Clodagh has been enjoying destroying the garden and spending quality time with Mum. We were thrilled to be reunited with Buster for a few days over the May Bank Holiday. A trip to the seaside is planned and we hope to get plenty of holiday snaps for his album. Buster is such a thoughtful little dog: he gave us two mugs and a set of coasters cleverly designed with his photos. We shall treasure them! Buster, you are a Prince among Glens.
Five months old and we are teething - again! Clodagh has been more mouthcentric than usual, and has industriously set about demolishing the garden. A daily trail of broken flowers and sticks snake their way through the house to Clodagh's bed. I carelessly left my mobile phone within her reach the other day. A fun game of chase ensued, and not for the first time I wished we had a small back yard. By the time I had wrestled the phone from my athletic puppy, she had clocked up a few hundred steps on the step-counter. Rocket dog!
Clodagh and Buster have been having fun in the sun! They both thoroughly enjoyed their first trip to the beach. Neither felt compelled to get their paws wet though. Glens are usually partial to a paddle and love playing in water, but they are fairly ambivalent about swimming in it. Both puppies displayed characteristic bravery when faced with their largest dog to date: a gorgeous young Irish wolfhound called Milo!
A dog-day out
We have received some terrific updates from Team Tara, along with practical teething tips that are equally useful in warmer weather. Glens love a peeled raw carrot, especially from the fridge or freezer. Buster has been thoroughly spoilt by Tina, with delicious frozen paw-shaped concoctions made with dog-friendly yogurt - who knew? There is also no substitute for distracting your chew-monster with chew-toys. All interaction and play is an opportunity for your Glen to learn. Just remember that games of tug-of-war are a no-no until those teeth are fully grown.
So, the puppies are now six months old. Half a year. Wow! Massive thanks again to Team Tara for sharing the Glen love. So many fantastic photos, truth be told, that I've cheekily half-inched a few from Helen and Tina! Buster seems to be his usual, supercool self, despite the heatwave. Iced hooch for your pooch, indeed! What will they think of next? And we love Helen's portrait of Fintan (aka Jeff - King of The Glennie) on his first beach walk.
We hope you're all managing to stay chilled and not remotely hot and bothered under the collar. Glens don't usually mind being warm and we know of some who live in Spain and Portugal quite comfortably. Like many females of this quirky breed, Sky does object to rain and will do anything to avoid getting drizzled on. Possibly not the most effective working dog then...in verdant Ireland. We wondered why they were so rare! Big clue right there.
Sky and Clodagh have both been pretty lethargic in the day and appreciate a cold, wet towel. I've also been freezing a small handful of doggy treats in water for each dog. The ice blocks keep them occupied for a while, but Sky does struggle with the concept of sharing. She prefers the 'what's yours is mine and what's mine is mine' philosophy. Poor Clodagh. She has rapidly discovered that it's a dog-eat-dog-treat world. We've been enjoying our meanderings much later in the evening; and nothing beats the cooling breeze of a beach walk.
Just wanted to share these recent photos of Clodagh the Clodhopper, to celebrate her six month milestone. Taken on the sofa as she sought refuge from the sun...but of course she is not allowed on the furniture...
Clodagh has become fixated with the front door. It delivers random things for her to chew! Not sure why she singled out this particular missive for the terrier treatment. Especially when it contains vouchers for dog food from our local pet store. Talk about biting the hand that feeds...
And spare a thought for Maisie Mouse: She has miraculously survived four years, 100 hot washes and eight Glen of Imaal terrier puppies. Although she did require some minor cosmetic surgery to reattach her nose.
Clodagh has also developed an affinity for real mice. She found a nest in the garden recently, and diligently plucked one baby mouse at a time to show me. She was so pleased with herself. Sometimes, Glens are almost catlike!
We have just enjoyed a dog-day afternoon out socialising in the sun at Eaton Park. It was beyond exciting, as Sky and Clodagh were reunited with Jeff! And we were reunited with Helen and Tim! I realise that I may have prioritised these reunions incorrectly.
We are more convinced than ever that young Jeff is something of a Glen prodigy. He really is bright as a button. He can lie down and roll over when asked - not just because he is bored with standing or wants his tummy rubbed, like our two. Helen also got Jeff to show us The Glennie, which he now performs with a High 5 as a final flourish of brilliance. That's just showing off, Jeff!
Clodagh the Clod eventually got the gist of Sit, Come Here and Go-Get-Ball. Her failure to grasp Give-Me-Your-Paw, or anything even remotely tricksy, is mystifying. It took Sky less than a minute to volunteer her paw when asked for the first time. I am flummoxed by Clodagh's weirdly disarming, cheerfully charming, innate disobedience. There is something of the Basset Hound about her, which is just fine as I have a soft spot for them anyway. It's either that or her mother's comparatively high IQ skipped a puppy. Good job she is infinitely loveable!
Brother and Sister had fun playing together, but Jeff did let himself down with the frequent urge to become, er, unduly intimate with his Mum and Sister. Wrong on so many levels, we know. And definitely a case of ambition outweighing ability, at six months old. Poor Jeff! He is such a boy. He is also absolutely gorgeous and very cuddlesome. A real classic-looking Glen, with that magnificent head and a confident, purposeful waddle. Some dogs may walk tall. But all Glens walk happy.
Paws up to Eaton Park in Norwich for being so dog-friendly. We always appreciate a nice café with a sign saying 'Dogs Welcome'! Paws down for a complete absence of signage to guide the hapless motorist in your general direction. By the time we arrived, tardy and stressed, we were both briefly unable to see the funny side. Mr C endured the ultimate humiliation when, after a tense and fruitless 45-minute quest, he finally hit rock-bottom and stopped to ask a policeman, only to find that the local nick was unmanned.
A few hardened dog-walkers in the Park also had their hearts melted by three gregarious Glens, such is life!