Penblwydd Hapus ...you know who you are

White Feathers

Busy, busy. Yup, said her regal fluffiness. When I became incorporeal, she was very busy then too. Washed all my stuff and put it in the box under the roof. Well none of this is going in a box under the roof. Everything she's found from Liar-Coward-Man - off to the charity shops or the bins or the dump.
Now she's well enough to be really busy, she's making sure it's all gone. Even been up under the roof and found some things to throw away.



After she'd been busy clearing stuff, she went out. Only for a little while, just for some treatments, she said. I slunk off to my bed to have a rest so that I would be able to look after her when she came back. So when she came in, I expected her to be pale and tired with holes in her leg again. And with one of those tight brown wrappers on the leg. Clearly, this was a different kind of treatment. No leg wrapper, no holes, no pale. In fact, all shiny and relaxed. So why did she have to have the other sort of treatment when this makes her look so good?

We went to see Tinker Dog's people for food. Even though I'm scared of Tinker Dog, I like their house because they always give me a treat. All of Tinker Dog's people were there. Even their Litter. They had some grand food and I sat outside the eating room looking Very Thin. Got a treat to take home, so it worked.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

A show. Very nice place with lots of wobbles. I did my best to look very smart for her. We helped with the children. Their parents gave them money and they gave it to us. In exchange, they had to throw hoops over toys, pick little papers out of a bin or hook ducks. If they hooped or hooked or picked the right numbers, they got something to take home, like a fluffy animal. Not a Mossie, though. Sometimes, their parents had no money left at the end. There was a big bouncy thing like a huge bed and some parents just handed over money and put their litters on that. Small humans don't half squeal a lot when they're having fun. I think that they collected lots of money to make small humans safe.

Then home, and gardening, and the Man with the Cat came for food.

Tinker Dog's woman sent MBNAD woman some words on the wall-string-writing-box that made her have a wet nose and eyes. "You are worth a great deal more to those who know you than to allow yourself to be treated that way." Seconded by Mossie. Thirded by Bella.


"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Marke but this Flea

Once she got rid of the fleas, she had us being busy. People come for food. Dunno what it is about her, but friends and food go together.

First it was the Man-with-the-Cat, then there's the Hello-Mister-Woman. She always give me a hard look like she can suss me out but then fusses over me for ages, so I guess she's a mug too. She came to give MBNAD woman a big hug the other day which was good since I needed a break.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

I did lots of hugging too, said HRH. Yes, she did ... and I'm glad she decided to stay a bit longer before going off to be young again. MBNAD woman needs both of us at the moment.

She was much better on the weekend so we were busy out and about in the sunshine. I sit patiently everytime she puts the stop-Mossie-flying-away contraption on but it's an awful palaver.

More people, special people who usually come with Tinker Dog but since they were round for dinner Tinker Dog stayed home with their Litter. If truth be told, I'm a bit scared of Tinker Dog on account of her size. Hmmmm, says the Princess, you were scared of Bolshie and that can't be on account of size. Alright, I'm just a wobble. But I'm not a liar and I'm not a coward. Just a wobble, her wobble.

Liar-coward-man complained that I left a little damp nose patch and some hair on his trousers. If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have peed on him. One of those long, well-filled bladder pees. Not the kind of pee that marks where I've been. More the sort that reminds you where I don't want you to be. Me too, me too, exclaims the Princess. Yes, but my aim is better.




"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Then we were off to the god-forsaken place in the Fens to see the Little Dark One. Hot weather so we sat by the river and the Little Dark One hugged her a lot. In fact we sat by a pub by the river and lots of people came to talk to me so I got well chatted up. Only cos they couldn't see me, grumbles the Princess. No-one can see you, I remind her. We just know that you're there.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

The Men of Sweyn's Eye and their Women

So last week she was mainly home again with the Various Vines. This time it was something RUTHLESS done to them and although she was very tired, she wasn't so poorly as the last time. More friends to look after her and make her smile. "And US!" shrieks the small piece of Royalty. Yes, and US. We're always there. Even when we can't make it better, we're always there. And will always be true. And will always be brave. And will love her forever.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Since the RUTHLESS treatment wasn't as bad as the EVIL stuff, she was quite perky at the end of the week and so we went There. There was so good. We said hello to the Cat with No Teeth and went out with the Lady next door. I did my very best to comfort her too. With the sun shining, we went out with the top of the car off. I know the signs now: eeeeeeeoooouw ping. And it's gone. Yes, I have to wear a silly contraption just in case I fly away, but it's quite nice letting all the scents rush past my nose. We go somewhere with lots of shops selling funny stuff. Looks like someone has chucked most of it out once. Very TQ9, says the Princess.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Visitors: a big van load of them. People, bags, boxes, wine, beer, cake ... Grand. Dunno who they are but this is good. The Men are nice but I turn the Irish charm on the women and it works a treat. Woman-who-likes-Cats-really calls me Sweetie. Woman-who-really-wants-a-Dog is happy to get up and walk with me before they get breakfast. We go to the Tanners where I'm allowed and then she makes them Dead Deer Dinner. They must be special if they get Dead Deer Dinner.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Time to turn There to Here again.

More Various Vines. This time it's Flea-bite-omies. Didn't know she had fleas. She don't scratch. Anyway, these fleas mean that she has to have more treatment so I guess they must have bitten her legs... All she does for me is some stuff that she puts on the back of my neck. I don't much like that but it's a lot better than her treatment.

When she comes back, her leg is all bandaged up but it starts leaking. You know, the red stuff that belongs inside. This is not good but she seems reconciled to it and says that it will ALL BE FOR THE BEST. Better if she'd never got the things in the first place if you ask me.

On the other hand, she's not allowed to drive with all this stuff going on so we have to stay home and rest. Resting is something I know a lot about. In fact, since I retired, I'm now a Grand Master.



We sit in the sun and enjoy practising resting. When we're tired of that, it's

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Though lovers be lost love shall not

My poor old MBNAD woman has been having a tough time. More sad stuff and Various Vines.

And me ... the secret is out about Mossie and Thunder and Lightening. Very, very frightening. MBNAD woman off to work and, just like normal, my DB comes to take me out for my middle of the day walk. We go with company, which I like even if some of them are a bit boisterous. My DB always lets me sit in the front of the van because I'm so well-mannered. Then it started. Big splishy raindrops that became hard sharp rain and then the huge roll and crack . Hiding behind my DB's leg seemed the best idea. The others didn't seem to notice. I leaned even harder on my DB's leg and she got the idea that going back to the van was the best thing. So we went home, all wet. And when we got there, my MBNAD woman was home too. Wonderful. So I had a little shake and she got an old not-very-fluffy towel and rubbed me dry. Grand. I thought that we might have an afternoon snoozing but she had other ideas and was upstairs washing (she is always getting herself clean) and then down again quickly, but not in dog-walkers. Bother.
Off she goes and a couple of hours later someone brings her back and she's broken! Leg all bandaged and wobbly. Apparently, it's to do with the Various Vines. She's had something EVIL done to them. All pink and happy when she went out and then came back broken. Pale too. I try resting my head on her in my best new man style and she smiles at me but it's a broken smile. I don't like to see her like this and can see that I'm going to have to do a lot of this new man stuff if she's going to get better.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Next day she was just as broken but still takes me out for my walks and we do lots of ball throwing. The Man with the Cat comes and they talk for a long time while she rests her leg a lot but this doesn't seem to be getting better. But excellent news: the Tall One arrived to look after her. I was beginning to worry that it was all going to be down to me. I'd have got on the bed to give her a hug, announces the Princess. I was always good at that. Food comes in a van. I help unloading.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

More broken and pale the next day. Mainly lying down with the Tall One looking after her. He's good and makes her smile a lot. Princess fussing all the time, worrying that MBNAD woman can't feel her love. Not only can she still feel her love, she has found a small, soft, cafe-au-lait tuft of Princess hair which makes her cry.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

The Tall One does lots things like bed-making and cooking to look after her.



"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella".

Mossie's blog is about to become readable by invitation only

The Man in the Wind and the West Moon

She's been away for a couple of days leaving me with the Little Dark One at the house where the Man and the Cat live. I quite like it there and he has a wonderful compost heap where I have found lots of small treats.
Last night, she collected me and was very tired and a bit grumpy. She's been somewhere called Terminal Five and she had Views on the subject. I'd expected us to be off to There since she had packed the bags and everything but we went to bed instead. But this morning, she was out of bed with lots of bounce and, while I was still yawning, she packed up the car and we were off. Whooosh!

"Wales, Mossie, Powys, Home". Whoosh. We whoooshed so fast that There had turned into Here by the time had her her bowl of morning sick.

Said hello to the Nice Lady who lives next door and the Dog with Leanings before we went out for my morning walk. And then we were busy going to the Market where we said hello to Eddie Stickmaker. She bought some plants for the garden but we sat down all afternoon because it rained. I sat on my cushions and watched her through slitted eyes just in case she thought of escaping.

This evening just as she started cooking, the Lady from next door came round. She had wet eyes and nose. Dog with Leanings. Gone. I hugged her really hard and my MBNAD woman gave her a hug too. They drank some red stuff and remembered him.

For once, the Princess didn't have some daft trollop remark. He was my friend and I'll miss him, even if he did sniff my ears. I'm not always a daft trollop, she says, I'm good at making people happy so I'll look after him. Being old got to be very hard and he'll like being young again.

Smokey - 1993 to 2008. A life well lived.

Stars at elbow and foot

My poor old MBNAD woman has been having a sad time and she had this thing called flue. You couldn’t actually see the chimney but it made her wheeze an awful lot so I guess it was there. Perhaps she hawked it up when she was having one of those big cough and spit things. Anyway, the chimney’s gone.

At the same time as she was in the chimney-way, she was very, very sad and I have tried to make her better by leaning on her leg. The Princess suggested that I try one of those full-on snogs that she used to do but I don’t think I could get away with that.

We haven’t been able to be There while she had the chimney and sad stuff but I can see that she’s filling up the bag to go There so perhaps we’ll be off soon. I know that once we get there, she’ll be able to be happier.





We've had snow while she had the chimney. I like snow, chortles the Princess. Snow angels. Always made snow angels. Of course, there's a big royal tradition of snow activities. She does talk some pretentious claptrap. Used to go orrff piste. Yup well, I went off-piste and made some yellow snow.















The Little Dark One has been around a lot. Sometimes she’s with the Man with the Cat and sometimes with us. When she stays with the Man with the Cat, she comes to see me instead of my DB. Then off we go for a walk or even ball throwing and then I go to the Man with the Cat’s house where the Cat swears at me.


She's working on something called a Dizzy Station. When she’s busy with it, she sits in front of her wall-string-word-box with heaps of books and lots of cups of tea. Then she mumbles a lot of cat words, then she writes words, reads a bit and mumbles more cat words. Then the cat comes in and sits on the letter buttons on the wall-string-word-box. I lean against her leg to show I’m being supportive. Something I’ve noticed, bitches like you being “supportive”. Now I’m a new man, or at least the bits of the old man have gone, I notice this sort of thing. But not enough to get chatted up by the Dog with Leanings.

The Man with the Cat has had a very sad week. Old bloke, his Sire, Grandsire to the Litter, gone. I know, says the Princess, he’s become like me now. Yes, quite. And they were all sad when it happened to you so it’s made them all very sad. I think that they put him in a garden somewhere. The Litter were both here. The Tall One stopped looking for Hot Pixies all last week and came to stay. They kept going off to do things looking after the Man with the Cat’s Dam.


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

MBNAD woman doesn’t have a Sire or a Dam but I guess she must have done once. Nope, says HRH, she was crocheted. She always said so. What a lot of right royal nonsense she talks. Small humans are made in the same way as puppies, and it ain’t got anything to do with handicrafts.