THE HECTOR CHRONICLES

From the diary of a Black Labrador

August 28th

A dog, as we all know, is for life, not just for an August Bank Holiday Monday when no county cricket is being played. Even so, finding myself with a Monday without gainful employment I took the opportunity afforded me to pick up our new puppy.

Here are some things you need to know about Hector.

1. The son of King Priam and Queen Hecuba, he was, apparently, the least annoying of all Greek heroes and the greatest of all the Trojan warriors. He was eventually killed by Achilles. In Greek mythology he was famous for wearing a particular sturdy helmet, so he shouldn’t be fazed by any short pitched bowling should Somerset, or any other team significantly depleted by The Hundred, ever come calling.

2. His middle name is ‘Watching the gathering crowds’ – a reference to Debden Jubilee, the erstwhile news reporter from ‘On The Hour’, that wonderful radio comedy of the early 1990s. Though the moniker is, perhaps, a bit of a mouthful, it is still considerably shorter than that of our last dog, Barney, whose middle name was ‘Don’t drive that Rhino up a tree, it’s fallen death will shame your people’. Chris Morris, Steve Coogan and Armando Iannucci have a lot to answer for!

3. He’s the third dog that we’ve owned since getting married, and he thus fulfils the promise strangely omitted from our marriage vows that stated that we would have a dog for every child that was born to us. Our son, the youngest of our three children is now 25, so it’s taken a bit of time to make good on that particular pledge!

4. 14 months on from when we said ‘a farewell to Barns’, Hector has very big paws to fill – even so, as the newest member of our family, we think he’ll be every bit as lovely.

August 29th

So far Hector has settled in extremely well. True he needs to be reminded not to help when it comes to picking the flowers in the garden, and does, when excited, have the occasional accident – but hey isn’t that true for all of us as we get a little older!

He has also been the much needed incentive to kickstart the decluttering of our home given how adept he is at commandeering sundry items that we’ve left lying on the floor – items that he finds strangely more effective than the toys we’ve specifically bought him, at some considerable expense, to cope with his teething issues.

For all that though he’s a happy, playful soul who is great company and a joy to have around.

August 30th

I shall enjoy taking him to watch Somerset play. Sadly he won’t be fully vaccinated in time for their final game of the season against Kent next month – but, having already mastered the rudiments of the game, at least he’ll be able to watch the match via the livestream on YouTube!

August 31st

Strange things have been taking place in the town where I live. Crime has plummeted this past week with reports coming in that a caped vigilante has been seen patrolling the mean streets of Wellington throughout the hours of darkness. Furthermore, contrary to our expectations, our sleep has NOT been disturbed by the sound of a puppy crying because he has been left alone in the kitchen overnight. It’s like he’s not even there.

Coincidence? I think not.

By day, the mild mannered Hector, by night… Batdog™ !

September 2nd

The problem with black Labradors is that they don’t show up terribly well in the dark. That’s why we’ve supplied Hector with these rather natty occular accoutrements. Not only can we now see him at reduced lighting levels but he’s also in with a chance of winning ‘The dog with the most appealing eyes’.

September 3rd

And then, looking down at the sinister creature that she had once again been forced to drag from the very much out of bounds settee, Little Red Riding Hood said:

‘Oh what wild staring eyes you have Hector!’

‘All the better to strike fear into the hearts of those upon whom I fix my gaze, my dear’

‘Oh what inky black fur you have Hector!

‘All the better for lurking in the shadows, my nefarious deeds to pursue unnoticed, my dear’

‘And oh what tiny sharp teeth you have Hector!’

‘All the better to rip the flesh from your invitingly exposed upper limbs, my dear’.

Little Red Riding Hood paused a moment to reappraise her feelings on the issue of canine couch convention and then, having plumped up the two soft cushions of the aforementioned three seated sofa, proceeded to invite the hound to make himself comfortable.

And that, she knew, as she curled up in the long since abandoned dog basket in the corner of the room, was the beginning of…

THE END.

September 4th

He said he wouldn’t steal a piece of fake coal from the fireplace.

He lied!

September 17th

Three o’clock in the morning and it looks like it’s going to be another sleepless night – so some advice please…

I have recently taken on a new patient whose behaviour is proving something of a problem.

The underlying issue is simply one of nocturia but it is the impact that this is having on the rest of his family that is the principle cause for concern.

Though far from being an elderly patient, the individual in question is insisting on drawing attention to his nocturnal need to micturate by waking the whole household in the wee small hours – pun absolutely intended – and then insisting he be accompanied outside, this being his preferred place for answering his seemingly pressing call of nature. Furthermore, if ignored, he has taken to urinating in the corner of his bedroom and refusing to clear up after him when daylight eventually comes.

So my question is: should I

a) insist that the members of his family put up with disturbed sleep and the associated daytime somnolence until such time as the patient sees the error of his ways and starts acting more responsibly,

b) ask the district nursing team to catheterise the individual and live with the risk of the patient using his bare teeth to shred the urethral appliance to pieces in a manner similar to the technique he has employed with other plasticised items in recent weeks,

c) refer to the CMHT with a view to them employing a cognitive-behavioural approach in which, given his predilection for chicken flavoured comestibles, some form of poultry based reward is offered him when the shenanigans described above are absent,

or

d) attempt to overcome the patient’s refusal to swallow tablets and covertly administer an alpha blocker by secreting it in his evening meal. If so, does anyone know where I can find a dosage regime for the use of tamsulosin in juvenile delinquents of this type?

September 20th

What with work and life getting in the way, I’ve not seen much county championship cricket this season so I was looking forward to spending my day off watching Somerset v Kent.

But with the weather forecast for Taunton being what it was I decided instead to stay at home and spend the time explaining to Hector the intricacies of how you can be out LBW? After all, he seemed keen to learn, not least because he’d be vulnerable to a ball pitching in the ‘ruff’!

Furthermore, given that he still lacks full understanding of the command ‘Wait’, I suspect he may be liable to getting himself run out.

Even more concerning though is his long tail – something else which could one day also prove a problem!

September 22nd

Today I told Hector of Tom Lammonby’s century yesterday for Somerset. Given his response it seems likely he’ll be asking I buy him club membership next year.

But he is a little apprehensive about the current prospects for play…

September 24th

Last night we watched ‘A Quiet Place 2’. For those unfamiliar with the film’s premise it involves ferocious alien creatures who cannot see you but are liable to rip you to shreds if they hear you.

As I tiptoed silently across the landing last night I reflected on how life sometimes mirrors art!

Yes, Hector does still has those very sharp puppy teeth!

September 27th

Still, for the time being at least, a frontline healthcare worker, today I had my Covid booster. But it wasn’t just me who was jabbed this morning as Hector was due a vaccination too.

But whereas the vet plied her patient with tasty liver paste and various other canine treats, all I got from the person sticking a needle in me was her reassurance that I didn’t yet look 65, something which, given I’m a good few years off that particular landmark, I would like to think was obvious!

That a dog should be shown such favouritism doesn’t seem right to me but at least I came away with a sharps box which should enable the safe disposal of Hector’s baby teeth when they at last start falling out!

October 3rd

With tomorrow being the first day he’s allowed out, Hector has spent the day planning where he’d like to go for his first walk.

Sadly though, since he’s only allowed short excursions for a while, I’m going to have to tell him that his choice of a 10 mile hike taking in the Steart Marshes and Bridgwater Bay will have to wait ‘till he’s older.

October 4th

When in life you’re faced with a dilemma and you don’t know quite what course to take, do as I do and ask yourself this simple question:

WWHD – What would Hector do?

The answer will invariably be ‘Chew it’!

Hector would however like it to be known that he was absolutely NOT scared of the hoover this morning, it’s just that sometimes he likes being under the kitchen table.

He did enjoy his first walk up the field though.

October 5th

Hector enjoyed his interpretive dance class today. Asked by his instructor to convey the confining nature of the womb, he made imaginative use of his legs to represent the three blood vessels of the umbilical chord.

6th October

Next up in The Repair Shop is a man who has travelled up from Somerset with a rather ropey looking duck toy that has been in his family for literally minutes.

But it has now seen better days due to the way its been treated by the most recent arrival in his household.

‘It’ll take a lot of work to restore it’ says Jay Blades eyeing the item in a concerned fashion, ‘and frankly I’m not sure it’s worth the effort. If, that is, you’re going to keep the dog?’

The Somerset man indicates his understanding before sloping sadly away muttering as he does so something about how a dog is for life, and not just for September.

It seems that some jobs are too big for even a dream team of master craftspeople.

October 11th

At puppy training this week Hector learned the difference between ‘Wait’ and ‘Leave’.

‘Wait’ is the command given for something he can have after a short delay, whilst leave is the command for something he can never have.

So, for example, he should ‘wait’ for a treat but ‘leave’ a friends very expensive leather bag.

Pity he didn’t learn that a day earlier!

October 25th

The dogtor will see you now!

We were delighted to have Hector locuming for us today at East Quay Medical Centre and proving that Dr Phil Hammond was right when he said that for 90% of symptoms you’re better off with a dog than a doctor. He further pointed out that, as well as being an antidote to loneliness and a great incentive to exercise, our canine friends are always willing to give encouraging licks – something which most GPs are reluctant to do!

And as well as providing excellent care, Hector’s fee for the day, consisting as it did of just a handful of treats and a copious number of tickles, was highly competitive when compared against the going rate.

My only criticism would be that he did, perhaps, order too many Lab tests!

November 5th

Today I watch Planet Earth 3 and I am now looking forward to David Attenborough narrating an episode on this strange creature whose diet today has consisted of the sofa, earth from the garden and a Welsh cake. Carry on like that and he may well find himself on the endangered list!

I wouldn’t mind but he’s not even Welsh!

November 15th

Recently our back door has taken on a strange brown colour and we haven’t for the life of us been able to work out what might have caused it. Today though I think I might have caught the culprit…not red handed perhaps, but certainly muddy pawed!

November 21st

Whilst walking Hector in ‘The Peaks’, the rain it pitter-pattered,
But to our canny canine friend, in truth it hardly mattered,
For though a stream he’d not ‘ere seen, he showed no hesitation,
And so got wet without the need of cloud precipitation.

Along the sodden paths he sniffed, his tail he held up high,
And when the mud we bid him ‘Leave’, he could not fathom why,
‘Cos self respecting Labradors, will of their own volition,
Stop to devour, all they see fit, for speedy deglutition*!

*Apologies for the use of the fancy medical term for swallowing but old habits die hard and it was kind of necessary for the rhyme to work. I will try to be less magniloquent in future!

November 22nd

‘I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with S’, said Hector, demonstrating to everyone how good he now is at spelling. But his direction of gaze did somewhat give the game away!

November 23rd

Disappointed by suggestions that his spelling ability was imagined rather than real, Hector challenged me today to a game of Scrabble. He won of course – establishing an unassailable lead with an impressive opening score of 106, I never stood a chance!

November 25th

Pausing to avail myself of the flask of hot coffee with which I’d had the good sense to set out this morning, Hector took the opportunity to seat himself on a rocky ledge positioned a little higher than the patch of grass where I myself had chosen to take my ease.

Exaggerating the degree of fortification that his present surroundings provided, he then announced himself to be the ‘King of the Castle’, before having the temerity to add that he considered me to be a ‘rascal’, and a not particularly clean one at that. All this despite the fact that it was he, not I, who had spent much of our ramble consuming what most would consider unfit for canine, let alone human, consumption.

‘A rapscallion I may be’, I countered, ‘but at least I don’t eat the egested material of a hundred hillside herbivores’. The pleasure afforded me by my alliterative put down lasted only a moment however, as, adopting a supercilious air, he fixed me with his deep dark eyes and suggested that now might be a good time for me to polish his crown.

Chastened, I rummaged through my rucksack and pulled out the tin of Brasso that I always carry with for just such an occurrence as this. And so, dutifully submitting to the task in hand, I became the ever so humble servant of King Hector the Halitotic.

November 28th

Family birthday today – good to have extra help with the unwrapping!

December 4th

Can anyone translate – I’m not quite sure what he’s trying to say but it might have something to do with his having been taken out in the pouring rain. For anyone who can speak Labrador, I apologise for any bad language that this clip might contain!

December 6th

Once a Prime Minister has completed their first 100 days in office, it is not unusual for political commentators to review what that new premier has achieved in that time.

Well today marks the 100th day since Hector darkened our doors with his jet black fur. And so I thought that I’d reflect a little on what he has managed to achieved since joining us.

So far he has:

Destroyed a significant proportion of the plant life in our garden and left an unsightly hole in the already dismal looking lawn.

Devoured two and half very large sacks of puppy food and produced a seemingly greater amount of material that has had to be deposited in the conveniently positioned red bin situated at the end of our road

Disturbed over 90% of our nights with his nocturnal requests to have just one more moonlit stroll around the now barren flower beds.

Driven us to ever higher degrees of vigilance in a vain attempt to avoid a repeat of those occasions when he chewed up an unguarded paperback book or the straps of a dear friend’s rather expensive leather bag.

Covered the kitchen floor with his muddy paw prints such that our constant cleaning seems more futile than that of Sisyphus and his oversized boulder which, had he been there to ‘help’ Hector would probably have crunched into a thousand tiny pieces before leaving them strewn across the King of Ephyra’s courtyard.

Lain awkwardly across his bed in such a way that, with his airway partially obstructed, he snores so loudly and so persistently through the most tense moments of TV dramas that we can barely follow what’s going on.

And that’s just about it really – other than one last thing that he’s managed to do, namely to so endear himself to us that we wouldn’t want to ever be without him.

Which, when you think about it, is really rather odd!

December 11th

Dear Canine Behavioural Psychotherapist,

Judging by the holes that he has started digging in our back garden, my black Labrador puppy appears to believe himself to be part of the Leporidae family.

Should I

a) start feeding him carrots and have him vaccinated against myxomatosis

b) send him off to the circus in the hope that he can make a living in a freak show as the world’s only Rabbit Dog, or

c) concrete over the lawn and accept the fact that I was never going to win anything at the Chelsea flower show anyway.

Yours ever so sincerely but perhaps now just the teensiest bit exasperated…

December 12th

Dear Canine Behavioural Psychotherapist,

I’m sorry to bother you again but since our last communication, my allegedly intelligent black Labrador puppy seems to have taken, a little too literally, my assertion yesterday that he didn’t have a leg to stand on for his injudicious digging up of our back garden.

I say this as it would appear that he has now resolved, in his all too tiny mind, to try and eat his way through his own hindquarters. Having not come across such autocannabalistic endeavours before, I was wondering, should I:

a) allow him to continue unabated and reduce his daily food allowance accordingly,

b) check Amazon for a suitable prosthesis and, given his obvious enthusiasm for the task in hand, hope that it is available for next day delivery or

c) dig out my sons long discarded skateboard with a view to it forming the basis of a device upon which, when the inevitable happens, he can propel himself using only the power of his inherent determination to always move in the direction of food irrespective of how putrid the imagined tasty morsel might be?

Thank you in anticipation of having to correspond with you yet again in the not too far distant future.

Yours ever so sincerely…

December 16th

‘Sanctuary’ – for the dog who rolls in fox poo.

December 21st

Hector gets ready for his staring role in the local Nativity Play.

December 24th

‘Twas the night before Christmas and, at 4pm, when it had only just got dark, Hector got himself ready for bed evidently looking forward to what his stocking would contain in the morning!

He wasn’t, however, very good job at pretending to be asleep!

December 25th

Hector was pleased with his Christmas present – so much so he promptly destroyed it. Still I suppose it saves him having to write a thank you note!

January 1st

It’s early days but, so far at least, Hector’s New Year’s resolution, to always wipe his paws thoroughly after coming in from the garden, seems to be going pretty well!

But don’t be fooled by his innocent looking face, he’s only gone and eaten the bloomin’ Christmas tree!

Ah well, it was time we bought some new decorations anyway!

January 6th

When you’re a big dog but think you’re a small cat

January 7th

Dressed all in black it was perhaps inevitable that Hector would one day try his paw at football refereeing. Seems like he intends to come down hard on any wayward tackles!

January 21st

Our Hector is a Labrador
He’s not a smelly rat,
And so it is my earnest hope
That he’s now clear on that.

‘Cos poison meant for vermin,
Is food unfit for dogs,
Still Hector thought he’d try some but…
…he hasn’t popped his clogs!

We took him to our local vets,
Their treatment it succeeded,
But it ain’t like the NHS
Free at the point it’s needed.

The moral of this costly tale
Is dogs, ‘Eat poison less’
And to avoid high healthcare bills,
Fight for the NHS.

January 30th

In a desperate attempt to claw back some of the expense of his recent trip to the vet, we’ve decided that Hector now needs to get himself a job so as to be able to contribute to the household finances.

And so today he started work as a plumber’s assistant. It was a bit of wrench to see him leave home this morning, but who knows what as yet untapped talents he may possess!

Feel free to add your own plumbing related puns below – but please, don’t force it!

9th February

What a difference a dog makes,
Twenty four little weeks
Lost the sun and the flowers
Now there’s nothing but…

…well take a look for yourself!
Our garden, before and after Hector!

17th February

I’d like to say that this is a photograph of Hector helping me clear away the vast quantity of sticks and other assorted plant life, that he had previously distributed across our back lawn.

However, it’s not.

On the contrary, having spent a considerable while on the solitary task of completely filling a green wheely bin with the detritus resulting from his clumsy attempts at gardening, it should have come as no surprise to me that he would take the first opportunity afforded him to begin the enthralling task of trying to empty it all back out again.

This then, dear reader, is what is pictured here.

21st February

Suprised to find that we’d had a tree down overnight – I mean it wasn’t that windy. But then, what other explanation could there possibly be for this branch to appear in the middle of our lawn?

Oh, the Hec-tor, has such teeth, dear
And he shows them pearly white…

Well at least he apparars to have enjoyed his breakfast, given how he’s licking his lips!

25th February

Always nice to have someone waiting to welcome you back home…

2nd March

We have a Moldovan Pastor staying with us at the moment. The question is, will he survive his time with us. Because the toast he was about to enjoy for breakfast didn’t, not with Hector prowling around the dining table! Happily though, his fingers all remain intact!

Don’t be fooled by his innocent face!

March 31st – Easter Day

I’m sorry folks, but I’m afraid I have some rather tragic news to report.

After his mistress failed to share with him her Easter egg, Hector decided to take things into his own hands or, somewhat more precisely, he chose to take her arm into his mouth.

Things then spiralled out of control and what began as a harmless bit of fun, took a somewhat darker turn as he skipped about in front of me with the former Mrs Aird’s severed limb now dangling from his slavering jaws.

Regrettably, the tiny dog treat that I held out to my increasingly excited canine friend was not sufficient to persuade him to give up his ill gotten gains and I was, alas, unable to prevent him from stripping the scapula, humerus and ulna of and every ounce of flesh

And so it was, as I looked on helplessly, that I found myself wondering if I should have proffered one of my own chocolatey comestibles by way of distraction instead.

Which, of course, I would have done had the seasonal confectionery in question not been both a particular favourite of mine and wholly unsuited to a Labrador’s gastrointestinal system.

Still, you live and learn.

And even though I’ll miss the one to whom I was, until very recently, betrothed, I do at least have this photograph to remember her by!

April 3rd

Things you’d prefer your dog not to find washed up on the beach: No. 238

Oh Hector!

I mean it’s not as though his breath didn’t stink already!

April 4th

For Labradors of jet black hue, a walk it ain’t complete,
If nothing dead and putrid is available to eat,
But though today, the one thing in his mouth was long and pink, he
Still has breath, take it from me, that’s really rather stinky!

10th April

‘So,’ said Hector, after I explained to him, yet again, the behaviour we expected of him should we ever be foolish enough to leave him at home alone again, ‘let me see if I’ve got this right. I CAN empty the contents of the kong toy you left me with – but NOT that of my overpriced padded blanket’

‘That’s it in a nutshell’, I replied, my fractured mind, the consequence of nine long months in the presence of this Labradorian menace, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that I was now conversing with an apparently talking dog.

At which point I swear the canine creature’s facial features contorted into the barely perceptible, yet unmistakable grin of one who knew he was now the undisputed leader of the pack.

April 18th

Sometimes it’s good to paws for thought and consider the most important questions in life. Such as, what would we do without our canine friends?

Well a lot less hoovering for a start!

April 21st

Popped into the County Ground in Taunton for the afternoon session of Somerset v Nottinghamshire to give Hector his first taste of championship cricket.

Initially he was keen to see all that was going on but enthusiasm did wain just before tea after what hadn’t, perhaps, been the most enthralling couple of hours play.

As you can see below though, he did make two appearances on the livestream with Vic Marks, a childhood hero of mine describing his antics!

As the Test Match Special commentator said,
‘I think you’ll find that when there’s a hungry dog on the screen, not much is happening out in the middle!

April 23rd

Whether you’ve arrived here, by bicycle or car
Whether you are local or have travelled from afar
The fact remains the same, dear friend, you’ll end up in a pickle
If you don’t stop to chat awhile and give this chap a tickle!

Now you may be a neighbour, or a postie with a letter
Either way, do as I say, it really would be better
And please take note all ne’er do wells with intentions not good
If you ignore his pleading eyes he’ll wake the neighbourhood!

And if you are a GP who is visiting the sick,
Best bring some sanitiser, for your hands he’s sure to lick,
But have no fear, though he’s enclosed, within a garden gated,
He’ll not pass on canine disease, he’s fully vaccinated!

April 24th

In Stella Gibbon’s book, ‘Cold Comfort Farm’, the characters frequently refer to there being something nasty in the woodshed.

What exactly it is is never fully explained, but we’re left in no doubt that it’s something sinister that is best kept hidden from the world at large.

Well today I went to my tool shed – and found there something equally dark and inexplicable!

April 28th

When you know you shouldn’t have, did anyway, and fear now that you’ve been found out!

May 4th

May 5th

No, not a still from a canine remake of ‘The Great Escape’, but an attempt by Hector to reach the sandwich that someone had discarded on the other side of the fence.

As for the aforementioned film, Hector did audition for the Steve McQueen role but wasn’t successful – not because of an inability to ride a motorbike you understand, but due to his insufficiently blue eyes.

To be fair though, he’d probably have been better casted as an S.S. Officer. That, or for a part which involved more actual digging!

May 6th

Bluebells, and breath that smells,
Slobbering jowls,
Black hairs, and chewed up chairs,
Erratic bowels,
Vice like jaws, and muddy paws,
Bags full of poo,
All kinds of everything, remind me of you.

May 9th

After discovering that the lower branches of my little apple tree have been largely destroyed by a creature or creatures unknown, I have begun researching whether or not there is a breed of miniature giraffe that might, perhaps, be indigenous to the British Isles.

If, however, my quest for such an animal proves fruitless* then I suppose I will have to come up with some more obvious explanation.

*much as I expect my apple tree to be this summer

Hector though, might just have given himself away with this attempt of his to help me prune the roses!

May 10th

At the end of a week that had me, on more than one occasion, telling Hector to stop ripping branches from the plant life that surrounds our garden, today I spent the morning wielding a hedge trimmer almost as indiscriminately at Hector does his sharp white teeth.

Inevitably Hector joined me to help with the clear up operation, and as he did so I a swear I heard him mutter ‘Hypocrite!’

It was either that or ‘After you with the power tool!’

Apparently, I missed a bit!

13th May

‘No, it’s the middle of the night and you can’t stay out any longer in the hope of seeing the aureola borealis’

May 21st

Now I know he lives in Somerset, and that the Wurzels are, inevitably, his favourite band, but I do wish Hector wouldn’t rewrite the lyrics of their songs and then pose for a promotional picture in the hope of piquing the interest of a hot shot record producer!

Now some dogs like to boast about how fast that they can run,
And others of how many best in show rosettes they’ve won,
But Hector, he’s not like that, as he’d rather spend an hour,
Taking pride in what he finds that he can then devour

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, from Chard to Cirencester
Hi, ho, the folks all know, he’s the world’s best dung digester

May 25th

The black Labrador
Lies in the sunny garden
And whittles away.

Why do you do it,
Hector, dog of ill repute.
Why, O why, O why?

May 31st

SPOT THE DIFFERENCE!

Six young tomato plants, lined up in a row,
Six young tomato plants, lined up in a row,
And if one black Labrador, should misunderstand ‘No!’,
There’ll be five young tomato plants, lined up in a row!

I expect those that remain to suffer a similar fate and thus fail, unlike a certain lettuce, to survive long enough to see who will be the next Prime Minister!

June 2nd

BREAKING NEWS

The leaders of the two main parties were shocked today as news broke that a Black Labrador was hoping to become the next MP for Taunton Deane.

Today, at a packed press conference, Hector announced his intention to run for parliament adding that, with the country having gone to the dogs, it was only right that he should be unleashed and given a chance to lead the nation. Unveiling his canine manifesto, he promised to address environmental concerns by introducing a ‘walkies to work’ policy within days of his being elected.

Asked who would make up his cabinet in the event of his becoming Prime Minster, Hector explained that such decisions would be made based on the past performance of those in his party – as such he’d be looking to see who has the waggiest tail, who has the most appealing eyes, and who has the best fiscal policy for economic growth.

Refusing to be drawn on ‘Tomatogate’, and sidestepping questions regarding allegations of historic garden vandalism, Hector sought instead to reassure voters regarding his plans for national security. Insisting that Cuddles the Cockapoo continued to have his full support, he dismissed as unfounded claims that the prospective Defence Secretary once allowed his home to be burgled when the intruder offered him a sausage.

Finally, in a move that is likely to be popular with voters in marginal seats, Hector promised to legislate for all dogs to be allowed on the furniture and to introduce heavy fines for disreputable owners caught breaking dog treats in half.

‘This appalling behaviour has been increasing under successive administrations’, he claimed. ‘For far too long the dogs of this country have been badly let down by both the Conservatives and the Labour Party. But now at last we have a chance to bring about real change. It’s an op-paw-tunity we must not fail to take and so, on July 4th, I urge you to vote neither red nor blue. Instead: Vote Black! Vote Labrador! Vote Hector!’

June 7th

Things seen only when your baby granddaughter comes to stay – No: 325

And things seen only when your grandson comes to stay…and it is felt by someone that he needs a little help with watering the garden. No: 164

June 12th

Hector’s bucket list:

1. Eat the bucket.
2. …

June 12th

Actually, I think I do know who this dog is…and why he is banned from the park. And it’s got nothing to do with ball games being prohibited!

June 15th

He’s just playing, his piano…

June 18th

I suppose it’s kind of fitting – unable to control our dog, we now can’t control the TV!

Oh Hector!

June 28th

Of Hector this year, I’ve shared quite a lot,
Of how he does things that he really should not,
So now it’s the case from Belgrade to Bridgwater,
Folk know he seldom behaves as he oughta.

He’s chewed through a table leg, chewed through a tree.
He’s chewed through a Bible, to Acts Chapter three
He’s chewed in a manner, worthy of a goat,
He’s chewed through the case of our TV remote.

He prowls round the garden, digs holes in the grass,
At pulling up rhubarb, he’s top of the class,
And as for those tasty, tall, tomato plants,
With Hector about, well they haven’t a chance.

A gooseberry crumble with custard is nice,
The thought of one now though, will have to suffice.
Cos he’s eaten the bush, and the fruit – which ain’t cool,
And so he’s made himself the gooseberry fool!

When asking to enter, he muddies the door,
And after he’s fed, he leaves drool on the floor,
And as for his movements, we know where he’s been,
For that’s where a coating of dog hair is seen.

When walking in woodland, oh what a delight
If Hector, when summoned, should hove into sight,
But not if our noses, to us then suggest,
He’s gone and rolled in something foxes egest!

The nights, they are short, in both June and July,
When Hector wakes up in them – I ask him ‘Why?’
He tells me that whilst I might long for my bed,
He’d rather play in the garden instead!

That he can be friendly though can’t be denied,
Cos sometimes he’ll sidle up close by your side,
But don’t be misled as you’ll still need protection,
For he’ll often attack after shows of affection.

With Hector a one year old, it’s now my wish,
He’d stop combing beaches for rotting dead fish,
But I have my doubts that he’ll ever mature,
Or give up his fondness for eating manure!

But despite all his foibles, his faux pas, and faults,
Despite all his fearsome, full frontal assaults,
Despite all he mangles that we’ll never mend,
I’d not be without my fine four-footed friend!

July 3rd

STOP PRESS

Despite trying to garner support for his campaign by bungee jumping off the Clifton suspension bridge, I regret to have to inform you that Hector today has had to withdraw from tomorrow’s General Election.

This was after it emerged that he had placed a bet on himself NOT winning ‘Most obedient Labrador’ in Nempnett Thrubwell’s upcoming novelty dog show. And this after I told him he had no chance!

Furthermore, his announcement yesterday that, if elected, he’d not be available to work on Friday evenings has drawn additional criticism. Whilst nobody has used his decision to cast doubt on his all too apparent commitment to the cause, some have questioned how his stated desire to dedicate that time to devouring the trees in his back garden, fits in with his manifesto pledge to champion green issues.

Hector appreciates how disappointing this news will be to the huge number of supporters who have been backing him to become the UK’s first canine Prime Minister and asks for both their understanding and the privacy he and his family need at this difficult time.

It is rumoured that he is now considering running to become the next President of the United States, a role for which neither his past misdemeanours, nor his oftentimes bizarre behaviour, should in any way prove a disadvantage.

July 4th

Requisite picture of Hector at the Polling Station – the only problem being that, as I took this snap, he realised he’d forgotten his photo ID and so nipped back home to fetch it.

Mind you, in the unlikely event of him actually retrieving it, and it being in one piece by the time he gets back, I doubt he’ll allow it to be removed from his mouth so as to be inspected. Perhaps it’s best just to put him down as a ‘Don’t know’!

July 11th

‘Isn’t he sweet’ said the lady who saw him waiting outside the supermarket. If she only knew!

July 14th

We’re on our way from Somerset to Essex, ahead of the young master’s marriage next weekend. Hector’s very excited about the upcoming nuptials, but at some point I’m going to have to break it to him that, despite him being man’s best friend, he’s been passed over for the role of his friend’s best man. Which is a shame, as the speech he’s written is really rather good!

July 15th

Hector particularly enjoyed his walk today which just happened to pass by Flatford Mill, the place where Constable once famously painted ‘The Haywain’.

This despite his personal preference for the work of Caravaggio who, he maintains, paved the way for the austere realism of Neoclassicism through the Italian master’s own bold use of chiaroscuro.

And who am I to disagree with a black Labrador who claims to have an MA in the History of Art – something that, hitherto, he’s curiously never mentioned!

July 18th

Selected to represent Great Britain in the only open swimming event at this year’s Olympics, Hector grabbed this opportunity at Frinton-on Sea for some additional training.

Remarkably, he claims also to be hopeful of reaching the final in the Men’s Synchronised 3m Springboard competition.

July 21st

It’s little wonder that Hector was so exhausted after yesterday’s celebrations that he felt the need to sleep on today’s long car journey back home to Somerset.

For, having stunned fellow wedding guests by appearing on the dance floor stylishly dressed in a Hugo Boss tuxedo, he then proceeded to dance the night away with a range of moves that drew incredulous gasps from those gazing on in amazement.

Asked to comment on the marriage itself, Hector said that he could not be more delighted adding that he considered himself, not to have lost a young master, but rather to have gained a young mistress.

July 28th

No longer welcome poolside, after distracting two Australian athletes during their final dive in the Women’s synchronised 3m springboard, Hector will today go for gold in the Men’s Tree Felling and Whittling Competition! Training has been going well.

30th July

Irrespective of how desperate he is to take part in this year’s Paris Olympics, Hector’s bid to act as a ballboy in Andy Murray’s next match still looks doomed to failure!

July 31st

…and the same to you too!

August 1st

HECTOR’S FABLES No: 32
THE DOG AND THE TORTOISE

Once upon a time there was a Black Labrador who loved to play and stay out late – even on a school night. One day he met a wise and respected tortoise who told him he should behave more responsibly.

But the Labrador just laughed at such a fanciful idea and chose instead to skip gleefully around the garden with the tortoise now gripped firmly between his jaws.

And what an entertaining time he had.

The End.

Moral: A tortoise in the mouth only adds to the fun!

NB: For those who may be worried about the tortoise…it’s an ornamental one!

August 8th

They say that the guilty always return to the scene of the crime. And so it seems to be.

But, credit where credit is due. When I asked a certain rapscallion who was responsible for the carnage that caught my eye as I looked, bleary eyed, out of the kitchen window this morning, Hector answered, like the revered first U.S. president before him, ‘I cannot tell a lie – it was I who wrenched another three branches off the arboreal wonder that you’d hoped this year would provide the core ingredient for a fruit based pastry encased dessert.

Mind you, he could hardly deny it – not with the photographic evidence available that, along with the all too apparent destruction, shows the obvious relish with which it was accomplished. By which I mean Hector’s enthusiasm for his nefarious actions, not the Tomato and Zucchini Chutney that he’d taken into the garden but, sadly for him, the lid of which he hadn’t been able to unscrew!

Ah well – looking on the bright side – at least I’ll no longer need to urge the current Mrs A not to sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, because it won’t be long before such shelter no longer remains for her to rest beneath – with me or anybody else!

August 9th

This week a chap knocked at my door collecting for ‘The Dogs Trust’. He kept on and on about how the charity had never put a healthy dog down.

So in the end I took pity on him…and I gave him Hector!

July 15th

I’ve just finished rewatching the classic 1979 horror film ‘Alien’. For those unfamiliar with the plot, it tells the story of how a non-human life form invades the living space of a small number of individuals and proceeds to terrorise them as, concealed in the shadows, it prowls around the place, leaving in its wake a trail of both death and destruction.

I don’t know though, perhaps it’s because of one who now dwells within my household, but it didn’t seem quite as terrifying it did previously.

Below are two photographs. One shows an organism whose ‘structural perfection is matched only by its hostility’, a creature ‘unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality’. The other is taken from a poster used to advertise the movie.

August 18th

Yesterday, Hector leapt into a river – one that he later discovered he was unable to leap back out of. And, given the anxious look on his face as he tried, and failed, to scramble onto the bank, I imagined he was grateful that I had been on hand to eventually haul him out of the water.

And so, I began to wonder, how he would be affected by such an alarming near death experience. Would he

a) consider himself forever in my debt and therefore look to reform himself into the exemplary canine companion that I’d always hoped he’d be,

or,

b) recognise how brief life can sometimes be and therefore embark upon a lifetime of determinedly hedonistic disobedience?

Regrettably, early indicators would suggest the latter!

August 22nd

Good that he’s finally grown out of that ridiculous way he used to sleep as a puppy.

August 23rd

Having gone just about as far as his teeth will take him, it seems Hector’s ready to take things to the next level.

August 24th

This evening, on his evening stroll, Hector made a new friend. I think it might be love! Perhaps the beast has finally been tamed.

August 28th

Though it seems like we’ve had him forever, it’s a year today that we first brought Hector home. Twelve months on he’s older and wiser – well he’s certainly older – and despite discovering yesterday he suffers with skatzochoirophobia we wouldn’t be without him…generally speaking at least!

August 29th

Having been mentioned on a national radio program, Hector asks Alexia to yet again play the bit where he gets a name check!

September 3rd

Having been caught digging a hole in the garden, it seems there are at least three ways one can respond – blind panic, deep remorse or bored indifference!

September 9th

Today we walked the Cornish Coast Path to Port Isaac. And what excitement we had as Hector auditioned to become the latest member of The Fisherman’s Friends.

There on the slipway, he sang his littlheart out. Never has ‘No Hopers, Jokers and Rogues’ been sung with such gusto – nor by one so qualified to sing it.

We await the inevitable phone call and the ensuing worldwide fame!

September 10th

After yesterday’s shock news that he was joining ‘The Fisherman’s Friends’, the music world was rocked further today when Hector announced that he was now leaving the band in order to pursue a solo career. Citing ‘artistic differences’ as the reason for the split, the black Labrador added that he wanted to be unleashed so as to be able to wander off in a totally different direction to the rest of the group.

At a hastily arranged press conference, the social media influencer released a couple of stills and a few tantalising seconds of the promotional video that will accompany his debut single. He then assured his many followers that ‘Blackberry Hill’ would be available for digital download in early December.

A Christmas Number One now seems inevitable.

I found my thrill,
On Blackberry Hill,
Where I ate my fill
Of fruit so sweet

It’s now my will,
To linger there still,
On Blackberry Hill,
More fruit to eat.

My master he said to me
‘Hector, please come quick,
Can’t you see what I can see?
You’ll make yourself sick!’

I’ll not refute,
I’d just eat until,
I made myself ill,
On Blackberry Hill.

September 11th

You know that thing you sometimes see in films – when the somewhat shady character’s eyes, momentarily glow a menacing alternative colour and thus reveal their inherent evilness?

Only I saw

September 13th

Just a few photos to show that, despite what I sometimes say abHector is just a regular Labrador who likes nothing more than a long walk – especially one that follows the narrow Cornish coast path that passes just inches away from a precipitous drop into the Atlantic Ocean.

But despite the obvious potential for disaster, on this occasion at least, Hector was exceptional company on a day when his behaviour was exemplary – save, that is, for nearly dislocating my shoulder as his extendable lead abruptly reached its limit, his ungentlemanly snatching of one of our tuna sandwiches at lunchtime, and his copious consumption of the Cornish cow pats that came pre-warmed in the late summer sunshine.

Dogs – who’d have ‘em?!

September 16th

The view from my study window this afternoon – my attention being drawn by a strange noise that sounded a bit like a tree being felled. That and someone, or something, shouting ‘Tim-ber!’

Yes Hector, you were spotted! And your attempts at looking innocent are fooling nobody!

September 25th

More talented than that dog on ‘That’s Life’, Hector the Ventriloquist has some news for the Prime Minister!

September 28th

Today Hector helped mow the lawn…

October 1st

It was those in his family who knew he had a problem first.

But when ‘H’ started waking in the night and rousing the whole household with his incessant barking, when he found himself staring anxiously into the back garden, convinced he’d heard something snuffling beneath the gooseberry bush, he knew he had to do something about it.

Are you similarly afflicted? If so, call
04 – the sake of all things prickly.

Skatzochoirophobics Anonymous
We’re here to help.

October 6th

When the top shelf where the tennis balls are kept proves to be just out of reach…

October 7th

I may look gormless, but I know how to look at you adoringly. And sooner or later you will do exactly what I want you to. Because I have the power to make you tickle me!

October 14th

Today, whilst strolling the Herefordshire countryside, I learnt something about myself that I hadn’t previously recognised…that I am now the proud owner of not only a tennis elbow and a housemaid’s knee, but also a policeman’s heel! It seems, therefore, only inevitable that I will soon complete the set, and be furnished with the only eponymous body part actually appropriate to my current employment – a Black Labrador Walker’s shoulder.

I guess it’s all down to old age. Which presumably also accounts for the plethora of adverts for ‘Pure Cremation’ that have, rather alarmingly, been popping up on my Facebook feed of late.

The attached photo is of Hector looking suitably funereal whilst sat outside the church where we’d stopped to refuel. It was taken just moments after he’d purloined the ham and mustard sandwich that was supposed to have made up the greater part of our meagre picnic lunch. Regrettably, this was a misdemeanour for which he showed less repentance than I would have liked – especially given the consecrated ground on which the theft took place!

October 15th

Not having a dishwasher at home, it’s a treat for Hector to have one when on holiday!

October 16th

It’s been a disappointing day for Hector.

Given the grey skies, and accompanying, less than optimistic forecast, we curtailed our morning walk and decided instead to enter Hector into the conveniently scheduled Hope Mansell Annual Squirrel Chase – the premier event of Herefordshire’s burgeoning sporting calendar made up of competitive small mammal pursuits.

But despite appearing as ‘The Black Beast of the Blackdown Byways’, Hector’s impressively alliterative though less than succinct sobriquet, the poor dog barely stood a chance. Already suffering from a severe lack of confidence following an embarrassing home defeat against an oversized hedgehog with a positively prickly personality, Hector was further disadvantaged by not having access to his revolutionary wet weather paws. And to cap it all, on the rare occasions when he did come close to catching his quarry, those scurrilous Sciuridae all, rather unsportingly I felt, took to darting up trees in order to avoid capture.

The photograph below was taken by the ‘pup-arazzi’ who, following his humiliating defeat, saw fit to ‘hound’ him down and compound his misery by recording it for the dubious entertainment of readers of ‘Woof!’ Magaz. It shows a bedraggled Hector in somewhat pensive mood – as trophy-less as his ‘nil points’ deserved.

Ah well Hector, better luck next year!

October 17th

Advice please.

What is the appropriate course of action after noticing something unaccountably different about one half of the not inexpensive pair of gloves that had once acted as a precious birthday gift to one’s nearest and dearest?

Should one…

a) act as if nothing had happened, reward the likely culprit by first feeding him his normal breakfast and then taking him for an all day walk in the mercifully warm sunshine, making sure that, before you head off, along with your own picnic, you’ve included something more appropriate for him to eat for his lunch too,

b) engage Trustpilot’s highest rated home security company with a view to them installing all of their advanced safety measures in order to ensure the future preservation of one’s few remaining, as yet undamaged, treasured possessions, or

c) suggest to it’s once proud owner that she proffer to the still insatiably ravenous jaws the same hand that was once proffered to you in marriage, in the confident expectation that, with the corresponding finger similarly removed, the glove would once again be rendered fully functional?

Asking for a friend!

October 18th

If you can run in woods all day, and not come once when called,
If you can eat the kinds of things that leave owners appalled,
If you can leave your fur in places that you’ve never been,
And be to blame for countless crimes which you commit unseen,
If you can chomp your masters things into a thousand bits,
And still ensure he feeds you first when for his lunch he sits
If you can pester picnickers that you’ve not met before
And be a pain whilst fast asleep as noisily you snore,
And if, e’en so, you’re loved by those that you drive round the bend,
It’s plain to see, for folks like me, you’ll be a Lab my friend!

October 22nd

There was a time when, engaged in a spot of gardening, I’d be accompanied by a dainty little Robin. Not any more though.

November 3rd

Last night Hector was expecting to appear at the conclusion of the second day of SGA’s annual conference. But despite rehearsals having gone well, on learning that he would be attempting to juggle flaming torches whilst riding a unicycle, the hotel manager prohibited his performance on account of their somewhat restrictive health and safety policy.

And neither, it seems, were they insured for canine magicians to perform tricks involving the sawing in half of those resident in the hotel. I did suggest to staff that Hector could ask one of their day visitors to act as his assistant, but they were having none of it.

Hector was understandably disappointed!

Perhaps next year!

November 7th

The vet will see you now…even if you try hiding under her chair!

For a moment I thought Hector might be anti-vaccination, but he was soon won round by a couple of tasty dog treats!

November 12th

Usually, after forking out the hefty veterinary fee commensurate with the removal, under anaesthetic, of a stick from a dog’s throat, you at least have the consolation of the aforementioned hound looking ridiculous as it staggers around the house still drunk from the drugs that continue to affect a nervous system so rudimentary that it hasn’t yet learnt that a diet made up of nothing but pointy bits of an erstwhile hedge is wholly inappropriate!

But not Hector – oh no! A canine companion who didn’t even afford this simple pleasure managing instead nothing but a few amusingly plaintive whimpers to cheer me on my way.

One would like to think he’d live and learn – but I rather suspect I’ll have to settle for the former of those two aspirations!

And the first person who comments something along the lines of ‘poor Hector’, hereby agrees to contribute 10% of the cost of his latest misadventure!

November 27th

Saw this book in Waterstones today – but I don’t think I need it. I was in a school in Romania last week, helping in some English lessons, and the first question the children asked me was, ‘How’s Hector?’!

November 30th

With tomorrow marking the beginning of Advent, Hector is already looking forward to Christmas. He says:

‘Having been exceptionally good all year, I can’t wait to open all the gifts Santa will surely leave me when he pops down my chimney this Christmas Eve.’

Little does he know that this week I’ve had a letter from old St Nicholas himself, informing me that, having carried out a thorough risk assessment, he will not be visiting any household within a three mile radius of any home where Hector resides.

I can only apologise to the children of Wellington, Somerset!

November 30th

Given the effect Kryptonite has on Superman, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by what these did to Hector!

December 6th

So the National Emergency Alert sounds and immediately I find myself asking two questions – ‘Where is he?’ and ‘What has he done now?’

December 14th

When it’s cold outside, and the boiler’s on the blink, it’s good to lay claim to a hot water bottle for your own exclusive use – especially when it’s been left unattended on the sofa by somebody else!

December 18th

With December 25th just a week away, there are now only, and this is a conservative estimate, 35 more sleeps for Hector before the big day. No wonder he’s getting into the Christmas spirit!

So, before he goes and hangs up his stocking, I suppose I ought to tell him about the correspondence I had recently regarding Santa’s imminent non-arrival. The only thing is, if I do, and Hector has another one of his ‘moments’, what chance is there that the tree, already non ‘non-drop’, will last untill the New Year?

December 20th

With our guests starting to arrive tomorrow, it is, of course, good to know that Hector is infestation free. But can anyone tell me if it’s acceptable to spend more on your dog’s flea and tick treatment than on your wife’s Christmas present?

Asking for a friend!

December 24th

I say, I say, I say. Why is a traditional Christmas tree like a Black Labrador?

Because, however much you hoover, you can never completely eradicate evidence of their having once been in your front room!

And with that example of his unique brand of observational canine humour that he hopes will wow audiences at next years Edinburgh fringe, Hector would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

December 25th

Having left Hector in the kitchen whilst we went to church this morning, we returned to find him stretched out in front of the oven.

Having established that the motionless hound hadn’t had a stroke, we naturally assumed that he was simply enjoying the warmth emanating from the temporary additional heat source.

Until, that is, we realised that he was actually trying to stop us from looking inside the oven and seeing what he’d done to the turkey!

December 26th

Having posted yesterday about what is rapidly becoming known as ‘Turkeygate’, I received a letter this morning from a firm of solicitors based in Barking, the contents of which I now reproduce to alert others to the perils of sharing about their pet dog online.

Dear Sir,

We write on behalf of our client, Hector ‘Watching the gathering crowds’ Aird, who is seeking legal representation regarding what he claims are a series of scurrilous stories that you have reported on social media platforms which have had little, if any, basis in truth. By suggesting that his behaviour is not always that which would be expected of his breed, he considers that as well as causing irreparable damage to his own reputation, you have brought shame on all black Labradors in general.

In particular, he asks that you make it clear to those you are associated with that, despite you having used photographs to suggest otherwise, he has never acted as a caped vigilante in a small market town in southwest England, he has never attended interpretive dance classes or held an MA in the History of Art, and he has never sought high political office, either here or in the U.S., or bungee jumped off the Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol. Furthermore he has never worked as a plumber, auditioned for a part in ‘The Great Escape’ or represented Team GB in any Olympic event. And most specifically of all, he has never physically removed a turkey from a hot oven only to replace it half eaten. This last fabrication is perhaps the one that our client finds most upsetting of all since no self respecting lab would ever devour less than the complete contents of any roasting tin placed in front of them.

We look forward to your prompt retraction of all these false allegations as well as the many others we have noticed you have made in a blog entitled ‘The Chronicles of Hector.’

Failure to do so will result in legal proceedings being taken against you,

Yours sincerely…

Obviously this letter has come as something of a shock to me but, given how Hector destroyed large quantities of wrapping paper yesterday, something that I do have indisputable evidence for, I thought it best to treat it with the same contempt he did when I passed it to him for comment!

December 27th

Having had the grandchildren staying for a few days, Hector has has been busy this Christmas doing what Labradors do best – hovering expectantly around the youngest’s high chair and expertly hoovering up the food that unaccountably ends up on the floor beneath it.

No wonder then that, with his guests having now left, all he wants to do is to chill out to the cool sounds of Chet Baker.

NB – the authenticity of this story has been fact checked by BBC Verify and found to be largely true. Though there was no reason to doubt that he enjoyed the experience, it could not be established quite how much pleasure Hector was afforded by the Jazz trumpeteer, as his preference is usually for the cornet playing Bix Beiderbecke.

January 3rd

With the new year just three days old, how are you getting on keeping the resolutions you made earlier this week. Better than Hector I’d wager. Here’s how he’s faring…

I will not insist on being walked in the pouring rain ❌
Neither will I insist on being walked in the freezing cold ❌
I will come promptly every time I’m called ❌
I will show genuine appreciation to the one who feeds me and never bite his hand ❌
And I will definitely not ever eat anything so disgusting that sheep poo subsequently serves as an effective breath freshener ❌

January 7th

THE SOUND OF HECTOR – HIS FAVOURITE THINGS

Biting the hand, even those that might feed me,
Following not where my master might lead me,
Never retrieving the ball that he flings,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Lying on sofas that I’m not supposed to,
Wrecking all plant life that I’ve been exposed to,
Rolling in fox poo – it’s scent to me clings,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Spending all day having my tummy tickled,
Consuming food if it’s not yet been pickled,
Barking whenever the doorbell it rings,
These are a few of my favourite things.

My dirty paw prints all over the kitchen,
Using my hind leg to scratch what is itchin’,
Being attended to as should all kings,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Zooming round gardens as if I’m delirious,
Staring at folk with a look supercilious,
Making a mess of what the postman brings,
These are a few of my favourite things,

Whining when ignored, when I won’t be muted,
Eating what’s smelly, what’s rotten and putrid,
Crazily jumping as if I’m on springs,
These are a few of my favourite things,

When I’m all wet,
Or at the vet,
And the days are tough,
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don’t feel so ruff!

January 18th

And there was I thinking Hector was a pedigree – turns out he’s half lemur!

February 10th

The world is a safer place this evening with Hector the canine criminal facing his first night behind bars.

Charged with offences too numerous to mention, the heinous hound heard the jury deliver their guilty verdict whilst sprawled out in the dock and seemingly showing stark disregard to the judge who, handing down a custodial sentence, urged the lamentable Lab to forget any plans to dig, or chew, his way out of prison, and instead spend his time there learning how to ‘stay’ and ‘wait’.

Dragged defiantly from the court by the German Shepherd to whom he was paw-cuffed, Hector vowed that his beagle team would appeal what he claimed was his unlawful detention.

February 14th

My love he is a black, black Lab,
Despite how he’s forgotten,
That eating dead things found on walks,
Is why his breath smells rotten.

I love him though he advocates
For canine orthodoxy,
And like all self respecting hounds,
He rolls in poo that’s foxy.

When muddy pawed he walks across,
Clean kitchen floors he shouldn’t,
His big brown eyes, apologise
So love him not, I couldn’t.

Still on those days, when for his crimes,
I somehow take the blame,
And in the dog house I reside,
I love him just the same.

And though, ‘tis true, he tends to drool,
‘Ere breakfast, lunch and tea,
And belches once he’s had his fill,
He’s still the one for me.

If he’s not paid attention too,
He’ll whimper and he’ll whine,
He is then quite high maintenance,
But he’s my Valentine!

February 19th

Today Hector has been going undercover. So is the bed occupied?!

20th February

Today I’ve been trying to teach Hector how to play Mancala. But I don’t thinks he quite grasped the rules of the game yet!

February 26th

BREAKING NEWS:

Hector has been chosen as the face of the new advertising campaign for Marmite.

Contrary to some reports, this is due to his silky black fur and natty yellow hat, and not because people either love him or hate him.

February 28th

In springtime, a young dog’s fancy turns to thoughts…probably as inconsequential as those he harbours the rest of the year!

March 14th

Few are the folk who’d accept-a
Church with a dog as its rector,
So please take care lest he,
Appears in your vestry,
Claiming to be the Rev Hector!

Introducing the new Bishop of Bark and Smells.

March 20th

Spring is here, sp-ring is here
Life ‘twill be cricket, the season is near,
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring,
I do.
Don’t you?
Course you do!

But there’s one thing that makes spring complete for me,
That makes every Thursday a treat for me…

All the world seems in tune on a spring afternoon,
As we lie on the lawn with a Lab,
Every Thursday you’ll see, my sweetheart and me,
As we lie on the lawn with a Lab

When he sees us coming, he’ll greet us delightedly,
And then he’ll attack us and oh so excitedly.

The sun’s shining bright,
Everything seems all right,
When we lie on the lawn with a Lab

He’s gained notoriety,
And caused insobriety,
And untold anxiety,
With his larks.
And polite society,
Insists that he quietly,
Behaves with propriety whenever he barks.

But no one says that we should all pay a fine,
For wanting to rest with a…canine.

So if Thursday you’re free,
Why don’t you come with me,
And we’ll lay on the lawn with a Lab.
And maybe we’ll chew up a big stick or two,
As we lay on the lawn with a Lab,

You’ll see how we love him right up to the minute he
Releases an odour into our vicinity.

Our bodies we’ll stretch em out,
As his lunch he retches out,
And whilst yawning lazily,
Forlornly and crazily,
We’ll lay on the lawn with a Lab

[with apologies to Tom Lehrer]

March 25th

Never having fully understood the command, Hector couldn’t understand why Rose would ever want to!

And so, in store tonight…Black Labrador!

Only with him already eyeing up the loose carrots, I didn’t have time to take a photo!

March 28th

He’s a bit bigger I suppose, but not a lot else has changed!

April 10th

Dear canine agony aunt…or uncle.

In recent months I have made it my habit to consume three times my body weight in the form of bits of wood that I come across on my daily walk. This is easily accomplished when I am exercised in woodland but no less possible when strolling around more suburban areas as it is amazing how much one can find there to munch on if one puts one’s half a mind to it.

As a result of my endeavours, I now find that what I egest is generally entirely suitable for disposal in the garden waste, something that is, I would have thought, a good thing since it should surely mean that it saves my owner the inconvenience and, let’s face it, humiliation of carrying it to the nearest of those generally red bins that are scattered around all our neighbourhoods these days.

But despite the obvious benefits, he seems less than grateful for my gargantuan ‘efforts’ and keeps on at me to change what, given its high fibre content, is undoubtedly an extremely healthy diet.

I would be grateful for your advice on how I should manage what is becoming an increasingly thorny problem – in more ways than one.

Yours faithfully,

Hector.

April 17th

Your breath smells liyesterday’s kippers
You walk like an ungainly frog,
You eat all the things that you shouldn’t,
And you say you know Deputy Dawg – yes you do.
Your paw prints you leave on the carpet,
And you don’t come no matter who calls,
You steal what’s not yours from the cupboards,
In fact your behaviour appalls, yes it does, ha, ha, ha.

But where do you go to, my lovely,
When you’re are cold in your bed?
Tell me the thoughts that surround you,
I want to look inside your head, yes, I do.

You’ve munched your way through half our garden,
The lawn’s in a terrible state,
And whilst you maintain you’re not guilty,
That’s something that’s up for debate, yes it is
Our hoover it struggles to cope with,
The hair that you leave on the floor,
And daily you seem to endeavour,
To leave your mark on the back door, yes you do.

But I know where you go to, my lovely
When you’re too cold in your bed –
You seek out a windowsill sunny.
Where nowt goes on inside your head!

With apologies to Peter Sarstedt

April 21st

Flowers safely planted – for the time being at least…

April 25th

SPOT THE DIFFERENCE:

One is mercilessly violent, not great on stairs and best viewed whilst hiding behind the settee – and the other is a Dalek.

April 29th

The CAGE questionnaire is used to assess whether someone has a problem with substance misuse? Well today I asked Hector its four, highly pertinent questions.

C: Have you ever felt you should Cut down on the number of sticks you eat?

No.

A: Have people Annoyed you by criticizing your stick eating?

No.

G: Have you ever felt bad or Guilty about eating sticks?

Definitely not!

E: Have you ever, as an Eye-opener, had a stick first thing in the morning to steady your nerves.

Almost every day.

So Hector scores 1 – meaning we needn’t be concerned.

May 1st

He told the vet that he’s trying to give them up – that he only ever chews outside, and even then, never in front of the children.

Liar!

Mind you, he’d tell you of a dog he once knew who chewed six bones a day…and how he lived to 15!

May 2nd

I know he’s not a chocolate Lab, but there’s something of the Green and Black’s about Hector today!

What’s more, I think he’s beginning to melt!

May 3rd

Well would you credit it?

Shortly after this photo was taken, Hector made a dash for it and pulled the sword of Arthurian legend from the stone thus proving himself to be the once and future King of Britain.

Which is nice!

May 5th

Dyfed-Powys police were inundated today by reports of a black, dog-like creature that had been seen terrorising the local neighbourhood.

So it was a little surprising that, despite being in the general vicinity of the supposed sightings, we did not witness the so called Beast of Brecon ourselves.

Meanwhile, as Hector prowled the banks of the beautiful River Usk, several sticks threw themselves despairingly into the water in the vain hope of avoiding his nefarious canine machinations.

But to no avail, as the big hearted hound endeavoured to save every one of them from their aqueous end by diving in to rescue them.

Which was nice.

May 6th

A rhino with a Labrador,
You surely would not cross
Cos if you did, you’d end up with
A fierce Hectoseros

May 7th

I have long believed that Hector would make a useless guard dog – but now I know it for sure.

Because yesterday, having been employed as one by the Brecon Mountain Railway, as well as failing to check my ticket, he insisted that, according to his supposedly extensive knowledge of the 1993 Railways Act, my apparent crime of rewarding him with only half a dog treat, left him with no other option but to call the British Transport Police and have me thrown off the train.

My protestations fell on deaf ears as the train pulled out of the station and I was left with a two hour hike back to where we’d left the car.

I managed to console myself however with the knowledge that, unbeknownst to Hector, I had the car keys – until that is, on reaching the now vacated parking space, I remembered he had his own set!

I’m glad he found it funny!

May 10th

So it seems that you can spend too long in a bookshop after all!

May 14th

Does he like butter? Yes of course he does! And as it turns out, he likes buttercups too!

May 23rd

I’m not saying he’s stupid but…

Every morning when I walk Hector, I open the garden gate and allow him to walk off the lead to the back of the car where he waits patiently for me to open the boot.

But the morning after the night before, when I parked the car the other way round, he showed me just how intelligent he really is by walking to the front of the car and waiting patiently for me to open the bonnet!

Doh!

May 24

Sometimes I worry about myself.

These days it takes me longer to clean the kitchen floor than it once did. Because now, as well as it getting somehow dirtier than it used to, when I’m on my hands and knees, and attending to the filthy surface, I am invariably accosted by a big black hairy thing that seems to think his clambering all over me will prove helpful.

Which it doesn’t.

And then there are the unaccountable, and not infrequent, disappearances of the scrubbing brush.

And therein lies the principle cause of my concern – because this weekend, it wasn’t until I’d searched for it in countless other places, that I eventually found it where I should obviously have looked first!

May 26th

Problems encountered when the grandchildren come to stay – Number 275

GWR* services were temporarily disrupted today on account of what Network Rail blamed on ‘the wrong kind of Labrador’

*Great Wellington Railway

May 31st

At the summit of Crook Peak, an aptly named hill to find himself atop, Hector is alarmed to discover that his tongue has outgrown his mouth!

June 5th

Nearly two years on, the Batdog™ returns – only with bigger teeth!

June 13th

Sisyphus had it easy. He only had to roll a huge boulder endlessly up a steep hill, whereas I’m tasked with getting a tennis ball out of a black Labrador’s mouth!

June 16th

When you’ve forgotten what ‘get in the car’ means…

June 22nd

As you can see, Hector’s pretty excited.

That’s because today, at the start of the South West Coast Path in Minehead, the salty old sea dog had a brilliant idea – to walk the 630 mile route to Poole, write a best selling account of his exploits, and then sell the film rights to the highest bidder.

He says he can’t understand why somebody hasn’t thought to do it before!

ne 28th

He celebrates a birthday,
Today he’s two years old,
That big, black, beast called Hector,
Who won’t do what he’s told.
So will he now, I wonder,
A grown up dog, play ball,
Desist from doing what he does,
And come each time I call.

Or will he still continue,
As I suspect he might,
To do the things he’s prone to,
That cause him such delight?
Consuming what he shouldn’t,
And drooling ere he feeds,
Whilst plotting as he does so,
Dim dark disturbing deeds.

The gooseberries he’s gobbled,
Rhubarb remains at risk,
Like Pavlov’s dogs, he can’t resist,
His reflexes are brisk.
But in the scorching sunshine,
This canine cat keeps cool,
With jam packed gut he ruminates,
On fruity, flavoured, fool.

A furry, fiendish fellow,
He daily causes grief,
Some ask me why I love him,
It beggars their belief.
But though he is a monster,
With very little brain,
His driving me around the bend,
Is all that keeps me sane!

‘Cos as we walk together,
Along life’s shady paths,
Each day it’s surely safe to say,
He brings me lots of laughs.
So Happy Birthday Hector,
You goofy, gorgeous, goon,
I hope you have a smashing time,
This twenty-eighth of June!

June 30th

Confirming the truth of what the great philosopher Noel Coward once said – that it’s not just Englishman who go out in the midday sun!

2nd July

Being the excitable fellow he is, I have often had cause to tell Hector that he doesn’t know when to stop.

It seems, however, that I was wrong.

Because today, having familiarised himself with the time it takes for a vehicle to become stationary, when its brakes are applied at varying speeds and in differing weather conditions, he has finally passed his theory test and is now insisting that I give him driving lessons!

July 3rd

He’s stuck on 8 Across:
Trojan hero heard to criticise verbally(6)

Any ideas anyone?

July 4th

Today Hector starred in an advert for an exciting new shampoo that promises to invigorate even the most lacklustre head of hair.

So if as you’re showering, you too find yourself longing for a scalp covering as thick and luxuriant as his, do as Hector does, and never settle for anything less than this l-absolutely fabulous product.

Because it’s not called Hairy Beast™ for nothing.

July 7th

Less cumbersome than those employed by the world’s first flying elephant, Hector today donned his own, self-styled, state of the art, micro-auricular, flight enablers and took off from Foel Wryr for a spectacular airborne tour of the Preseli Hills.

Said one stunned observer of Hector’s ariel adventure, ‘I’ve been, done, seen about everything, now I’ve seen a Labrador fly!’

July 8th

THE PINCH OF SALT PATH

Today, I thought I’d write an account of the life affirming walk I took along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path – one that is every bit as true as the plethora of similar narratives that are so in vogue at present.

But before I do, you need to understand the circumstances under which I embarked on my trek. Firstly I was somewhat strapped for cash, the state of my finances all the more perilous for want of the 40p I was charged to use the public conveniences, and secondly, I’d just been diagnosed with terminal hay fever.

But desperate though my plight was, these were challenges that prompted me to don my walking boots and start my epic journey – one that I very much hoped would result in my finding myself.

Which I did, not long after, in Saundersfoot, the town where I’d decided to commence my hike.

But no sooner had I alighted from the bus that had taken me there, I suffered one of my blackouts. For what other explanation could there be, for why one second I was biting into an individually wrapped biscotti covered caramel flavoured sponge cake, and the next I was staring at the floor where Hector was devouring what little now remained of it?

After which, things went from bad to worse when I and my canine companion were accosted by an octogenarian member of the Pontypool Women’s Institute, who forced us to give up the bench which we’d just been about to vacate, by fiendishly appearing to be a thoroughly delightful individual who wished only to engage us in friendly conversation.

Despite such an unsettling start to the day, we nonetheless made our way to the seafront and started along the coastal path to Tenby. Soon we were strolling along, high above the beach and I noticed a black Labrador, not dissimilar in appearance to Hector, splashing happily in the waves. Eager to point out the fun his double was having, I looked around to see where Hector was – only to realise that it was he who was now wreaking havoc two hundred yards away to my left. Amazingly though, having called the hapless hound, he responded immediately, and made his way back to me, choosing a route that involved him clambering over rocks and leaping off one that must have been at least eight feet high.

Unscathed he rejoined me on the footpath and we continued on our way. After walking what seemed like days, but was in fact just an hour and a quarter, we stumbled upon a private beach where, mistaken for John Noakes and Shep, we were invited to join the celebrities who were relaxing there. And so we spent a pleasant hour playing French cricket with Bryn Terfel, the Andrews Sisters, and the Marquis de Carabas.

After experiencing such a high, it was perhaps inevitable that I would soon come crashing back to earth. And so it was, at the foot of an exceptional steep hill which seemed to stretch endlessly up to the heavens, I began to ask myself life’s biggest questions – the greatest of all being why so many passers-by seemed drawn to comment on how handsome Hector was, whilst so few seemed inclined to comment similarly regarding my own facial appearance.

Managing somehow to put such concerns to one side, we managed to struggle on until eventually Ye Olde Vape Shop came into view, the establishment famously frequented by Henry VII when he visited Tenby back in the 1400s, marking the end of our walk

And so we reached our journey’s end – tired but somehow better for what, man and dog, we’d experienced together.

And amazingly, I’d not sneezed once.

July 9th

Continuing our Welsh adventure, today we set off early for Whitesands Bay only to find that the authorities had got wind of Hector’s arrival and imposed a blanket ban on all dogs from setting foot on the beach. But no matter, we went for a walk around St David’s head and Hector enjoyed frolicking in the waves at Porthmelgan

The afternoon saw us in St David’s hoping to see the world’s first Welsh Bible that is currently on display in the cathedral there. Sadly, despite desperately wanting to see the ancient tome himself, Hector wasn’t allowed into the building and, when we asked why, we were simply told that ‘that would be an ecumenical matter!’

We ended the day at Newgale where, unlike those who pay good money to swim with dolphins, I got to swim with a Labrador for free.

I know that you’ll be disappointed that no footage exists of me striding across the beach in my wetsuit, complete with ‘Atom’ emblazoned across my chest like some modern day superhero…but unfortunately I’d left my camera in the car.

So you’ll have to make do with Hector belly flopping/swimming yesterday at Tenby instead!

July 28th

Given how disappointed he was not to have travelled to Poland with me these past 10 days, it was sweet of Hector to spend our time apart learning the language so as to be able to greet me on my return today with an immaculately pronounced ‘Cześć’

So it’s a pity I forgot the Pierogi Ruskie I had promised to bring back for him. 

‘Przepraszam Hectorze!’

July 30th

But, lo! What lies on yonder grassy bank?
It is the beast, and Hector is his name.
Arise, fair hound, and crunch thy heinous stick.
That is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou its foe art far more dark than it.
He is my canine, O, he is my dog!
O, that he knew he were!
He barks, yet he says nothing: what of that?
His tail keeps wagging, I will answer it.
But disregarding me he goes his way,
And careth not the things I daily say.
See how he lies his back upon the ground
His legs each one now stretching all around
O that he would come when bidest I
And never deign to ask the reason why.

August 1st

Once a hardened corn on the cob addict, Hector had done well to give up his twenty a day habit. But this afternoon, whilst walking through a field of maize, the temptation proved too much!

TO BE CONTINUED…
probably!

August 20th

Before and after the Valium…

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Other dog related blogs:

Now that this post appears too long to make further additions, to read ‘Hector’s Year – 2025’, click here

To read ‘A Farewell to Barns’, with an exclusive performance of Barney’s recently discovered Christmas hit, click here

To read ‘Dr Dog’, click here

To raw ‘A not so shaggy dog story’, click here

To read ‘On approaching one’s sell by date’ click here

To read ‘Scooby Doo and the Deserted Medical Centre’, click here

To read ‘Scooby Doo and the Mystery of the Deseted Cricket Ground’, click here