Wordless Wednesday 31/10

Betws-y-Coed

Betws-y-Coed is a small village in the Conwy valley within the Snowdonia National Park in North Wales. Mum has visited many times, but as Other Mum (or me) had never been, we decided to do make a detour on our way home from Criccieth.

 Betws-y-Coed means "The Prayer House in the Wood" and the village was founded around a monastry in the 6th century.

In the centre of the village is the Pont-y-Pair Falls.

This is also where I met my friend 'Mini Me' while we were enjoying a picnic lunch!

She is a 5 month old whippet; I think she thought I was her Dad.....ahem......

About a mile outside of the village lies Swallow Falls. It is the highest continuous falls in Wales

Not quite Niagara....but very pretty!

Back in the village, Mums were delighted to spot the Iechyd Da Delicatessen - they LOVE shops like this!

It sold everything from Welsh cheese to Turkish tea to Italian ham!

On our way out of the village we drove over the Waterloo Bridge which was built by the engineer Thomas Telford in 1815; the same year that the Battle of Waterloo was fought.

Of course, Mum couldn't resist buying a few items in that lovely Deli.! 

Here we have Dragon's Breath Mustard (blows your socks off!) Welsh Cheddar with Horseradish, Cheddar with chili, Cheshire with pickled onions, Caerphilly with Green Herbs and in the front Welsh Brie. 

Mums say they were absolutely delicious - and I even got to sample one or two!

Please join me for breakfast.........

Hello everyone; I have missed you all this week! Unfortunately my assistant and typist has been a bit under the weather and so I haven't been able to get to my laptop very much.

We haven't got a post prepared for today, but I have persuaded Mum to let me pop along just to say hello, so I thought you might all like to join me for breakfast.... or brunch or dinner depending on where you are in the world!

I am still enjoying a part raw diet, so here is what's on the menu today....

Today we have canned pumpkin, broccoli, apple, carrot, tinned sardines and beef.

Mum whizzed it all up in the processor for me.

Please Mum....we are all waiting!

Come on everyone; tuck in!....nom nom nom.......

Last weekend my Aunty Lou came to stay with us (she's not really my aunty; she's Mum's very best friend, so she counts as one...)  On Monday, Mum took us to Kilnsey Park.... some of you will remember that we went there in the summer and had a lovely time....

After Kilnsey Park we went to a beautiful little village called Kettlewell and had lunch at the Bluebell pub. I particularly liked it as they let dogs in and the landlord gave me a gravy bone!

Mum (who has been terribly vague all week.....) forgot that she had her camera until we were half way home...

We thought these beech trees we beautiful in their autumn colours. 

Whilst we we at Kilnsey Park, Mum couldn't resist buying some of their lovely smoked trout.

So that's dinner sorted then.....Mum, can I have the tails......?!

I wish you all a happy weekend and I hope to be back with you shortly... once I can get my staff sorted. I think I still have some more things to tell you about my holiday....bet you can't wait?!! I might just spare you the castles this time though! See you soon (I hope).

With love,

Deccy xxx

Declan the Chef goes raw!

Mum has been thinking about homemade and raw food for me for sometime now. She likes the idea of both, although for some weird human reason worries a little about giving me raw food. WTF?! I'm a dog Mum. You think Mr Caveman used to nip out and get a tin of Pedigree Chum for his doggy? Sheesh!  Anyway, I digress. Several of our blogging friends who enjoy the delights of raw food will have heard Mum moan that it's really hard for us to get raw meat for pets. It seems it is not hard; Mum simply wasn't looking hard enough. When we were on holiday recently Mums found a supplier and having got a brand name, have been able to source it locally. Again weirdly, Mum feels more confident about feeding me this stuff. Never try and understand a human.....!

We've been able to buy the raw mince in rabbit, beef, tripe, fish and chicken. 

 Mum has been dividing the packs into three and mixing it with a reduced amount of kibble....and I LOVE it! I can also report that my bottom has been behaving beautifully, so no worries on that front!

Now for the homemade bit. Rather fortunately for us, my small but perfectly formed friend Dachshund Nola wrote a post about the benefits of homemade food. Nola has a lot of allergies, so commercial food is pretty much off limits for her. Mum was really inspired by Nola's recipes, so decided to try something similar for me. Mum decided she didn't have the storage space for me to go totally homemade, so again she been mixing it with a reduced amount of kibble. 

For our first attempt Mum used celery, carrots, apple, cabbage and cooked potato.

She grated everything bar the potatoes in the food processor 

......And mixed it all together.

Finally she mixed in one pack of raw pet mince - in this case, rabbit.

Mum divides this into 6 portions and adds it to my kibble. She has made another batch using a mixed bag of squash, broccoli and cauliflower, an apple, celery, carrot and half a tin of chopped pineapple. She added raw beef mince to this. 

At this early stage, Mum can't say what the benefits are, other than I really like it, it isn't costing us anymore and she knows I am getting some fresh vegetables, which can't be a bad thing. She likes the idea that I'm getting some raw meat too. Makes me feel all manly...... Grrrrrrrrr!!!!

Nearly Wordless Wednesday 17/10

If you don't go away I will tell Honktopus to suck your brains out......

*Happy 14th Birthday to my dear departed Uncle Flynn. We know you are watching...........and laughing at us!*

A Lesson in Orography....

.......or not as the case may be.

Apparently orography is the study of mountains. And before you ask; no I have no idea why someone would spend their life studying them either.

On our recent holiday in Wales we stayed on the edge of the Snowdonia National Park. Yes, there is a clue in the name; it is the home of Mount Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales at 3560ft. Already I can hear the laughter of Orologists the world over (do Orologists laugh, I wonder?) because in the grand scheme of things Snowdon is small fry. Even Scotland can top 4000ft with Ben Nevis. Once you cross the pond, Orologists are rolling on the ground with mirth thinking of their own whopping mountains at over 20,000ft. There is no respite in New Zealand who have Mount Cook at 12,316 ft and our mates in  Australia can easily beat 7000ft.

Here is a picture of me (and Mum's legs) looking depressed on a beach - for no reason other than all this writing is getting boring. 

So, perhaps Snowdon is nothing to get really excited about, but when did that ever stop anyone?! Mount Snowdon is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Wales and hundreds of idiots people climb to the summit each year. And that is where I hit upon a rather embarrassing problem. Given how famous Snowdon is, surely one should be able to recognise it instantly? Well, no actually. Mums realised that they didn't have a clue as to which mountain we should be ooohing and ahhing about. So, while we'd like to show you a picture of Snowdon, we are not sure that we can.

Below is a series of photographs of mountains..... one of them may be Snowdon.

We believe this to be our least convincing offering, but a nice enough mountain....

 Don't think it's this one, but at least there are sheep for added interest...

Ah that's better! Here is one of me with some old mountain in the background....

This is our best guess. Do you know why? Mum said it "looked famous". I despair, I really do.....

This may be Snowdon from the other side. (Note the use of technical Orologist language....)

 If you are not as stupid as know more about mountains than my mums, do let me know!

Spot the castle!

When we rented our little cottage in Wales, there were several points that sold it to Mums:

 It was on one level, so no need to worry about me and steep inaccessible stairs.

I can confirm no stairs were climbed in order to reach this bed......

There were ample gardens for Mums and me to sit in.

Yes they seem ample enough.......

Relaxing in the aforementioned ample garden.

And finally, and I quote from the owner's literature, "you can sit in the front gardens and enjoy the views of Harlech and Criccieth castles" This pleased Other Mum immensely... she likes castles. Mum groaned and put her head in her hands.....she's not quite such a fan.

View of Criccieth castle: check!

View of Harlech castle: Blimey you need good eyesight to see that! This picture was taken on our last day- it took Mums all week to identify it!

Should anyone be interested, this is what it looks like close up!

Nearly Wordless Wednesday 10/10

Ooooh! Roast duck and Croquet potatoes.

This is looking promising......

Is all this sitting and staring at my food really necessary Mum?

I always get a better class of breakfast at Ganny's.....nom nom nom!

The Legend of Gelert

Beddgelert is a village in the Snowdonia National Park, North Wales. The name means "Gelert's Grave".

The village centre

Gelert was a hound (probably deer or wolf) belonging to the 13th century Prince Llewelyn.

The Legend is told on Gelerts grave, just outside the village

This is what it says:

"In the 13th century Llewelyn, prince of North Wales, had a palace at Beddgelert. One day he went hunting without Gelert, "The Faithful Hound", who was unaccountably absent.On Llewelyn's return the truant, stained and smeared with blood, joyfully sprang to meet his master. The prince alarmed hastened to find his son, and saw the infant's cot empty, the bedclothes and floor covered with blood.The frantic father plunged his sword into the hound's side, thinking it had killed his heir. The dog's dying yell was answered by a child's cry.Llewelyn searched and discovered his boy unharmed, but near by lay the body of a mighty wolf which Gelert had slain.The prince filled with remorse is said never to have smiled again. He buried Gelert here".

Now I'm  the first to admit that I might not be the best dog to offer advice on child care, but who in their right mind goes out hunting all day and leaves a baby alone with the dog?! Gelert may have been exceptional, but surely not even he could organise feeds and nappy changes... Just as well it was the 13th century or Social Services would be kicking his door down in the rush to move the baby to a place of safety!  And where was Princess Llewelyn while all this was going on? Or had the baby's mother met a sticky end the last time the Prince flew into a rage? Just something to think about........!

I think Gelert & I might have got on.......

Thanksgiving in Canada

I've just been chatting with my good mate Beckett from Home is Where the Hounds Are and he told me that it is Thanksgiving on Monday in Canada! Well, I had no idea! 

So, I'd just like to wish all our friends in Canada a very very happy Thanksgiving weekend (and I'd particularly like to wish Beckett's Mum good luck with the painting..... no turkey until you finish!)

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

The Galloping Field

Yesterday morning, Mum took me for an early morning walk to the Galloping Field.

The Galloping Field was named by Flynn, well, because this is where he used to gallop!

The field is actually a piece of open land adjoined to two rugby pitches (in the background.) Beyond them is a small wood which leads to a golf course. In the very far distance you can see the moors. 

Mum & I have an ambition that one day I will be able to run off lead here too.

Unfortunately, there are several exits that lead to fairly busy roads, so Mum says she's going to have to be a little bit more confident in me, before she'll trust me not to "do a runner" as she puts it!

My dear departed Uncle named these huts "Wabbit City". He used to enter the field with Mum at the top of a very steep slope and then would gallop half way around the field (never across the middle)  at full pelt with the rabbits watching (and laughing at) him!

Wabbit 1: "Oh look here comes Flynn....AGAIN. Bet you a fiver I have the nerve to let him within 20ft before disappearing into my house"

Wabbit 2: "You're on! If you can make him skid into the hut I'll make it a tenner!"

Wabbit 1's house.

Mum has no idea why there are always so many seagulls on the field; we are a good 70 miles from the coast!

I trust you will untie me from this rugby post before the game starts Mum.......Mum....MUM?!!

Mum don't move! There's a really BIG wabbit over there.....!

Any chance we can get on with the walk; I think I've posed enough.....!