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 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!
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 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!
August 20th
Before and after the Valium…
August 24th
I’m not saying he’s stupid but, he was crying to be let out of the shed because he didn’t have the wherewithal to push the door open any wider than it already was!
30th October
He’s embarrassed because he did something good!
14th November
Not sure whether it was the rain, or the prospect of seeing the vet, but for one reason or another, Hector wasn’t keen on getting out of the car!
17th November
The nights are getting longer and
The days are growing cold,
And dogs they like to be kept warm,
Or so I’m often told,
By one, who in his thick black coat,
As this pic indicates,
Loves to laze, and spend his days,
Where heat now radiates.
10th December
LOST AND FOUND
[ODE TO THE ONE WITH A NOSE FOR ROTTEN APPLES]
Hector is from Somerset,
As some of you will know,
And so when he goes missing,
There’s just one place I go,
To find the dog, it must be said,
Who’s not the world’s best hider,
‘Cos he’ll be found, where on the ground,
Lie apples fit for cider!
But now that he is safely home,
And not at least perturbed
Despite the fact that he has had
His morning nap disturbed
He stares at me and then adopts
A look that’s quite pathetic
His lame attempt, I guess that’s meant
To look apologetic!
19th December
Maybe it’s because I’m not Hugh Bonneville, and I don’t live in Downton Abbey, but can anyone explain to me this…
Why is it that, in those glossy magazines that showcase the homes of the rich and famous, whilst a black Labrador may well make an appearance in their perfect kitchens, the floors of them are never ever strewn with muddy towels?
Unlike mine, that almost always is!
24th December
‘Twas the night before Christmas and Hector decided,
He’d sleep on the sofa (so kindly provided),
And, as he dozed there, all the dreams in his head,
They focused on fine festive food he’d be fed
For inside a turkey, giblets can be found,
A feast fit for favoured black Labrador hounds,
Though, once they are eaten, there come consequences,
For those blessed with heightened olfactory senses!
But as now his owners know only too well,
This canine companion he sometimes can smell,
But it is a problem at Christmas they handle,
By lighting a seasonal, sweet-scented candle.
Given how Hector, he can’t keep his eyes –
Off Christmas cake, chocolate and fruit-filled mince pies –
To visit the vet, he may ‘ere long insist,
Though he’s never been on his Christmas Card list.
The nights they are long now, they’re cold and they’re wet,
Much like his nose is – which it’s a fair bet,
Will lead him to places where he shouldn’t go,
And cause us to holler at him, ‘Hector – No!’
But whilst he’s asleep and is snoring away,
There’s just one more thing he would want me to say,
And that is to wish all the folk he holds dear,
A most Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
31st December
It isn’t only British-Egyptian dissidents who have been embarrassed this week by historic social media posts – for I too have been reminded of how it’s now three years since I foolishly expressed surprise that my wife considered me to have more in common with a pregnant kangaroo than Hollywood heartthrob, Tom Cruise.
Even so, astonishing though her claim may have been, all is now well since, as I’m sure you’re very aware, the average gestation of even those most parabolic of marsupials is no more than 38 days and so any ongoing increase in my girth can therefore only be attributed to one, or possibly three, too many mince pies over the festive period.
Which brings me, inevitably, to Christmas.
It was a largely quiet affair in the Aird household this year, with only the one unfortunate incident taking place. That said, the circumstances surrounding that occasion did risk a major diplomatic incident in our cul-de-sac. For it is with deep regret that I have to report that Hector recklessly invaded our neighbours airspace, not to mention kitchen, when his being let out of the back of the car coincided with the front door of the house in question being opened.
Thankfully I managed to persuade my boarder-breaching canine companion to retreat before his unwarranted incursion caused too much damage. It’s not the first time he’s violated long-held territory agreements and so, given the many other potential international conflicts I’ve avoided by curtailing his brazen behaviour over the last two years, I can’t help but feel I’d be a worthy winner of next year’s Nobel Peace Prize!
So here’s a picture of Hector taken whilst he was fully entering into the Christmas spirit. I just worry though that his wearing a crown has only encouraged his plans for global domination.
But irrespective of whether my efforts are recognised in the way they surely should be, or if I instead have to settle for the newly created ‘Winalot Award for making a Dog’s Dinner of De-escalation’, as 2025 totters towards the finishing line and 2026 anxiously awaits the starters gun, here’s wishing you all a very Happy New Year!
Other dog related blogs:
To read ‘The Hector Chronicles’, 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
Some musings 