Woof Woofington

A model agency for cats? You cannot be serious!

Well, ok, I am biased; I don't like cats. Well, what I mean is that I tolerate them but the latest news is too much. http://www.itv.com/news/entertainment_b2bc760755dfaeb3a4528ac7f59b4e66.html

Pet London has been set up by Melody Lewis because "I realised that a lot of people want animals for adverts, on television and they want to be able to see them on the internet and just book them quickly."

So, thanks to Melody, we can expect to see more cats about town! If, however, they take on dogs, I am going to chance my luck as a canine model!

Wish me luck!

Woof Woof

The Lion King Is Alive and Well in Ealing

According to news reports today, someone had been keeping a lion - yes, a real live lion, in a first floor flat in Ealing. Of course, I can believe it because earlier this year some bloke in South London had his own mini zoo in the back garden! Rescue organisation Big Cats in Britain has used a combination of clever detective work and legal loopholes to find out just who is keeping exotic pets here on our shores.

And here are how the big "pet" map is looking:

12 lions,

14 tigers,

50 leopards,

16 wild cats,

2,000 ostriches and

nearly 500 monkeys.

300 American bison and

6,000 wild boars are also kept privately while more than250 poisonous snakes and 50 members of the crocodile family have also taken private owners' fancy.

Forget safaris; all you need to do is organise yourself a private tour of the biggest and best here in dear old Blighty. Of course, I think it is sheer madness but what do I know?

Woof Woof

Home Alone

The Mistress works from home most of the time and if she goes out, she usually takes me with her. From time to time, she goes to a place where dogs are strictly off limits and that's when she calls in the dog sitter.

I like my dog sitter; she lives across the road and has two dogs of her own. It means she can pop across and check I am ok and not causing any damage to the house whilst searching for snacks. (Yes, it's a reflex action - the Mistress leaves and I raid the bin, even if it is out of reach....)

So, today the Mistress gave me an extra long walk (out of guilt for leaving me) before setting off at lunchtime. I do the whole "don't leave me routine" just to get extra treats. It works every time.

Today, however, nobody came. For ages. No dog sitter. Nothing. No one. Nada. The only thing for company was the TV. And whilst I like Emmerdale, I haven't worked out how to use the remote to change the channel.

Many hours later the Mistress and her other half came home. And then she realised the dog sitter had never turned up. She was beside herself!

Now she has a problem; the dog sitter has proved to be untrustworthy (we NEVER had problems like that in Central London!) but it could be a one off. Something could have happened to her. We just don't know since she didn't answer her phone.....

So, does the Mistress find me a new sitter or stick with the unreliable one and hope for the best?

Fortunately, I don't think I will be scarred for life but I am expecting a big present this weekend as an apology for being left home alone for so long.

At least it wasn't as bad as the Mistress's Mother's dog sitter. Oh no. Now that really was a tale of woe. MM came to stay with us - she lives in the middle of nowhere - but left her own dogs at home. With the sitter. She was away for several days. Three days after she left, her very concerned next-door neighbour telephoned to say the dogs were barking and what should she do? Catastrophe! It transpired that the dog sitter, who had been coming for four years, had left a day early so the hapless hounds were shut up for 24 hours. Imagine!

Of course, those two dogs got serious presents as a reward and the dog sitter got fired.

So is it one strike and you're out? It's too early to say.

Woof Woof

NIMBY? Not unless you have a tail and spots...

What do you think of when you hear the word NIMBY? Uptight English folk – in the suburbs or beyond – resenting the arrival of gypsies (sorry, travellers), foreigners (genuine asylum seekers, possible criminals let out for good behaviour), care in the community cases? In other words, anyone who isn’t “one of us”.

No-one living in London can comprehend the concept of nimby-ism (or is it nimby-ness?); we all rub along, rich or poor, human or animal, English, British, European, African, South American, Australian and so on...and so on.

Our next-door neighbours on one side are Sudanese; on the other, Irish. And we get along just fine, thank you!

Of course, tensions boil over in the capital but, apart from angry residents opposing late closing hours for trendy pubs (like The Pineapple in Kentish Town) or dodgy planning regs (Stella McCartney’s outdoor shower), we simply get on with it.

Apart, that is, from some poor (as in unfortunate because they are far from cash-starved!) people in Peckham, who could be described as NIMBYS. One of their neighbours has something unwelcome in his garden but I think , for once, their protests are totally justified. Local council chiefs said his garden ‘lodgers’ had to go but local magistrates have overruled the council and said the residents will just have to put up and shut up.

And who or what is in this man’s garden in a quiet residential street? Why none other than leopards – yes, you read that right – cloud leopards kept in 12ft high cages! Just imagine looking out of your bedroom on a balmy summer’s night, wondering whether the leopards would be able to jump in and say hello.

Or what if you wanted to have a barbecue? Would that be total torment for these poor creatures who clearly don’t get a good walk from one end of the year to another!

And who is this neighbour from hell? (Well, I’m sure that’s what they must have branded him by now...) According to the Evening Standard, Todd Dalton is an “internet entrepreneur” who has made his money from “tinned crocodile curry, snake vodka and Viagra alternatives made from hornets”. OK then. So he is wild animal sybarite perhaps? He says he is committed to conservation but I reckon he’s breeding these leopards for some new gourmet venture!

Mr Dalton is forthright in his own defence:

“These animals are not pets. It is not like you could buy them. I am registered with a European breeding programme and have permission to look after them.”

So that’s ok then. Forget safaris in Africa – home of the big cats – it seems you can get to see some fierce felines in Peckham. Who’d have thought it?!

Woof Woof

Who is Britain's Favourite TV Pet?

Well, for all you dog lovers out there, it won't come as any surprise that four out of the top five of Britain's favourite TV pets are...dogs! Which is as it should be, to be honest! Cats - supposedly the UK's number one pet of choice - don't get a look in and even then it's a stuffed one who comes in at number six on this list! (Only teasing, even I know the power of Bagpuss....)

Anyway, Lassie romps home to the top spot, beating EastEnders' Wellard and seventies superstar, Shep from the children's programme Blue Peter. In fact, Blue Peter does well because Peter Purves' dog, Petra, comes in at number four and Golden Retriever, Goldie is number 10. Did you know that the first Petra met an unfortunate end and was replaced by an identical dog?

So, the full line up looks like this:

1 Lassie, 2 Wellard, 3 Shep, 4 Petra, 5 Skippy, 6 Bagpuss, 7 Garfield, 8 Bouncer, 9 Scooby Doo, 10 Goldie.

I'm glad Scooby Doo is on the list; what's not to love about Scooby? He definitely would have been the Mistress's number one choice (apart from me, obviously) but then I'm not on TV.

Woof Woof

Crufts 2006

It’s Crufts but not as we know it. Anyone watching last Sunday’s programme with Ben Fogle and his two gorgeous Labradors will have been captivated by one item alone – the ‘Friends for Life’ award.

This doesn’t focus on the preening and pampering of the show dog; au contraire! This is about how real dogs make a real difference in real people’s lives. And what a difference!

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when we all sat down to watch Crufts, the Preview on BBC 2. This award used to be known as ‘Hero Dogs’ and was won last year by the fabulous sniffer dog, Buster with his handler, Sergeant Danny Morgan from the Royal Army Veterinary Corps.

This year’s contenders are all worthy of winning, to be honest. They are:

Bertie – a Yorkshire Terrier and already a Hearing Dog for the Deaf (http://www.hearing-dogs.co.uk) managed to save another woman’s life while his owner was in hospital. (My vet is a big supporter of this charity so I feel I must give it a special mention!) To vote for Bertie, please telephone 09015 22 52 03 or text Bertie 83199.

Candy – a terrier-cross showed courage and bravery, having been missing for many months (but her owners never gave up hope). Don’t forget the moral of Candy’s tale, always ensure your pet is microchipped – that’s what saved Candy! To vote for Candy, please telephone 09015 22 52 02 or text Candy 83199.

Holly – a German Shorthaired Pointer/Labrador-cross helped her owner overcome agrophobia and works as a Pets as Therapy Dog (http://www.petsastherapy.org/). To vote for Holly, please telephone 09015 22 52 04 or text Holly 83199.

Poppy Louise – a Yorkshire Terrier – saved her owner’s life after alerting her to a gas leak in their home. To vote for Poppy Louise, please telephone 09015 22 52 05 or text Poppy Louise 83199.

Shadow – a Springer/Golden/Collie cross who was rescued from the streets by the Dogs Trust (www.dogstrust.org.uk). Shadow repaid his new owner’s kindness by supporting her because she suffers from Aspergers Syndrome, a form of autism. Shadow has changed her life. To vote for Shadow, please telephone 09015 22 52 01 or text Shadow 83199.

And finally, Yogi – Chocolate Labrador – a Dog for the Disabled but as part of their children’s programme. (www.dogsforthedisabled.org/) Yogi’s owner, 12 year old Daniel, suffers from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and this is what he said: “Yogi changed my thoughts about the world completely.” To vote for Yogi, please telephone 09015 22 52 06 or text Yogi 83199.

The Mistress is totally biased – she is rooting for Yogi. I think she thinks we look alike, Yogi and me. He’s obviously much better behaved, of course.

Even if you don’t normally watch dogs on TV, never mind Crufts, I can guarantee next Sunday’s programme – the final – will be worth an hour of your time. Apparently, you can vote interactively for these dogs so if you’ve got that sort of technical set up, go for it. If not, stick to the phone or text. Either way - vote for Yogi! Or whichever dog you think deserves the award.

And if not, just sit back and enjoy. You’ll really see for yourselves the wonderful world of dogs.

Woof Woof

And They Call It Puppy Love?

I am currently residing in the countryside with the Mistress, the Mistress’s mother (she who must definitely be obeyed) and the Mistress’s Mother’s Menagerie of two dogs and two cats.

That makes us, at present, a five-pet household. Which is fine in the country. But not fine if you live in Salt Lake City. Apparently.

I have never been to Salt Lake City nor am I ever likely to go so I don’t really know how urban it really is. But I hear it’s where Donny “Puppy Love” Osmond and his siblings come from so I’m guessing it’s… well, tame might be the best word. Or…not very urban. And don’t Americans have huge gardens and lots of open space?

Whatever it’s like, the City has a strict rule – no more than two dogs and two cats per household – which some animal lovers are trying to get overturned.

It’s a hard one to call, to be honest. The Mistress lives in a city (she used to think no dog should live a metropolitan environment but that’s a whole other story!) and she has just me. I am more than enough! Her other half wants a cat but she has said, quite rightly, no way, José!

The Mistress’s best friend believes that dogs should have another furry friend in the house – for companionship. There’s probably a lot of truth in that although, not for me. I like being the centre of the Mistress’s universe!

What do you think? How many is too many? Now don’t all write back at once….

Woof Woof

Love Me, Love My Dog

So Joss Stone has been voted Best Celebrity Dog Owner in the US by none other than readers of The New York Dog (www.thenydog.com ). And why is this?

Well, for several reasons but not least for her dogs Dusty (as in Springfield) based in the US so that the poodle can tour with Joss and Missy (as in Elliot) in Devon, England for when Joss is back home.

The Mail on Sunday ran a small piece about Joss’s new award and seemed surprised that the singer would be happy to pose under the banner The New York Dog. But of course, there’s no double entendre here; Joss is a stunning and talented young singer who has her heart in the right place. Not only does she say no to boyfriends who don’t like dogs, she has also helped many pets that were stranded by Hurricane Katrina.

It’s a double whammy of dog love. Joss, I have just one message for you: woof! In fact….

Woof Woof

While the cat's away...

As if saving a stranded American isn't enough drama for one week, the Mistress went into hospital yesterday for an operation.

We (the Mistress' other half and I) walked her to the hospital's entrance and left her there. She looked terrified! All this meant I had to spend the whole day with HIM!

As it happened, the surgery was routine rather than emergency and she came home last night. I made sure that I let her know just how much I had missed her. Strangely, she wasn't happy when I tried to jump up to say hello! Eventually, she made it upstairs and into bed - it took SO long - and I lay next to her, just to prove how loyal I am.

Her other half then went out to buy all the things he had forgotten and the Mistress suggested that he took me as well. I think she was worried that he hadn't given me enough exercise! He muttered something about needing some peace and quiet and said it would be quicker and easier if he went alone. How I laughed!

As soon as he closed the front door, I leapt off the Mistress' bed and went downstairs into the kitchen. I always do this when left alone. I go on a food raid. The Mistress - who was going nowhere fast - could hear things clattering but she was powerless to stop me. She then started phoning and texting her other half to come home but he reassured her that he had left absolutely nothing out for me to eat. I think he thought she was being melodramatic!

As it happens, I wanted to demonstrate my love for the Mistress and wish her a speedy recovery. If he could try to win her over with flowers, I needed to do something special. So I did. I emptied the bin all over the kitchen floor to create one of my infamous rubbish collages. Forget Tracy Emin and Damian Hirst; I'm a real artist. I think the Mistress was pleased because she shouted out my name when HE showed her a photo of what I'd done.

Woof Woof

Lost in London? Who do you call?

What would you do if you found a lost dog in London? Who would you call? Where would you go?

The Mistress found herself in this position at the weekend. No, not because I disappeared – I only run off if there’s food involved – but because she and a friend found a dog running free on Bayswater Road.

Those of you who know this particular street, you’ll know what a lucky escape this dog had. It’s one of London’s busiest roads and drivers and cyclists don’t stop for anyone or anything, even at the lights.

The Mistress and friend managed to catch the dog and check his tags. This very handsome chocolate-coloured chap had come all the way from Kentucky, USA. And here he was, jaywalking, in central London!

The Mistress could see that this was a much loved dog. You don’t ship your pet over unless it’s the real deal. He had American tags and his London address but no mobile to call. Even the Mistress, who prides herself on knowing about dogs in London was tested. Several dog owners stopped to help with suggestions about what to do next, including some helpful Americans who tried to call the US with their cell phone! Then we all walked back into the park, to see if we could see anyone looking frantic – to no avail. The Mistress decided to get us home so that she and her friend could start making some calls.

They called the Royal Parks Police (we’d been in Kensington Gardens) but just got an answer machine. They then called the Metropolitan Police who gave them a different number and they got through to the British Transport Police - who act as call handlers for the Royal Parks lot. Eventually, they got through to the nearest police station who said…we can’t do anything! One suggested trying to find a police station with a dog kennel.

And forget the dog warden; Westminster has one for the whole borough, available only on weekdays.

But the Mistress’ friend is an organised kinda gal and has an cab account. She suggested that the Mistress go round to the address on the dog’s tag and even if there was no-one home, she could leave a note with all her details.

So that’s what she did - and the owners weren’t there. Because they were out, in London, sick with worry, trying to find their dog. But a neighbour was home and he offered to look after the dog until the owners returned.

The Mistress worried endlessly about whether she had done the right thing. The dog-owning cab driver reassured her that she had. And then we all waited. The Mistress’ other half had returned by then; why is he never around when there’s a dog crisis?

Several hours later, the dog’s owners called. Boy were they relieved! The Mistress knew exactly how they must have been feeling. And the owners confirmed everything the Mistress suspected – that dog was a much-loved member of the family. In fact, had he not been able to come with them, his American owners would have given the UK a wide berth.

They offered a reward but, quite rightly, the Mistress turned it down. It was enough that dog and owners had been reunited. Losing your best friend is something nobody wants to think about!

So what’s the upshot of this Sunday morning drama? First, do you know what to do if you lose your dog? (If you don’t, then find out!). But second, what do you do if you find a dog? Who do you call? The Mistress is going to find out because even she didn’t know. If the dog hadn’t got a London address on his tag, I’d still be sharing my space with him. Not good! The Mistress now knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that I won’t share her with anyone!

In the meantime, make sure that your dog is chipped (although that wouldn’t have helped this weekend) and that your mobile (cell) phone is engraved on your dog’s tag.

At least this story has a happy ending; a lost American in London found a guardian angel. His owners said so, so it must be true! Of course, I am sure they meant ME, really….

Woof Woof