I have been a busy Pippadog.
At the holiday weekend we went back to Spain. It is a holiday here in Gibraltar although not for the same reason as in America. It is the late Spring Bank Holiday and was originally linked with Whitsuntide. Whatever that is.
So off we went in my Landy.
When we got to the Guardia Civil customs post to go into Spain, master slowed down and mistress held out our passports.
They didn’t look at our passports, but they obviously thought I was such an interesting dog that they wanted to have a poke around my Landy.
I should explain that cigarettes and spirits are much cheaper in Gibraltar than they are in Spain, but you can only take 200 cigarettes and one litre of spirits per person across the border (I think). Us dogs don’t get an allowance. Anyway as master and mistress don’t smoke and they drink beer and wine – which are cheaper in Spain – they never take anything across.
The Guardia Civil officers have stopped to sticky-beak through the windows before but we have never been pulled over and had to open the doors and things so I was very excited. Mistress wasn’t. She was very nervous.
The nice man came over and asked if I bite. Of course I don’t. So he stuck his hand through the window and ruffled my fur nicely. See, I knew it was all just a ploy to make friends with me. He looked on the floors at the front and then lifted the lid on master’s little box between the seats, but there was nothing of interest in there.
He asked master to open the back door and show him what was inside. Meanwhile mistress was holding onto me and I was trying to do boundaround. He told master to open a box and asked what was inside. Master said “Una máquina para comer,” in his basic Spanish. The officer looked a bit surprised as master had just told him it was a machine to eat. I was so laughing. I think master meant to say “Una máquina para preparar comida.”
Then he asked to look in master’s tool boxes. Master has lots of tools in case my Landy breaks down and we need to fix it. Well master would need to fix it while mistress and I supervised. He was impressed with master’s tools and asked if he was a mechanic. Master said no, but he needed to be able to repair my Landy, and that actually he was a painter.
I have to say I think at this point that the officer decided master was a crazy Englishman who ate machines and had more tools than a mobile mechanic. So he told us we could go.
An hour later mistress stopped shaking. Master and I thought she was stupid, master because he wasn’t carrying anything he shouldn’t have been, and me because I know it was all an excuse to spend some time admiring ME, Pippadog.
Then a bit later on we stopped for a break. At a nice bar. Here is a pic of me and master.
One of just me.
And then we arrived home at our finca. And I went back to my favourite spot at the gate.
And I lay on my sofa too.
I have lots of other things to write about (yummy cheese toasties today for example) and some tags that I am sooooo late with. But mistress tells me I am almost out of space.
So I want to finish with this. I have something nice to say about mistress. Earlier this year when Tasha and Eva sent me some yummy treats for my Gotcha Day, they sent me a photo of each of them. And now mistress has scanned them in so that I can put them on my blog.
I would have put the pic of Tasha on my last post but I wrote it from Spain and I don’t have a scanner there.
Here is Eva. In the last few days she has changed her behaviour, and you can read about it here on their blog – Tasha will be proud of you, Eva.
And here is lovely Tasha. Watching over all of us, especially Eva.