Playing games is all very well until they don’t go to plan. In the next newsletter for our Club, our Club trainer has challenged us to send in photos of ourselves tapping our noses into the hand of our humans. It’s a good training exercise and can be used for lots of things. Anyway, Mum boasted that it’s something we can all do. We play tag as a fun game when we are out and as being more interesting than your average recall. When Mum shouts tag, we have to run straight to her and put our nose into her hand. Then she let’s us go off again for a while.
The problem is with only one human, how to take a photo of the event. Firstly, Mum tried with the camera in one hand as I came to touch her other hand. She got a photo of the paving and then one of her shoes. No part of me featured in either attempt. Then she set her camera to video. You wouldn’t think that she could still miss me, but she did.
After that, Mum set up her phone on the garden table and checked it was at the right angle and then set it running as video. All she had to do was to call tag when she was in front of it and I would come and put my nose in her hand. How well do you know me? By now I was quite excited. When she called, I barrelled into Mum, spinning her around so her back was to the camera and almost broke her fingers in the process.
It is fair to say, Mum was not best pleased. She has said her next attempt will be with Aristotle, who is much more laid back than I am. I think that’s a shame. I’m sure we’d have captured it eventually.
Meanwhile squirrel was having fun yesterday. Mum only captured one of the things on film. That was when squirrel decided to stand still part way up a tree with a nut in his mouth. I think he thought if he didn’t move we might not notice him, but that idea failed too. The second would have been brilliant if we could have caught it. We have an ornamental peregrine falcon on the summerhouse, to discourage the pigeons from wrecking the cherry tree. At one point the squirrel sat on the falcon’s back as though he was riding him, like a horse.
The third thing did not please Mum. Ok, she wasn’t really cross. It was a bit like when one of us does something cheeky. He helped himself to an armful of the hanging basket moss, and ran off with it. We presume he has decided it would be good as a nest lining. In much the same was as it being a good lining for the hanging basket!