towel when it smells of the ocean, so he pulls it off the line – straight after a swim before I have had chance to wash it.

I am sure if I had a swimming pool, I would come home and find Rocky in a pair of budgie smugglers, having a pool party to the local dogs of my suburb as he loves his swimming so very much.


Rocky loves swimming in the ocean and can swim for ages without touching ground

So sometimes, dogs get confused – Brutus likes to bring me my shoes or just cuddle up to them. Gordon likes my dressing gown, well they (the animals) all love that bloody dressing gown.

Anyway, I saved my dressing gown from Brutus and decided that enough was enough, this was war!

Carefully filling up a rubbish sack with a pint of water, I hid Brutus so that he couldnt see what I was doing and I carefully tied the bag on the washing line and then let Brutus out and I hid in the laundry room.

‘What is it?’ Brutus asked as he glanced up at the bag of water.

‘Pair of knickers for a fat girl?’ Rocky said looking confused.

‘Giant testicle?’ Brutus suggested thoughtfully, was it his testicle, surely not, the vet disposed of his months ago and his testicles were like peanuts – but we won’t talk about that as Brutus finds it shameful.

‘Bag of cat shit’ Gordon muttered from the window.

‘Get it, dare you’ Brutus said to Rocky.

‘Bollocks, I am not touching it, you do it’ Rocky told Brutus.

Brutus looked around to see where I was and then did his kangaroo jump and grabbed the bag of water.

Sniggering in anticipation, I thought ‘that will teach you for taking my stuff’.

(sounds of water splashing)

‘Fuck me, what was that!!!!!’ Rocky shouted – he truly looked horrified and ran to the back of the garden and hid by the shed, gingerly sneaking a look at the clothes line as though God himself had appeared and pissed holy urine on the ground – and on Brutus.

‘Bollocks!’ Brutus shouted and looked up at the clothes line and then looked at Rocky, both dogs stared at each other and kept looking up at the clothes line. (seriously!!!)

As for me, I was pissing myself in the laundry room with Gordon, who was wiping his ginger eyes as he cried with laughter.

‘I saw that coming, can’t believe you didn’t!’ Gordon laughed and lit up a cigarette and blew smoke from the side of his mouth as he laughed.

‘Fuck me, God has just pissed on me!’ Brutus shouted and then went to the back door where he stood and looked through the fly screen with water dripping over his back and head.


Where the fuck did that water come from?

Deciding that I had won the ‘war of the bras’, I let the boys in and had to dry Brutus off.

‘Sod off, I am not coming anywhere near that clothes line, why has that not happened before – I need to speak to my lawyer’ Rocky said, embarrassed at being so scared, especially as Gordon was still laughing his ginger arse off.

Brutus looked bloody hilarious dripping with water and initially wouldnt come in as he was still staring at the clothes line.


A confused Brutus

I never told them what I did, I couldn’t – but what was even more funny was after their tea tonight, I let them out into the garden and they skirted round the washing line avoiding it as though it were infected, both looked up accusingly, wracking their brains as to how it pissed water over Brutus’s head. The washing line for now is officially ‘the enemy’.

(Rocky and Brutus in the garden chatting)

‘Well I am buggered if I know what happened but I don’t think I will be stealing bras again’ Brutus said.

‘I am 5 years old and I have never seen such things’ Rocky replied.

(Back in the house…)

‘Double my portions or I tell them the truth’ Gordon said from the dining room table.

I turned round and that little bastard was admiring his nails while giving me the sideways glance.

‘What did you say?’ I asked him.

‘You heard, double my food portions or I tell them it was you that did the water bag’. Gordon said firmly.

‘I will not be bribed by a 7kg talking cat’ I laughed.

‘Rocky, I have something to tell you about the water incident’ Gordon yelled in his loudest ginger voice ever.

‘What’s that!’ Rocky demanded, he and Brutus still hadn’t got to the bottom of it and I didn’t want them to because that was my trump card to stop the future theft of my bras.

‘Ok, OK, I’ll do it!’ I hissed to Gordon who smiled and whispered back ‘Good, of course you will’.

‘What is it Gordon?’ Rocky demanded impatiently.

‘It was bloody funny, that’s what’ Gordon said laughing at Rocky.

‘Wanker’ Rocky muttered under his breath and went back to discuss with Brutus about God and his apparent incontinence issues and his ability to soak people from a washing line.

Gordon looked up at me, there were no words needed – all that was said was what needed to be said.

‘More Snappy Tom Gordon?’ I asked him – feeling a bit pissed off and more than a little blackmailed, or ‘gingermailed’ I should say.

‘Snappy Tom would be lovely and while you are there, could you top up my biscuit’ Gordon replied.


‘Gingermailed (blackmailed) by Gordon

To which I did quite promptly because trust me, this has to be my secret and besides, my bras are from the UK and they need protecting.

They are not cheap either.

Happy Sunday everyone!

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright May 2013

Fight the fight and keep on running!

A while ago I posted a blog about cancer research charities and where does your money go.  I also mentioned about how my attitude to cancer was before my family became a victim to it and how quickly and drastically ones attitude can change once you lose a family member to this disease and for me/us, it was our Mum.  Firstly before I go any further on this, if you would like to see the link to that blog here it is in case you would like to read it:

So cancer had hit my family and devastated us, turned our lives upside down, hurt us, made us angry, we asked questions, we still have no answers and the question that remains in our minds is ‘Why?’ – why our Mum? why our family? why anyone? and why have they not found a cure yet?

But we all got on with our lives, we had to manage the best way we knew how and that was to just carry on.


My Lovely Mum

We came through it as a family, we emerged at the end of a dark and depressing tunnel, we ‘did the deal’ with God and hedged our bets by doing the Cancer Research UK charity fundraiser ‘Race for Life’ where events are set up around the United Kingdom and women all group together to run (or walk) 5km to raise money for the cause because we did not want anyone to go through the pain of a diagnosis of that kind as it is not something you would wish on your worst enemy.

Besides we had suffered cancer once in our family, life would have to be a bitch to strike again – wouldn’t it?  Well I would have (naively) thought so, but I was wrong – we were all wrong.

The following is dedicated to my brave sister Julie

ImageMe (left) and my sister Julie (right)

Julie like many of us at some point in her life, had exhibited some bowel/intestinal symptoms, nothing major and like many of us tend to do with health issues; ignored it until those symptoms became too much to manage until she eventually went to the doctor who referred her to a specialist.

A biopsy was taken and while various tests and scans had been ordered, Julie carried on with everyday life as best she could except now the biopsy had been taken, it had left her in excruciating pain.

I live in Australia but each day I would ask my Dad ‘Has Julie got her results back yet?’

I had briefly toyed with a diagnosis of cancer but only briefly, after all it was too painful to contemplate and if I am honest, I was in that famous Egyptian river of ‘Denial’ because I did not want to believe cancer could even be a possibility.

A day to remember

I remember the day that Julie got her results back as clear as though it were yesterday.  I was doing a video call with my Dad (Face Time) and Julie had called my Dad on his mobile with the news.

She was at the hospital and had been called in to get her results to be told that she had rectal cancer, Julie was on her own that day and you can imagine how devastating it must have been to be told that when you have nobody with you?

Julie broke the news to Dad over the phone while at the same time I sat at my computer and watched Dad’s face on the video call.  As she told him the news I saw Dad’s face fall as he said ‘Cancer, Oh no’.  I also remember feeling sick, dizzy and wanting to scream ‘No, not my sister, not my family, not again!’

That very afternoon Julie was to see the Macmillan Cancer Nurse specialist. And in the space of a few hours – Julie’s life had changed and yet again that bastard called ‘Cancer’ had invaded our family.

Why had this happened? Why our family again and why Julie? We had all done Race for Life and we had all donated to cancer charities, where was this cure that the experts kept saying was so close?

After diagnosis – plan for treatment

To our relief the scans had shown that the cancer had not spread. Never have I been so happy to see Julie’s face on video chat to tell me that news and apparently the success rate with treatment was high which trust me, is something to hang on to and be happy about.  When it comes to cancer; you learn very quickly to take each day at a time and be thankful for small blessings.

Julie was to have a couple of weeks (spaced apart) of intensive back to back high dose chemotherapy and spend 5 days in hospital and also an intensive cycle of high dose radiotherapy aimed directly at the area.

The chemotherapy made her sick, like really sick – imagine nausea in its worst form and then double it.  Imagine not being able to eat normal foods and what you can eat is so limited and Julie could only tolerate baked potatoes and even then, that was a struggle.  Strong cooking smells made her sick (and still do) and to add to that little bundle of side effects, Julie also gets mouth ulcers so even the limited food she can tolerate hurts her mouth terribly.

Being in hospital was exceptionally hard for Julie, you forge friendships with people whose treatment may not be as successful as yours and the outcome often devastating, these people become your friends in a way that no-one else can understand and if anything should happen to them, it is taken personally and hits hard.

Julie tells me that she is a member of a little club called ‘The Radiotherapy Club’ where she and other patients have become friends, forged bonds and have plans to all meet up and go out for a meal once they are well enough.  It is an exclusive club that only they will understand and anyone that has not been through what they have, would not belong.

Work was and still is out of the question for the time being, although Julie has finished her cycle of chemo/radiotherapy for the time being, she is still too unwell to work.  The UK benefits system is as such that whatever Julie is entitled to, will not cover her living expenses so that is another worry added to her pile – finances.

Pain – anyone that has had radiotherapy will tell you how much it hurts/burns and Julie has  severe ulcerated burns to the radiotherapy target point on her body – pelvis/groin area, and a couple of weeks ago these became infected and she had the beginnings of septicemia and was treated with high dose antibiotics.  In fact, Julie informs me that her fridge is full of medicine instead of food and that painkillers are now her best friend.

Well meaning ‘advice’

People are generally well meaning but Julie also had to contend with other people telling her what she should and shouldn’t be doing and how ‘herbs can cure cancer’ and you have no idea of how offensive that can be to have someone say that to you.

Julie has quite rightly decided to have faith in her doctors and specialists and put her trust in them to fight her disease and whilst she is touched that other people are thinking of her, conventional medicine is the path she has chosen.

Because at the end of the day the only person that can truly understand what chemo and radiotherapy is really like, is someone that has gone through it themselves the rest of us can only guess.

Where is Julie at now?

Julie is waiting for her next scan which will tell her if the treatment has worked or if she will need further chemo/radiotherapy and/or surgery and is simply taking one day at a time.

So much has happened in a relatively short space of time but she has done it, she has gone through treatment that has made her sick, shut down her immune system and caused intense pain and infection.

Julie has made friends of equal bravery and strength and has been on the biggest learning curve and journey of her life.  A journey that she has had to go on and no matter how hard it becomes; when it comes to pain, fear, and difficult treatment choices, she travels it alone when it comes to the overwhelming fear and thoughts that march through her head at night.


Once again my family are asking ‘Why?’ Why has it affected our family again? Why have they not found a cure for this disease, we have hedged our bets and done our bit for cancer charities, we always drop money into the tin, I have done Race for Life a couple of times or more so why?

Well whilst I don’t know the answer as to why cancer has turned up uninvited into my family yet again, I do know that in order to find a cure for it; the research has to continue and running in ‘Race for Life’ a couple of times is not enough.

Because when it comes to cancer and a cure – it is one race that you have to keep on running in – for as long as it takes, you run it for yourself, you run it for your loved ones and while you are running that race; you pray that along the way the money that you raise will find that elusive cure.

Colo-rectal Cancer – don’t die of embarrassment

As quoted from the cancer research UK website, the earlier this cancer is detected, the easier it is to treat and the better the success rate.

If you notice any change in your bowel habits – the slightest of things that are not normal for you, then swallow your pride and embarrassment and go to your GP.

If you have a family history of this type of cancer then ask your GP if you can be screened because early screening detects the potential for cancer before it develops.

I myself, have just had my colonoscopy to screen for this type of cancer and I am ashamed to admit that I have had symptoms for about 10 years – bleeding when I go to the toilet, constipation  etc.  As I have an auto immune disease, these symptoms often go hand in hand with that; and that is what I put it down to.

Not wanting to go through that embarrassing examination, I just lived with the symptoms.  Then when Julie was diagnosed my embarrassment seemed well, now embarrassing if you like and I swallowed my pride and saw my GP who organized a semi urgent referral to our local hospital.

About a month later I was called in to have a colonoscopy which in the end, the most unpleasant part of it was the fasting and having to drink some vile lemon tasting stuff that cleaned out your bowels!

The best part of that colonoscopy was the doctor telling me that everything was normal but as I was a high risk (family history), I was to have them done every five years and to me, that is a small price to pay for early detection.

So please listen to your body because if your bowel habits have changed, if things don’t feel quite right – then get it get checked out because chances are that it may be nothing but until you get it checked, you will never know and you might just find that the embarrassment that stopped you going to your doctors in the first place, will be the very thing that could turn your life upside down if you are diagnosed with a cancer that could have been treated or prevented.

If you would like more information on bowel cancer – here is a link to the Cancer Research UK site.

 A message to Julie

Julie, I don’t know how or where you have found the courage to deal with what you are going through and I am in awe of your bravery.

Having such aggressive treatment that makes you feel so sick and causes you so much pain is hard enough but having it on such an intensive basis with each dose making you more sick than the last is even harder, yet you don’t complain and you get on with it and handle it with dignity and strength.

You are unable to work due the effects of the drugs, and because of the area that the radiotherapy is aimed at, even basic things that we take for granted such as walking and ordinary movement must be so excruciatingly painful for you.  Yet you still force yourself to get out and about to keep yourself moving.

As you know, Race for Life became significant when we lost Mum – we did our bit, not expecting cancer to hit our family twice.  But it has and once again, we realize that life goes on and as long as we are alive we have a life worth fighting for.

Which is why I am so damned proud of you for entering Race for Life this year when I know how crap you are feeling and how hard it will be for you, both physically and mentally.

So no matter what this disease chucks at us, we are and always will be ‘Team Stocken’ and we will fight it, and whilst I can’t be with you all to do the run, you can bet your life on the fact I will be thinking of you every step of the way.

208300_6465598316_3624_n‘Team Stocken’ – a force to be reckoned with

Good luck for the race Julie, I am so proud of you and I love you so much so don’t ever forget that.

Cancer Research UK – ‘Race for Life’

This particular race has never been more significant than it has for Julie and this time she is not just doing it for our Mum, she is doing it for herself and ultimately to raise money to fund treatment and a cure.

This time she will not be competing as a healthy woman, she will be competing with  cancer but don’t be fooled, she is far from a victim.  Julie will still be fighting the highly toxic effects of chemo/radiotherapy and she will do this with one aim and one aim only and that is to raise as much money as possible.

Every single donation is significant and will inspire Julie and every km walked will pose a painful challenge for her but I have every faith that she will do it.

Cancer does not discriminate and it is a chameleon in the sense that it takes the face of each and everyone that it affects and knows no boundaries.  It turns up in your family uninvited and no matter how many times it does, we have to keep fighting it to find a cure and we cannot give up on the belief that one will be found.

Don’t wait until you become a victim of cancer before you start supporting cancer research, so please – ‘keep on running’.

Here is the link to Julie’s page if you would like to donate.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright May 2013

Brutus goes to puppy school



Brutus – looking forward to puppy school!

‘I can’t find my school bag, Mum, where is my school bag?’ Brutus shrieked in a panic.

Rocky was lying on his bed rolling his eyes at Gordon, he could afford to be confident you see as he had done puppy school himself back in 2010, although he started it later than Brutus, much later in fact and was one of the oldest dogs there but he still did his time, excluding the fact he missed two lessons due to his hip dysplasia.

Gordon was on his favourite chair smoking a rolled up catnip cigarette and blowing smoke from his nostrils – it came out in strange shapes and that never fails to amuse me.

‘Don’t forget to do a turd by the big tree where all the dogs meet and if you sniff round all the bags, you might find something tasty’ Rocky said, Gordon sniggered as he exhaled on his fag and then flicked ash on to the chair and rubbed it in with his paw, making it go all grey.

ImageRocky and Gordon tease Brutus about school

‘Do a crap by the tree? But I always crap in the garden at home?’ Brutus said, looking a touch anxious.

‘Right, that is your bag packed for tomorrow – vaccination certificate, your homework sheets, I have researched about your breeding – Rhodesian Ridgeback and of course I know about kelpies, a water bowl, bottle of water, poo bags and your breakfast puppy meal allocation for treats and rewards’ I said firmly and then added ‘And no, you do not take a shit by the tree or steal food from other dogs school bags’. Glaring at Rocky as I said it.

I had planned to buy tasty meaty treats for Brutus tomorrow but the vet said due to Brutus being prone to colitis, he has to stick rigidly to his own diet and a measured amount of it and so far, it seems to be working.

Actually talking of vets, Brutus and Rocky were at the vet tonight, Rocky had his hip injection and Brutus came along for the ride. Rocky adores going to our vet and dragged me across the car park so he could say hello to his nurses and the vet, Brutus decided that he too liked going to the vet and assisted in helping Rocky drag me to the door.

‘You are a bit keen aren’t you?’ A chunky chocolate Labrador shouted as he waited by the gate.

‘Cuddles from the nurses’ Rocky replied simply and told Brutus to get a move on.

The Labrador nodded in recognition but then told Rocky that he hoped it was worth it because he had just had a finger up his arse to empty his anal glands and even the liver treats afterwards were a poor consolation prize although being a Labrador, there was very little if anything that he wouldn’t eat – anal glands or not.

‘Hi girls, I am here, how have you been – it’s been too long, you never phone, we never catch up!’ Rocky said in a breathless voice as he greeted his favourite nurse. Checking him in at reception, I took both the boys to the scales where Rocky weighed in at 20.7kgs – he had lost a bit of weight but the vet said he is in rude health. He has also gained muscle tone and condition overall due to the fact he is constantly playing with Brutus.

Brutus surprised me, he didn’t weigh nearly as much as I had thought, 17.7kgs, I thought he was at least 20kgs, but the vet assured me that he is the perfect weight. So I guess I was making him fat before as I wasn’t sure how much he was supposed to weigh, still I/We are on a learning curve.

Rocky had his hip injection and Brutus had a check over and the vet said Brutus has a lovely temperament and is so trusting, Rocky had already advised Brutus which nurses to flirt with and how to wash the vets neck and Brutus now agrees with Rocky that the vets is a very nice place to be indeed – until you get a finger up your arse of course which Rocky does frequently and the look on his face is priceless because I swear that he blushes.

Rocky claims he needs counselling for dog abuse each time he has his anal glands emptying and Gordon didn’t help by buying him the ‘Brokeback Mountain’ DVD but that is another story and a rather adult one at that.

Anyway, back to tonight – everything is packed and I had just put the dogs to bed, telling Brutus that he had to get some sleep as we have to be at puppy group for 9am.

‘Don’t forget to write a note with ‘turd legs’ and stick it on the teachers back’ Rocky said to Brutus.

(sniggering from Gordon)

‘Mum’ Brutus shouted while I was in the kitchen.

‘Yes Brutus’ I replied

‘Will they teach me how to be a good boy, Rocky said that is impossible’

‘You are already a good boy Brutus, they will just teach you other nice and fun stuff’ I reassured him. I could just see the black tufts above his eyes as he snuggled down into his crate – he looked so cute.

ImagePuppy dreams!

‘They are going to steal your anal glands’ Gordon shouted from the dining area.

‘Mum, are they going to steal my anal glands’ Brutus cried.

(Rocky snorting with laughter)

‘No Brutus, they won’t go near your anal glands’ I told him.

‘Mum, will the other dogs bash me up?’ Brutus asked – god he was being persistent.

‘No Brutus, they won’t bash you up, you will make friends, learn manners and get treats for doing it’ I told him.

‘Mum’ Brutus said in a quiet voice.

‘Yes Brutus’ I said while making a drink.

‘Is my bag packed’ The little dog asked desperately.

‘Yes Brutus, your bag is packed’.

‘Brutus’ Rocky said in a tired voice.

‘Yes Rocky’ Brutus lifted his head up and looked at Rocky who was snuggled up on his bed.

‘Shut the fuck up’ Rocky laughed and winked affectionately at the fractious puppy.

‘Goodnight Mum’ Brutus yelled and put his head down.

‘Night Brutus’ I replied to him.

‘Night Mum’ Rocky said – that was unusual for him, he normally crashes and falls asleep at night.

‘Night Rocky’ I laughed.

‘Goodnight Gordon’ Brutus shouted to the fat ginger Tom on who was now sitting on the dining room table.

‘What are we, the fucking Waltons?’ Gordon piped up.

‘Language Gordon, language’ I burst out laughing – honestly it was so funny, you should have been there – Gordon swears in a ginger voice and if you don’t know what I mean by that and you have a ginger cat, go and piss him off and you will find out for yourself that all cats have their own voices, especially gingers.

And that my dears, is that – it is now 12.35am, I really ought to get to sleep as I have a rather over excited pup to take to dog school.

Have a nice weekend everyone.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright May 2013

It’s Raining Cats and Dogs! – (warning contains bad language and talking animals!)


We are currently as I type, starting a thunder storm – lightening is lighting up my pathway, deep rumbles of thunder can be heard despite the TV being loud and Rocky who is trying so hard to prove himself as head man over Brutus, has been reduced to a quivering wreck and as I can’t afford a thunder jacket for him, I am trying to find alternative ways like singing stupid songs to my animals (yes really).

Brutus is looking perplexed and confused by the loud clap of thunder we have just had, but even more offended by me singing ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary’, Rocky didn’t care and was shaking the shit out of himself by my feet and Gordon just told me to piss right off with that noise and that he preferred the sound of thunder.

ImageNothing phases Gordon

‘Jesus Christ on a bike, we are all going to die, save yourselves and your kittens’ Rocky shrieked in a high pitched voice as I tried to eat my apple.

Deciding that I had to share my apple with Rocky as he loves apples, I bit off a piece ‘one for you, and one for me’ I told him.

‘What about me?’ Brutus shouted, oh god, it meant giving the Diarrhoea Brother a new food and trying him on a piece of apple and praying he didnt crap the bed later.

(lightening followed by loud clap of thunder)

‘Bugger me, that is awful!’ Brutus screamed loudly and looked at the ceiling as though it had assaulted him.

‘And some apple for Brutus’ I said in a happy voice – bloody hell, I could feel Rocky shaking.

‘You two are nothing but a pair of girls, you want loud? You wanna be in the hold of a Qantas jet like I was when I flew here from London’ Gordon said smugly and lit up a cigarette – bastard, he knows he can’t smoke in the house.

‘Brutus, we need to build an air raid shelter – get the supplies in before the rains come and we can sing war songs’ Rocky said literally sobbing, yet trying to remain all ‘alpha’.

‘Bollocks to this, this cannot be normal’ Brutus shouted – his little head creased with concern at the noise – which was probably more from me singing the second verse of the song.

ImageBrutus is not amused with the thunder

‘We are all going to die!’ Rocky cried.

‘Fuck me, I have only just got my big dog teeth through and I haven’t had a chance to use them’ Sobbed Brutus, totally wound up by Rocky while I just simply stopped singing and turned up the TV and ignored them.

‘Don’t you care?’ Brutus shouted and then added ‘You will when we run out of puppy meal and we all starve to death and have to eat bones from the garden’

‘You don’t half talk shit Brutus’ Gordon sighed and then flashed him his bum, knowing that Brutus likes to clean it of an evening. Brutus however was not interested in this fine display of feline ginger bottom.


Gordon tells Brutus all kinds of horror stories about thunder

‘Damn it, I am dead – I have been shot by God from the skies, I am sure I have’ Rocky whimpered and then superglued himself to my feet by the table while checking his belly for gunshot wounds by God.

By now I am swigging my tea (nice cup of Yorkshire tea with one sugar) and watching some animation film on 7Two, while waiting for my crime series to start, when I could hear the sounds of the heavens opening.

‘God is taking a pee!’ Gordon yelled happily, he was so excited – he loves watching storms from the window.

Brutus looked horrified and then looked up at me and said ‘I don’t want God peeing on my head’

‘Brutus, it’s rain – just ignore Gordon, he is teasing you’ I told him firmly.

‘Oh my god, build Noahs Arc, we are going to die – go and get the Zebra!’ Rocky cried noisily from beneath my feet.

Gordon was snorting with laughter at the commotion and then went into the story of how he played Poker with some zoo animals in the hold of the plane from London to Singapore – how true that is I don’t know as I only have Gordon’s word for it, still, it makes for a nice story.

(sounds of farting and smells of shit)

‘Who did that?’ Gordon spluttered from the sofa, and put his ginger paw over his nose and started making choking noises while trying to comfort Brutus.

ImageGordon and Brutus discuss Rocky’s wind problem

‘Sorry, it’s my stomach, my nerves have kicked in – are we dead yet?’ Rocky replied.

‘I didn’t know I was dead, Mum – tell him, am I dead? Please tell me I am not dead!” Brutus yelped as the thunder rattled.

‘Will you all stop it now! Brutus, Rocky is talking shit, Rocky – stop talking shit and stop smelling of shit, you are not dead and Gordon stop stirring shit!’ Honestly, it was like dealing with children.

‘Oh that’s it, I am going!’ Gordon made vomiting sounds as he gagged, and even Rocky blushed at his own wind.

‘Ooops, I think it may have been my heartworm chew coupled up with my nerves and the thunder’ Rocky replied going red at his own smell.

ImageRocky admits his wind problem and puts it down to nerves

‘Fuck me you stink Rocky, go to the toilet now!’ Gordon shouted from the safety of his bedroom.

Even Brutus looked mortified and disgusted at the smells that came from his brothers arse ‘You do Rocky, you smell of bad stomach’.

‘Will you all be quiet and calm down – it is only a thunder storm and it will be over shortly’ (I said hopefully).

(sounds of silence)

‘Mum?’ Brutus asked.

Taking another mouthful of my nearly cold tea, I replied ‘Yes Brutus?’

Brutus stared at me with his cute little pinhead (he has a pinhead) ‘Do you fart when you are scared?’

(sounds of Gordon laughing from the spare room)

Rocky looked up and forgot his fear for a bit and sniggered.

Oh dear god, Dogs ask the most embarrassing of questions don’t they?

‘Yes Brutus but mine smell of roses’. I told him.

‘Awesome’ Brutus said and put his head down in his basket.

‘You are so going to hell for that lie’ Rocky whispered to me as he lay in his basket, he knew the truth.

ImageRocky knows the truth…

And all you could hear after that were the sounds of Gordon gulping with laughter from his bedroom.

ImageGordon found the whole episode hilarious!

Now I shall finish my tea and as it has gone cold, I shall be a devil and make another one and hopefully this time I will get to drink it in peace.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright May 2013

Donkey Diaries! – you can take the dog out of the Pilbara…..

ImageDonkey with his squeaky burger toy

As many of you know, Donkey had found a wonderful home in Perth with a lovely couple.  He enjoyed the beach life, his home life and continuing his incredible skill of raiding the pantry on a daily basis, sorting out the rubbish in the bins – on the basis of one should never pass up an opportunity of a good ‘bin feed’.

Whilst everything was looking good for him, sadly due to no fault of his own, Donkey’s owner suffered a relationship break up and had to move house and due to unavoidable circumstances, Donkey had to be re-homed.   It was decided that Donkey would be flown back to Karratha to go into foster care.  So armed with his toys, a bed ,leash and a muzzle (some dogs he likes, some dogs he doesn’t and cats are definitely not welcome!)

Last week Donkey landed back in the Pilbara and was met by his foster mum Sue.  Sue informed me that it was lovely to see Donkey’s nose twitching in recognition of the familiar smells of Karratha (and I don’t mean from the skimpies bar!).  He truly seemed to recognize it and remembered exactly where he was and even looked happy to be back.

‘I know this place, I remember that sand, can we go to the skimpies bar?’ Donkey said excitedly as he sat in the car.

Sue smiled at him and said that no he could not go to the skimpies bar, it was late and he was going back to her house with her dog Malcolm.

‘That’s OK’ Donkey said happily as he strained his head to look out of the window, the smells were so familiar and whilst he had enjoyed his life in Perth and his owner was a lovely lady, he knew within himself that he had come home.

As Sue let him into her home, Donkey was somewhat more subdued around Malcolm.  Having been a bit of a bully/bossy dog in the past, he and Malcolm had not always seen eye to eye.  Being full of testosterone hadn’t helped either but now it had been several months since Donkey had been de-sexed and his hormone levels had dropped considerably and he no longer wanted to boss Malcolm around, although Malcolm still had not forgiven him and that was obvious.

Within an hour, Donkey had made himself at home and before bed time, Donkey had remembered his favorite past time of raiding the pantry – Donkey was home and things were back to normal and Sue realized just how much she loved having him there – bin and pantry raiding and all!

Handsome Prince and his new best friend.

Do you remember me telling you about Handsome Prince (HP as he is known), who is in charge of the yard and he helped in the big escape of Donkey when Donkey flew to Perth in a flurry of TC Narelle?  Well in case you need your memory jogging, here is a photograph of HP on his motorized scooter and no, he is not disabled – in fact he has a rather cracking pair of legs, he just thinks the scooter is better to get around the yard on.  Donkey happens to agree with him and is currently plotting ways to share the scooter with HP, but whether or not that works out is anyone’s guess.

ImageHP on his ‘mean machine’ – just look at those sexy legs!

So there we have it, Donkey is back in the Pilbara and he most certainly has had the biggest adventures from the SAFE rescue dogs.  What is to become of the tatty little terrier mix that really doesn’t like cats and is particularly fussy with certain dogs but adores people and squeaky toys?

Well it would appear the answer may be closer than one would think, why? I hear you ask, well I shall tell you.

Donkey is a bit of a ‘mans dog’, in the short time he has been back in Karratha, he goes to work with Sue and enjoys hanging out in the yard and especially loves hanging around the boys at smoko time and he has his own secure and safe area to keep him in.

He gets excited when he sees guys in high viz, he just likes hanging out with the lads and basically he is a mans dog and will happily pass on the luxuries and home comforts of life in favour of sitting round the smoko table with the boys and keeping an eye on the trucks that come in to the yard.

 ImageDonkey in his high viz – ‘one of the lads’

Donkey has taken quite a shine to HP (Handsome Prince), probably due to HP heroically coming along with the bolt cutters to help him escape when he first left Karratha.  In fact I have heard on the canine grapevine that HP and Donkey have shared a coffee and a burger and a good yarn on many an occasion.

HP has even let Donkey drive the forklift around the yard, although Donkey is not the best of drivers and attempted to drive to the skimpies bar instead but the least said about that episode the better as HP had to go and bring him back and explain to the locals why a large terrier was sitting in the skimpies bars trying to put dog bones in the undies of the girls.

ImageDonkey just before he drove off in the forklift

Donkey really appears to have found himself in the haulage yard and reckons HP could teach him a thing or two about being a bloke.

HP and Donkey were playing cards last night, enjoying a beer and Donkey was happily relaying tales of Perth and the beaches and how the female dogs there are up for anything but he really does rather prefer it in Karratha.

‘I am not having a dog!’ HP said firmly to Sue, and he meant it, honestly he did.  Donkey sat hiding behind a road train, his super large ears could tune in to anything and would hear everything – he could even track police cars with his satellite ears not to mention listen to the truckies chatting on their radios.

ImageDonkey – listening to HP talking

Donkey bit his lip and put his head down, surely he wouldn’t be sent away from this yard when he fitted in so well with the boys?

It was no good, he would have to try harder – he would even try and not hate cats so much, perhaps it was because he didn’t like cats? After all, he didn’t mean to go for Gordon the cat in Perth, but the sight of the overweight ginger tom cat through the baby gate was too much even for Donkey to stand.

‘He doesn’t like cats’ Sue told HP over coffee one afternoon, and then added ‘Like he really hates them’.

HP looked up thoughtfully from his coffee and then glanced over to Donkey who was curled up under the parked road train.  ‘Cats you say? Does he really hate cats?’ HP said and then took a swig of his coffee.

‘Cats are bastards!’ Donkey blurted out, unable to contain himself, he said it so loudly that even HP heard him.

Staring at the little dog, HP looked suitably impressed.  Putting down his coffee cup, HP whistled to Donkey who was still under the road train pretending to be deaf, he wouldn’t tell HP that he had in fact heard everything.

‘Come on lad’ HP called to Donkey and then walked towards the road train.

Donkey’s ears pricked up and he ran towards HP who was now standing by the door of the road train.

ImageDonkey and HP discuss ‘road train stuff’

‘Wow, this is awesome!’ Donkey said in a rather excited voice, he loved trucks/road trains and had his legs been long enough, he would have jumped in right there and then.

Smiling down at Donkey, HP looked on thoughtfully, a dog that loves high viz, loves hanging out with the boys, enjoys a smoko with the lads, eats anything that you put in front of him and hates cats – really he was a perfect yard dog.

‘Donkey, we have a huge feral cat problem here, reckon you can chase em’ off?’ HP said to Donkey as they were both admiring the prime mover.

‘Reckon I can, you won’t have any feral cats while I am here – I can chase them off for you’ Donkey said firmly and he meant it too and even poor old Gordon could testify to that as Donkey had chased him a few times when he lived in Perth.

‘HP’ Donkey said in a quiet voice, barely daring to speak.

‘Yes Donkey’ HP replied.

‘Can I go back in the forklift again?’  Donkey whispered, he thought that if he whispered then a refusal would not be so bad.

‘Go on then’ HP laughed.

And off Donkey ran to the forklift and jumped right up in the seat all by himself.


Donkey riding high!

So that is where we are at.  Currently Donkey is being cared for by Sue and comes to work with her in the yard with her Handsome Prince and Donkey has his own space and enjoys hanging out with the boys at smoko time, he gets fed all kinds of tasty scraps and gets to ride the forklift and keep an eye on the road trains (when they are parked of course).  He has his own high viz vest, his own squeaky hamburger toys and of course, he gets to hang out with HP which he loves to do – basically he is a mans dog!


Donkey and his squeaky burger toy!

ImageDonkey and his mate – HP

What will happen with Donkey? Who knows, not me that’s for sure.  What do HP and Donkey find to talk about when they are hanging round the road trains?  Well that my friends, is between the HP and Donkey and is something that none of us will ever know – not even Sue.

More news as it happens but for the moment Donkey remains in Karratha.  He has had quite some journey so far and has some tales to tell but one thing is for sure, you can take the dog out of the Pilbara but you cannot take the Pilbara out of the dog!

ImageDonkey – a proper ‘Yard Dog’

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright May 2013

Sjogrens and the benefits of tear duct cauterization

ImageMy left eye immediately after punctal cauterization

Punctal plugs Vs Cauterization of the tear ducts

I have had punctal plugs in both eyes (lower) for quite some time now and although up until recently they have been tolerable, because I literally have zero tear production, I have been able to feel them when I do the slightest eye movement and not only did it feel as though I had grit in my eye thus giving me an urge to rub my eyes to relieve them, it was also a constant and blunt reminded of my Sjogrens.

I had seen my eye specialist and had asked him if I could have them permanently cauterized shut and he agreed but said that I could only have one done at a time just to see how if it would be successful.  My left eye was done last week and my right eye is due to be done in 8 weeks.

The procedure itself

I had some local anesthetic eye drops put in my left eye, the plug removed and then I had to lie on a bed where I was given a small injection around the tear duct, sorry I cannot be more specific on this but as you can imagine, I couldn’t see exactly what was being done   and where.

It was only a tiny fine needle but when you see it coming towards your eye, it is quite nerve-wracking – well it was for me anyway.  The injection did sting slightly and was a tiny bit uncomfortable but it took effect quickly and within seconds I could feel nothing at all.

The procedure itself was completely painless, honestly I could not feel a thing at all and it was all over and done with so quickly, before I knew it I was in reception making an appointment for my right eye (and paying the cash for my left!)


It was a few hours later that my eye began to sting and felt bruised, not really bad I must emphasize but uncomfortable and for a few days afterwards I had severe itching.  My specialist advised me to get some new reading glasses so I mentioned the itching to my optician and he assured me it was part of the healing process, my eye drops helped with this.

Has this made a difference – plugs Vs cauterization?

What has been noticeable for me is that I do not have that gritty annoying feeling in my left eye, it almost feels normal.  Normal in the sense that it is still dry and still requires drops every 5 minutes or so if I can remember, but I don’t have the constant Sjogrens reminder which to a healthy person may seem daft but to a person with Sjogrens, having that constant awareness of your punctal plugs and being able to feel them, is a constant reminder of your auto immune disease.  You may get what I am saying or you may not, I am just explaining how I feel.

For me it has been a good investment and I am looking forward to getting my right eye done in June and now I know what to expect, I will find it easier.  The worst bit is the injection and even then, I have experienced far worse in the form of blood tests etc.  The best bit – finally losing the gritty feeling in the right eye and being able to rub my eyes without worrying about dislodging the plugs.

In my personal opinion it is well worth doing.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright 2013