Basil Returns

I hate the vet’s and make for the door as soon as I can, but yesterday it was beyond me. And before I knew it the vet had whisked me away for “treatment” (incarceration).

They put me on fluids and intravenous antibiotics, and yet my temperature remained low. I was damn cold, and could have done with my blanket from home.

‘He’s got a bad case of gastro, and his temperature’s still down,’ the vet said. ‘I want to keep him in overnight.’

No. I wanted my bed, my house, my pack, but I was trapped.

Morning, and another couple of nurses tried to put something where they shouldn’t. Well, I showed them, I can tell you. Bet they let me out after that, I thought.

Me, Basil, sunbathing

Me, Basil, sunbathing

‘His temperature’s back to normal,’ the vet was back on the phone. ‘In fact he tried to nip one of the nurses as they took his temperature. I’m happy for you to administer antibiotics at home.’

Bingo, Jaq’s on her way. I am officially on the mend.

I couldn’t leave that place fast enough, though Jaq held me back as she paid the bill, saying she could have a night at Claridge’s for that.

I’m back, though Jaq says I’m quiet and the washing machine is bugging me more than normal. I’m going to sunbathe, that’s the answer.

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Basil is Unwell

Me, BasilIt started yesterday with a brief vomit en route to the park, but I rallied and ran around with my mates Wilfie and Coco, and I also met up with JJ, the ratter. Well, I say “the ratter”, JJ, a Jack Russell had dip dyed himself half black after taking a dip in the swampy ditch at the end of the park in hot pursuit of a rat.

JJ smelt the rat, jumped in and then realised it was above him. It was in a hollowed out part of the bank, and made a swift exit before JJ could jump him.

Anyhow, back to me, as the day wore on I felt queasy. I still had my afternoon walk but I didn’t eat supper and instead went out and consumed a load of grass.

Later, the grass all came back up along with my breakfast. And in the night I was sick repeatedly and there was blood in my vomit and faeces. Jaq encouraged me to drink and wrapped me in a blanket. She looked worried.

First thing I was taken to the vet and that is where I remain.

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Don’t Forget About Me

Me, Basil, at the back door

Me, Basil, at the back door

We have our routines. First thing Jaq lets me out to do my business, then she wakes the junior members of the pack, Zeddy and Bee. I get fed, as do they, and then Zeddy and Bee leave to go wherever they go every day while Jaq takes a shower and I turn up on the rug in the bedroom ready for my morning tummy rub.

Today, however, I went out in the garden an extra time while everyone was eating breakfast. It was such a sunny, spring day and more to the point there were birds hopping around my territory pulling up worms.

So, I’m out there chasing and barking and sniffing around, and it was only a while later that I realised Zeddy and Bee had gone and Jaq was nowhere to be seen.

Well, what’s a little guy to do but bark at the back door.

I knew where I was supposed to be: on a rug, on my back, ready for my tummy rub and yet I couldn’t get in there.

I barked and barked and eventually there was Jaq. She opened the back door, and boy was she happy to see me. She was laughing and saying something like, ‘Whoops, did I leave you out there?’

I made a big fuss of her. I mean she must have really missed me.

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Sunshine and Friends

Me, Basil, and friends in the sunshine

Me, Basil, and friends in the sunshine

Met my besties, Wilf and Coco, en route to the park, and what could be better? The sun was shining and loads more pals turned up: Barney, Big Basil, and Maxi, and we later ran into Cara, Tashi and Murphy.

I particularly like Barney’s human, Eva, because she always throws a ball for me. She’s read up about dogs and says it’s the anticipation we love. This means she makes me wait a while before she flings that ball. An-tic-i-pa-tion. Eva’s right. I love it.

Coco rolled, and I don’t know what her human was moaning about because she smelt foxy.

Back home chillin’. Hold on, I saw movement – gotta go chase a squirrel.

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Doggy Sleepover

Me, Basil, on the sofa and Zeb

Me, Basil, on the sofa and Zeb

Zeb stayed over. He’s the big black guy (a flat-coated retriever) and I was pretty jumpy at first.

I mean, it’s my territory and he was all over it, circling every room and sniffing out the garden.

He even jumped the fence into next door. The neighbours won’t fix it for some reason so Jaq’s blocked it as best she can (there’s another story about that fence I must tell at some point), anyhow, I can’t get through but Zeb can.

Jaq called him back, but he may well have dumped and his poops are giant-sized. Perhaps they’ll fix that fence some time soon.

Zeb chilling after our walk

Zeb chilling after our walk

Zeb is fast and I struggled to keep up at the park. I did a lot of barking, not that Zeb cared. He ignores me most of the time and that makes me bark more.

Zeb took a dip in the muddy ditch and that got Jaq barking at him, and it only got worse when he snuck through the fence to the golf club.

He did return eventually and to be honest after a couple of days I got used to having him around, though it was tough to see Zeb’s massive sack of food sitting there and the size of his meals compared to mine – that dog sure can eat.

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The Joy of Rolling

Me, Basil, rolling

Me, Basil, rolling

Me, Basil, rolling again

Me, Basil, rolling again

My park is half-flooded. Jaq says, ‘It’s a floodplain and is doing what it’s supposed to do’. I think it’s something to do with the river that’s on one side. But, whatever, I don’t mind although it puts part of the park out of action it looks different and there are loads of birds to chase. And even better than that, I’ve been rolling.

Me, Basil, rolling some more

Me, Basil, rolling some more

There is nothing I like better than rolling, though Jaq doesn’t get it. She usually shouts.

The ground is soft right now and foxes are definitely visiting and today that’s what I rolled in – the stuff they left. Jaq was not happy and I was hosed down immediately back home.

Yesterday it was worms. I love rolling on dead worms. I don’t mind if they’re squidgy or already drying out, I just love that smell and love to roll – pure joy.


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Me, Basil, foxcatcher

Me, Basil, foxcatcher

I’m a little out of sorts. Jaq and Daz were out last night and Zeddy and Bee (the younger humans in my pack) were running riot: raiding the kitchen cupboards, playing loud music and staying up late. It was a relief to see Jaq arrive home.

Only, I soon detected an intruder in my territory. I was flipping out at the back door, begging to be let out. Jaq put the outdoor light on to illuminate the garden and sure enough there, jumping the fence at the end, was a fox.

Cara, the Tibetan Terrier, and me Basil

Cara, the Tibetan Terrier, and me Basil

Jaq wouldn’t let me out. She has a morbid fear of my vulnerability, but I’m a dog, programmed to defend my land and I felt thwarted. I’ve been sulking, (in between fox patrols), ever since.

Saying that, this morning’s trip to the park was good despite the grey English weather.

Dog  club were out in force: Wilf, Coco, Maxi and Tashi and Cara (Tibetan Terriers).

Back home, I’m back on fox watch.

Well, after my nap -.

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Dogs and the Circle of Life

Me Basil, and Big Basil

Me Basil, and Big Basil

The days are lengthening. Dawn is later and I’m waking Jaq less (which she’s happy about).

Met Big Basil en route to the park and we chased around together.

Jaq called in at Zebedee’s house (he’s a Flat-coated Retriever), and I did a lot of hiding under the table while Zeb checked me out. He was over-excited and thought we were going out together (as we sometimes do), but this wasn’t the case.

Back home I was given some ham. This doesn’t happen often and I have a sneaking suspicion there was ground up worming tablet involved.

Hanging with my pack: Wilf, Coco and me Basil

Hanging with my pack: Wilf, Coco and me Basil

Later on Jaq spoke to a human who is usually out with a nice old Yorkie. Turns out her dog died at Christmas, aged 15. That’s 76 in human years, a good innings as they say.

Jaq asked the dog’s owner if she was ready for another canine friend, but she said at 65 she felt too old. That’s 13 in dog years and officially a senior.

Word on the street, or rather in the park, is that a German Shepherd killed another dog recently. I need to stick with my pack. Luckily, they were all out today.

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Parks and Poop – a Dog’s View

Me, Basil, at my favourite park

Me, Basil, at my favourite park

Visited my favourite park twice over the weekend. It’s a short drive to get there and as soon as I see all that greenery, and smell the deer, I know where I am and jump and yap until Jaq opens the door and lets me out.

I love the endless variety of smells, and the trails that go off in all directions.

We went uphill and down, around the ponds and back up again and through the woods. I barked at squirrels and parakeets, but not the horses or deer (i’m a more mature chap these days), and met several fellow canines. Bliss.

Back home, Jaq went out in the garden and cleared up the poop.

I like to deposit it down one side in a spaced out fashion. I don’t make it easy for her. You have to give these humans something to do (a little challenge) or else they get bored and that’s not good for them.

Had the park to myself this morning. Where is everybody?

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Zero Recall – the Teenage Dog Years

Murphy and me, Basil

Murphy and me, Basil

I had to wait for my walk this morning. Something was going on in the household. A cake was being baked and Zeddy, one of the younger humans in my pack was given treats.

Jaq said, it’s Zeddy’s birthday and that she’s 16. If I convert that into dog years I think she’s lucky to be around.

Anyhow, Jaq finally took me out to the park. It was a different crowd at this later time of day, but I enjoyed seeing Murphy. We’ve met once before, but he’s a hell of a lot bigger this time. Turns out in dog terms he’s an adolescent and therefore officially full of it.

We hung out for a while before Jaq and I started to head the other way, but Murphy followed and kept on following. Jaq said that’s what I was like as a teenager – zero recall.

However, that all changed once that darn greyhound tried to eat me. I’ve stayed pretty close to Jaq since then.

Back home, those fat pigeons have some cheek strutting by my window. I just saw them off. It’s my territory.

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