Its a tough life.

These funny little mud-mountains have been popping up all over the park.  Mum says they are molehills.  I reckon that where there are molehills there are moles - I would love to meet a mole so I do a little excavating to see if I can find one home ... so far, no luck.

molehill before Cally

molehill after Cally

But I am determined and I just know if I keep digging.....

You know, when you come to think about it, the odds are stacked against us GSPs.  Rabbits and moles disappear under the ground, squirrels nip up the nearest tree and pheasants fly off squawking.  Sometimes life just aint fair.

... did I say that?  I must have known ...... both Mum and Dad have just attacked me with a bowl of suddsy water ... I have been soaped within an inch of my life .... dried and, oh the horror of it - sprayed with groom spray, which is just the equivalent of doggie deodorant!  Oh the cruelty.  Fancy them being so mean when all I did was have a lovely roll in the middle of the field.  Well, yes, there was a trifle of fox poo there, okay, maybe a bit more than a trifle .... but does that justify their behavior?  ... and its not the first time I have been subjected to this treatment.  I ask you, all that fuss because of a totally superficial coating of fox poo.

Oh wait a minute, I think I see some corned beef coming my way ... perhaps life isn't quite so bad after all ....