Holiday Cheese

Clank's Report:

We had a really great day today. The Moms climbed up in the attic and got down a whole bunch of boxes and bags and stuff. Ratchet & I ran all over the back yard and played chase and roll the Corgi.

By the time we got back in the house, there was neat tissue paper to play with and all kinds of stuff to sniff in the boxes. Ratchet told me he thought maybe it had something to do with Santy-Paws. I asked him who that was but he just rolled his eyes. Ratchet told me I'd find out when I open my stocking on Christmas morning. Then he snickered.

Then Mommy Annie put this really goofy thing around my neck that Ratchet said made me look like a court jester. It didn't fit too good, so that came off. They tried putting some reindeer antlers on Ratchet, but he kept trying to rub them off his head.

Things really started looking up when the Moms put on our Christmas neckerchiefs (that's what Ratchet calls them). They had us sit on our dog bed in front of the fireplace and took a whole bunch of pictures. Of course, there's no way we would have sat still for that long without....wait for it...CHEESE!

Everytime we sat still and looked nice for the camera, we each got a piece of string cheese. We were all set to sit still for the rest of the afternoon, but Mommy Shar said she got a couple good ones, and that was that.

I'm sorry they stopped giving us cheese, but I do like the picture. The only thing I still wonder about is this Santy-Paws guy. It must be something good, 'cause Ratchet is looking up at that stocking hanging on the mantel and he keeps smiling. Guess I'll just have to wait & see.

A History Lesson for Young Corgis

Ratchet’s report:

As you know, I’m trying to raise the kid up right (no small job, let me tell you), and I discovered a gap in his knowledge of the proud history of Cardigans. I’ve rectified that, but it occurred to me that there may be other Cardies out there suffering from the dis-information campaign of the dreaded Pembroke Corgi committee.

These guys have been swaggering around saying they are the Queen’s dogs because the Hanoverian took a fancy to the tailless little munchkins. Let me set the record straight, children, because we Cardies know who the real Queen’s dogs are. And we know which Queen we’re talking about, don’t we? Yeah, that’s right. Her eternal majesty, the magnificent Queen Mabh of the Fairies.

We aren’t just farm dogs, we’re a gift from the Fair Folk to the Welsh people. And here is the story.

Long, long ago, Queen Mabh and her retinue took a ride through the forest on their royal steeds. The mighty fairy dogs were the perfect steeds for the Fair Folk: low-slung to make it easy for the fairies to mount them; intelligent, kind and gentle so even the fairy children could ride them without fear; and brave and strong so they could carry their passengers far and away, and protect them from any danger. There was only one thing that could threaten both the Fair Folk and their steadfast mounts – cold iron.

Thus it was that one of the Queen’s favorite retainers and his enchanted dog ran afoul of a poacher’s trap, which laid them low. Now none of the other Fair Folk could approach the injured rider and dog because of the presence of the iron trap. Queen Mabh was distraught, but she did not know what she could do to save them.

A young girl and boy were wandering in the woods and they had hidden in the bushes to watch the ride of the Fairies. They were afraid to say anything because they had heard many stories of changelings and mysterious magics of the Fey, but they couldn’t let the poor fairy and his beautiful mount die. The boy spoke up and offered to help.

Queen Mabh was suspicious, and demanded to know what mischievous intent brought them into the forest at night. The girl explained that they had been sent by their father to rescue their prize ewe, who had wandered off from their small farm. Without her, their family would surely starve. The Queen told them to help her friends and she would give them a royal reward.

The boy pulled the cruel trap away from the rider and his steed, disabling it and throwing it into the bushes. The girl used some herbs to bind their injuries so they would heal quickly.

Queen Mabh was well pleased and made good on her promise to them. Ringing the golden bell that adorned her dog’s harness, she sprinkled Fairy dust and two beautiful puppies appeared. They bowed to the Queen and then ran to the boy and girl, looking up at them with their intelligent, attentive dark eyes.

“This gift I make for you and all your kin. These fairy dogs will protect you and yours, herd your cattle and sheep, and bring you laughter and love for they are the kindest and most loving dogs in the world.” Then Queen Mabh and her retinue gathered up their injured friends and rode off through the forest.

The farmer and his family raised the dogs and prospered. All the Cardigan Corgis come from those two fairy dogs. The Cardigan Corgi can trace its history back 3,000 years to the time of the most Ancient Celts (sorry, Pembrokes, but you guys only date back 1,000 years).

And you can tell this story is true because Cardigans show the fairy saddles and harnesses in their coats. Check it out – I’m not kidding! And every so often, if you go outside at night, you’ll hear that jingling bell to let you know the Fairies are near and want to go for a ride. If you play your cards right you might just get to romp with Queen Mabh and her crew.

So, go forth with pride, young Cardies. You are truly the Queen’s dogs.

No Balls on Thanksgiving

Ratchet’s report:

We had a great Turkey Day last week. There was a nice walk and good smells all day, and then we had a really good dinner. Me and the kid had some turkey and stuffing on top of our kibble. Yummy!

We all gave thanks for the many blessings of the year, including the arrival of my little brother. I hate to say it, but I guess I am grateful for him, too. He really cheered me up after my big brother Jive went to the Rainbow Bridge.

But I gotta admit I’m really thankful that they got rid of that ball of his. We’ve gotten back to all our usual games and romps, except when the Moms get all fractious at us because he’s supposed to keep quiet because he’s still healing. Judging from the speed he races up and down the hallway, I’d sure hate to see what he’d do if he wasn’t convalescing. The kid is going to break the sound barrier any day now.

So, I’m pleased to report that everything’s back to normal now that the aberration of the ball has been taken care of. And this morning, we each got a treat from a dog Advent calendar, which is some sort of cardboard thingy with treats hidden behind little doors. Cool, huh?

Clank was hoping it was going to last all year, but I explained it’s only until Christmas. Then the kid asked me what Christmas is and I really had to laugh. He’s in for a big surprise in a few weeks.

His latest insanity is that he’s sending a picture of his butt to the Toreth blog (that’s his breeder), challenging his siblings to an exchange of fanny pictures. He claims he has a really cute butt, but I think he’s just compensating for not being able to sniff their butts like a proper Welsh gentleman.