I, like many others, have been following Isabella Bennett's spellbinding photos of her very first litter of Welsh Terriers. Olia, the mum, came from France, as a puppy herself, to join the Bennett household, which was currently run by Welsh terrier Chuck. You've already read her write up about living with Welsh terriers, which was published by Our Dogs, so you can already see that Isabella is pretty savvy when it comes to our breed.
She has been following a puppy training programme called Puppy Culture: "Demand to Win" They all know their names already and they choose to sleep in their own space (see photo further down) Isabella says she is really pleased with them. It must come from their dad because Olia isn't that well behaved!!!
This should put a big smile on all of your faces!
Isabella trains the little ones to sleep in their own bed!!! Outstanding.
Have a very happy life little ones!
13th October 2020
Mummy has been a bit down recently, so I thought it's a Welsh terrier's duty to cheer her up isn't it?
Yesterday daddy was doing some gardening and I always like to think I'm helping him out. My main job is to keep an eye out for those pesky Herons. So there I was doing my best to guard the Koi ponds. I've got quite good at charging along the wall and decking. But this time I thought I'd check the ponds out from a different angle, which involved getting in, around and under various conifers and plants.
The fish were swimming wildly around the ponds and for one mad moment, I thought I'd join them! Well there was a big splash and I went completely under!. Daddy went running in to tell mummy and grabbed his large fishing net, because he just couldn't get to me. But while he was doing that, I managed to swim to one end and scramble out all by myself.
I heard mummy calling me so I ran to her (which makes a change, unless there's a titbit involved) whereupon she wrapped me in a large, warm towel. I think she was laughing....I can't be sure. But I hope I livened up her day. It's been years since I last fell in the pond, I'm hoping that this time is the last!!!
Daisy's antics - well, you can't stay angry with them for long! It reminded me of when we visited our cousin's house in the New Forest. Katie and Archie were chasing each other round the garden and didn't realise that the round green bit was a pond covered in weed. Both emerged green terriers and for some reason our cousin wasn't amused. By the way, they both hated water.
17th October 2020
Sylvia Turner sent this in from Owen:
Dear Mrs Meecham,
I’ve had a terrible week, not so much lock down as locked under…
I thought I saw a piece of my food under a kitchen cupboard so, I was in like a shot. Mum saw me go and said nothing.
As luck would have it, it was only a rather ancient peanut.
Whilst it was easy to get in, using a modified breast stroke, coming out was not at all simple. I turned round alright, got my head out, exchanged a look with mother, but couldn’t get any further.
Mother looked worried, got on the floor with me, wiped the cobwebs off my face (that’s her own fault, she should clean under cupboards more often).
She made an allusion to a Miss Haversham which I didn’t recognise.
She tried to pull me out but no, I was stuck. She went on about Pooh stuck in Rabbits hole and that I might have to stay under the cupboard till I lost some weight - now that was deeply alarming. She pushed my back legs back - nothing. Then she pushed front legs back, grabbed my collar and pulled. Out I came like a champagne cork. It was very undignified, I stomped off to rest quietly.
AND I am 8 years old and I’ve recently been accused in a paternity case. Mother calls the saucy girl and myself and the 4 little rats which have appeared - and with whom mother is entranced - the “Unholy family”
Congratulations Owen! And of course your partner in crime. Lovely puppies!!!!
Doesn't she look happy?
AND then out for a walk in Ludlow with Ma and Granny we heard a terrible barking, Ma said it was a terrier - on the way home, same place, terrible barking, Ma, driven to see what it was peered over the gate and stepped back in shock. “It” was another Welsh terrier, another whole male, the enemy, and living very near my granny. And with the foolish name of Basil - well better to be Fawlty, than to be Boris.
We had a good bark up. But I shall have to watch out in future and make my presence more clear.
The end of a perfect day!