Raven has his own basket, not that he uses it often.  He prefers to sit on the window sill and preen himself while looking down on everyone.  In fact, Raven has no interest in lounging in his basket, unless someone else tries to lie in it.

Little puppy Lola who knows nothing of office politics, had no idea about the unwritten rule   “trespassers beware” of Raven’s basket.

Lola had been in the lunch room and someone had left the lid off the honey jar and Lola had got into it.  There was honey EVERYWHERE.

I could even see a little trail of honey paw marks leading toward Raven’s basket, so I followed them, only to discover Lola,  coated in honey and lying in Raven’s bed.  She was licking madly trying to get the honey  off herself.

As I stood and assessed the mess, Raven stomped in.  He was furious to see Lola in his bed.  The look on Raven’s face said it all.  Poor wee Lola took one glance at him and took off with her tail between her legs.

Much to my surprise, Raven, with superior face and tail in the air, stepped straight into his basket.  I did not have a chance to warn him about the honey.  And now it was too late, so I scuttled off to hide and to wait for the moment Raven realized exactly what he was sitting in.

I had just  got around the corner when I heard the screech.

I peeped back at Raven and I could see Mrs T leaning over Raven and shaking her head as she said “Raven you silly cat, what have you got yourself into?” Raven was fuming.  He had globs of honey stuck on his fur and he was snarling and looking in my direction as he squirmed about while Mrs T tried to wipe it off him.

I know it is not nice to laugh at others misfortune, but Raven’s sticky situation did bring a very sweet smile to my face.  One as sweet as honey!

Woof!

If there is one thing Raven cannot claim, it’s that he’s Irish!!

But I can, for I am a dog of strong Irish heritage!  And a dog that is so looking forward to St Pats day.

Only the Irish would be smart enough to name a Saint for patting dogs.

I was excitedly telling Tabby all about St Pat’s day, the leprechauns, shillelaghs and the luck of the Irish, when I saw Sparky waving his paw at me, signalling me over to him.

It was a very inconvenient time to have to talk to Sparky as I was right in the middle of telling my Irish tales.  I had even noticed Raven leaning his ear in to listen to the stories about the leprechauns.  That said, with Raven you would never know if he was listening out of interest, or because the talk of little green men sounded like something he could chase.

Anyway, I went off to see what Sparky wanted.

“Sam, Sam, Sam”  he said.   “why on earth would you think St Pats day was about patting dogs? - St Pats day is just a short way of saying St Patricks day – and it has nothing at all  to do with patting any dogs”

Boy was I deflated.  I had always thought  the day belonged to dogs.

As I slunk to the floor, I could feel the lucky  shamrocks I was wearing on my head start to wilt.

Sparky looked at me sadly, “oh dear” he said, thinking quickly.  “I  didn’t say that right, what I  meant to say was - the day has nothing to with patting any dogs that are not IRISH dogs”

“So top o the mornin to ya Sam - hope you have a happy St Pats day”

That put the bounce back in my step and got my Irish eyes smiling as I set off with a paddy’s jig to get my pats for the day and join in on the Rachael Hale® office festivities.

And in Irish 'Bidh cù ag ràdh uf, uf, uf'  (the dog says woof woof woof)

Tabby was telling me that she paws a column about helping pets with their problems.  It’s called “Dear Tabby”.                                                                  

I was interested to know what sort of problems pets had, and she told me that one of the things pets have trouble with is writing their resumes.

Resumes?  For what?  I asked

Well, said Tabby, some pets like to make applications for jobs.  Like dogs who want to join the Police and Armed forces, or those who want to become seeing-eye Guide Dogs.  Not to mention, she said,  all those cats who want to formalise their princess status by getting a job in a castle!

It got me thinking about what my resume would say about me.  So, I had a go at putting something together.  I think mine is quite impressive.
And then, I had some fun writing Ravens...
Woof!

Sparky reads encyclopaedias online and from time to time he discovers some really interesting topics which he tells Raven and I about.  A lot of it we don’t understand, even though Raven pretends he does by purring in a knowledgeable fashion as he listens to Sparky talk.

Well this week, Sparky was talking about the importance of conserving energy, and believe me I am all for that.  The less running I have to do, the happier I am.  But Sparky laughed at me when I said that, as apparently it has nothing to do with that sort of energy.

Then he began talking about carbon footprints and being green.  But I have to say, I have never seen a green dog, or cat for that matter, and to be honest, if my footprints appear anywhere, Mr T gets very cross and wipes them off immediately.

Sparky also said we should cut our power use and be environmentally friendly.

Well, I am already a very friendly dog, so it must have been Raven the superior cat that he was referring to when he mentioned the need to become friendlier.

As to the cutting power use suggestion, I think I know what he means when he says that.  Because, I was at my grandmothers house the other day and she was telling me about the sixties, flower power and being free.  So I guess Sparky is saying that we should stop using electricity, and go back to flower power.

That  makes good sense to me, flowers are bright and they light up the world, and if flower power is free, then there will be no more power bills to pay and then there would be  much more money to buy doggy BONES !

Go flower power!!

Woof!