Rumpole had his second evening at puppy school last night. Not a moment too soon. The hound did his impression of the Andrex dog as we prepared to head to school. Not satisfied with collecting thongs, socks, shoes, mobile phones and the lower branches of our trees - some times as well as but typically instead of his toys he last night took hold of the bog roll and headed for his pilow in the lounge. Too late to chastise him we could do nothing but laugh. The little bastard.
He was then, of course, an angel with the puppy master. He either took an agressive dislike or like one of the rattier pups at class and spent as much time as he could terrorising it. Ah well.
We learnt about BARF last night. New to me, it stands for Biologically Appropriate Raw Food (or something like that) and is one school of thought about what you should feed your dog. Common sense really; if a dog might naturally find and eat it then it's fine. So dry food is a bit crap, tinned food also crap. Basically, raw meat and the sort of stuff I'd typically put into the compost bin. And the occasional bit of yoghurt is OK. So he got the last scrapings of my breakfast yohgurt pot this morning. Which he was very happy about.
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