SAM

The Buskers Dog

Tales of a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel,

his family, and friends
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by Dawn Fallon
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Copyright (c) Dawn Fallon 2014

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The right of Dawn Fallon to be identified as the author
of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance
with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Acts 1988.

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced by way of trade or otherwise, or be circulated in
any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise,
without the authors permission.

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Some of the characters in the book are fictional

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PREFACE

In 2011 my husband started busking with his accordion, and one

day he took our dog Sam along and discovered the dog was far
more popular than he was!
He suggested I write a book about
some of his busking adventures - particularly as a book had been
written called A Street Cat Named Bob by London busker James
Bowen. So I began to compile this short, light-hearted story.

The book is slightly unusual in that it uses emoticons and can also
be inter-active with occasional links to YouTube and Facebook
should the reader so desire to click on the links.

The story is written in the dogs voice, and in mainly lower case
letters (with just a few capital letters for proper names and
emphasis). This is deliberate, and it is how the story came to me
when I started to write it in the dogs voice. There are also a
couple deliberate spelling mistakes, plus a few deliberate
grammatical errors.

The book also uses personal photos of other Cavaliers (with their
owners permission) to add some variety to the illustrations, and
demonstrate the amazing versatility of this fabulous breed of
dog.

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There is a Sam - The Buskers Dog Facebook Page should

readers wish to see more photos.

The book has been great fun to write: to try and see the world
through the eyes of a dog has been an interesting journey! I hope
that readers will stick with it and maybe find within it some
humorous moments, and maybe a mirror to themselves through
the lens of our canine friends.

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Acknowledgements

My grateful thanks are extended to my husband, Don, who encouraged me to write this book about
his busking adventures with our beloved dog Sammy, and to all the people who invested time and
interest in Sammy. I also thank the owners of the other dogs (and cats) below who feature in this
book and for their kind permission to use their very personal photos of their fur babes. They are
the rightful owners of the photos they have shared in this book.

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A BIG thank you to the following owners and their dogs in order of appearance !
Chapter 1
Lynn Bolton - FARLEY
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Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Christina Grimaldi - OLIVER & SYDNEY

Celia Thompson - ITAN
Lene Roters - BERNIE
Nat Thomas - BRUCE
Kathryn Baldwin - BUDDY
Victoria Cope - PRINCE
Louise Dibble - DEXTER
Kylie Barbour - BUFFY
Grace Ann Catindig - LUCY
Michele Dorais-Hood - QUIGLI
Charlotte Linton - ROSIE & COCO
Emma Ward - LILLY
Brenda Randle - RIA
Catharine Hodges - BRAMBLE
Gemma Clowes - ALFIE
Lynn Bolton - BENTLEY
Philippa Leak - OLLIE
Lucy Dawson - HENRY
Michelle Godkin List - CHARLEY
Paulina Klimek - PACIFIC
Efi Skantzi - MISS NELLY
Samantha Lawford - TERENCE
Tmas Sigursson - OLIVER
Christine Grimaldi - SYDNEY
Dawn Lancaster - JAZZ
Inge Myburgh - ABBA MARCHANT
Elizabeth Palethorpe - JET

Robert Hepworth - RIO

Gary Young - KACEE
Charlotte Linton - ROSIE
Heather Lemmons - MISS CHARLOTTE
Linda Elle - SOPHIE
Paula Robinson - POPPY

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Fionnuala Toland - KOKO

Meryl Walker - Sleeping Puppies
Elizabeth Dupree - HARRY
Christina Grimaldi - OLIVER
Vanessa Comens - OLLIE
Martine van Laere - CHARLIE & BOLLIE (the cat)
Kimberly Thompson - SPENCER & FREYA (the cat)
Erin Marconi - OLIVER & BUBBLES (the kitten)
Lori Tobis - Two dogs, two cats on table
Francesca Tosi - BYRON & FIORDA (the cat)
Mary Fraser - OPAL and SIMONE (the cat)

Chapter 9

Paula McGarry - NAISHA

Hayley Darby - HOLLY & JESS

Chapter 13

Lorna J Fulton - JASPER

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Chapter 15
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Chapter 18

Sylvia Mellor - POPPY

Lisa Garner - LUCY The Rescue Cavalier, and LADY

My grateful thanks also to Szilvia Somogyi for her permission to use her superb drawing of a Cavalier
running with ears flapping in Chapter 13

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glossary
tod =

kip =

alone/on my own

sleep

rum do = odd, or strange

grub = food

grinsard = the grass verge (of unknown origin - possibly from the
old English word greensward - meaning turf)

ow are ee angin my ansome = a Cornish greeting between

men: How are you hanging my handsome? (referring to male
genitalia) meaning How are you?

rainbow bridge / the bridge = a euphemism for the place where

dogs pass on to after death.

lugholes = ears

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contents
1 - about me, the cavalier king

2 - on the streets

3 - cavalier kingship

4 - my loves and my hates:

wetness - pooping and piddling - food

5 - brass tacks of busking

6 - more loves and hates:

7 - sleeping on the job

8 - cats

9 - humans and dogs

10 - street talk

11 - holidays

12 - grooming

13 - names and things

14 - crissmas

15 - cavalier quirks

16 - human quirks

17 - more loves and hates

18 - grand finale

walkies - sleeping

1 - about me, the cavalier king

greetings, lords and ladies. my name is sam and i am a royal dog.

indeed, i am a king. and not just any old king - i am a cavalier king
(though who charles spaniel was, i have no idea - i have never met
him and neither have my family).

i am very regal as you can see in this picture. well of course i am, i
have royal blood in my veins

His Royal Highness Samuel Fallamhin

every owner of a cavalier king has a photo like that. its in the
breed you see.
we even look royal - its not just our dignified
demeanour:

~ Farley ~

we are exceptionally pretty dogs, and add to that our delectable

personality and exquisite deportment, we are a winning
combination intoxicating our owners with intense tickles in their
tummies. these tickles then soar from their tummies into their
hands which cuddle us and fondle our silky ears - and we like it.
well, of course we do

i was such a cute baby that my mistress took lots of pictures of

me - i am even on facebook, i am so famous.

here i am as a wee pup. i am posing my best cavalier king pose at

the tender age of three months:

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and if charles spaniel (whoever he is) could see that picture, he

would be very proud of my delightful royal-ness at such a young
age. even my wee freckles are turning into marvellous spots:

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my master tells everyone i am a certain type of cavalier king - a

blenheim no less. and because i am a blenheim i have free entry to
blenheim palace whenever i want. so that makes it official - i am
in line to the throne.

and according to my pedigree, my grandmother was a noble dam

called blenheim countess:

so i am definitely an aristocrat - even though my mistress tells

everyone i was cheap at 350. i mean, whats in a price tag when i
am so splendidly gorgeous and exceedingly magnificent?

on a human level though i am not sure whether i am a sam called

dog - or a dog called sam, but it doesnt matter, i respond to both
names. if my mistress says to me: off-dog! - i move off the sofa
quick, because i know that someone is going to sit in my spot,
which means i can then jump back up and sit on top of them, and
get cuddles.

for, as everyone knows - even wikipedia agrees - it is a well known

documented fact that cavalier kings are affectionate dogs evidenced by our insatiable desire to be hugged, stroked, kissed,
cuddled, pampered, patted and petted.

and i certainly am hugged, stroked, kissed, cuddled, patted and

petted by all kinds of people when i go out on the streets with my
master. so enough about me, i will now tell you a bit about my
master and busking, but first i thought you might like to see this
cavalier king wordle:

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2 - on the streets

they say that owners look like their dogs. but that doesnt apply
in my case.

i am a very beautiful dog, incredibly imperial and rather stunning

and my master doesnt look like me at all - especially when he
wears a funny cloth thing on his head and two dark things over his
eyes. he looks rather comical, and i am not comical at all i am a
classy canine creature. even in my coat.

in fact, i am so handsome that my master was once asked by a lady

in the street who stopped to listen to his music if i would be a
stud dog. she offered my master 750 if i could make her
cavalier bitch pregnant. my owner had to decline saying she was
eight years too late

i am far more popular on the streets than my master, and people

find me totally irresistible. but we do share one thing in common,
my master and i, and that is middle age. we are both approaching
the last lap of life, but that doesnt stop us getting out on the
streets.

now a bit about my master: don - or donald (although he doesnt

like being called donald).

he plays a machine which he has to work hard to push in and out,

called an accordion, and a very loud sound comes out of it. when
my owner is pumping his machine in the streets, people come and
throw metal to him and he gives some it to a charity because i am
therapy dog.

now my master likes to do things proper and so he was keen to get

his buskers badge to show he is a bona fide street musician. this
means he will move on if asked to by shop owners and be polite and
obliging. and it also gives him an identity, because all humans have
to have identities. otherwise they shrink inside and do not know
who they are.

in addition to the machine which he has to pump, he also sits in

another machine called a wheelchair. its electric and i am
trained to heel with it. when the wheels go, so do i. i say trained,
but in reality you cant train a cavalier king to do anything (unless
you bribe us with food, or we choose to do it). so the truth is i am
being accommodating of a human quirk to travel in tandem with

moving wheels because i choose to. sometimes though, i choose

not to. especially if we are going up a hill. then my master has to
ask a passer-by to lift me onto his lap, and i get a ride.

my master doesnt always go out on the streets, but when he does

i know it from early on because the trolley comes out. the trolley
signals that we are going for a day out on the streets and i get
quite nervously excited with anticipation, but a little tense in case
he forgets me, so i make my presence known by getting under my
mistresss feet so that she puts my lead and vest on so i am ready.
i wear a bright yellow vest because my master can then get into
coffee shops with me when he takes a break because i am a
therapy dog.

the excitement starts with a bus ride to paignton, brixham or

dartmouth or sometimes torquay. sometimes there is no room on
the bus for my master because pushchairs are the disabled spot,
and we have to wait for another bus. when we can get on the bus,
my master has a real struggle with his trolley and has to trouble
the bus driver to get the lift down for his wheelchair. i get on
the bus as quick as i can and i go sniffing in peoples bags because
my owner has to let go of my lead. i like being liberated. i also
get stroked behind my ears quite a bit while i do this by the
passengers

my master gives me a new and special name on the bus: he calls

me Liability. this is because i am such a clever dog and insist on
going to get strokes from people on both sides of the bus and get

my lead all tangled, and people who want to get off the bus play a
funny game of trying to step over my lead.

peoples bags are so interesting because the smells are

splendiferous. especially if there is food in them. i get told off if
i sniff in peoples bags, but i just cant help it. of course i cant,
the smell goes to my tummy where my juices are.

sometimes my master is a bit of a clown on the bus, but the people

like it. especially when he wears a silly red hat and white beard
pretending hes father crissmas

once he got out his flashing whistle which he started to blow - it

was also a torch and everyone on the bus thought he was potty as
he flashed and blowed it, but it gave the people tickles in their
tummies and it made them laugh.

when we get off the bus, my master chooses a suitable place to

play, and he puts out my rug and water. then he sets himself up
and pumps his machine. i get many strokes and loves because i am
such a cute pooch. i lap it up. well of course i do, it makes me feel
good.

one day when we were out in paignton my master decided to move

to a different spot where all the holiday-makers were. so he
packed up all his stuff and we headed toward the sea. but the
wheels of his trolley suddenly stopped going round and were stuck

in some metal tracks, and when the trolley got stuck, so did i
because my master was also stuck we were all stuck.

then a loud sound came into my ears dee dah dee dah dee dah
dee dah - and my master started shouting help! help! very loudly.
then a lady scooped me up in her arms, leaving my master behind
shouting even more loudly, until some men helped him just as a red
and white barrier came down and almost hit my masters head.

after that we went into a nice coffee shop where i was given a
biscuit, and my master recovered with a good strong coffee.
whenever i smell coffee i know there are biscuits.

that day was a bad day though. when we came out of the coffee
shop i started to get wet with rain. i do not like getting wet. so i
had a good shake, piddled on a wet paper bag, and we made for
home early.

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3 - cavalier kingship

now, back to us cavalier kings. we are such flamboyant dogs that

we love being dressed up in dolls clothes, sunglasses, fancy dress,
hats, spats and other props. and we lap it up when children use us
as toys (well we are toy dogs). that's how incomparably amazing
we are.

and we do not object when were used as a prop for football

supporters. this is because we are not interested in football
whatsoever, but rather because we are phenomenal posers without
having a scrap of magnanimous ego

mind you, often its not the children who dress us up. its usually
the adults - but dont tell anyone otherwise they will feel
embarrassed.

we love being bright young things sporting many kinds of fancy

dress. due to our placid nature and love of attention, we love being
dressed up. you can see us sporting all sorts of garb and getups
on cavalier facebook pages and groups looking absolutely charming.

oliver and sydney are therapy dogs in new york. they model all
kinds of outfits for the kids they help and the old folks they visit.
theyd make it it big in new york city as models if there was a cat
walk for dogs dont you think?

~ Oliver & Sydney ~

you can read all about their marvellous work on their Oliver and
Sydney Therapy Dogs facebook page. we make excellent therapy
dogs because of our sweet and gentle nature.

i mean, whatever would charles spaniel have made of the fact that
cavalier kings would be so marvellous at social media and
networking having our very own facebook pages, facebook groups,
youtube channels and can be followed on twitter?
hed be
absolutely amazed at our fame and how utterly compelling we are.
and a few of us even have instagram accounts with amazing photos
such as Prince.

and every dog owner has to do it: that is, put a pair of sunglasses
on us to see how spectacular we look.
sunglasses instantly
transform our royal appearance into transcendental film-star
status:

~ Itan ~

now, generally speaking cavalier kings are not rampage dogs like
some breeds (which shall remain nameless) nor are we those sorts
of dog which wreck furniture, carpets, shoes and mobile phones.
oh no, we are polite. the only place we run rampage is your hearts.
and maybe a bit of grass.

though some of us might wreck a raw carrot ~

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or wreck the post ~

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~ Bruce ~

but thats how unequalable we are.

and i have to confess i did wreck the rubbish bag once during the
night, but i just couldnt help myself as there was grub in it.

my mistress had a bit of a shock when she got up next morning.

but despite waking up to rubbish scattered all over the hall, my

mistress says she never knew she could be so in love with a breed
of dog. but she is - i am such a marvellous specimen that i have
converted her to cavalier kingship in the world of dogdom.

so now, according to my mistress (and her subjective view of the

canine cosmos) cavalier kings are just *THE* most adorable dog
ever.
which i shall take as a compliment to my prodigious charm
and pulchritude.

now, i do not normally talk in capitals - i am a lower case dog,

despite my royal connections. so when i do use capitals, YOU
KNOW I MEAN IT.

you see, i am either a totally lower case dog or a totally upper

case dog. i'm not in between like humans are. you know exactly
where you are with me - i have no double-mindedness, and like all
dogs, i never play mind games. thats why were so utterly
unparalleled.

however, cavalier kings are very keen to be accommodating, so i

occasionally mix my capitals with my lower cases to keep people
like my mistress happy because she is a grammar pedant. and so i
will occasionally (just occasionally) oblige by mixing capitals and
lowercase letters for the odd Proper Name, or sometimes for
Emphasis.

i call her my mistress out of respect of course, but really she is

my mom.

she is also my butler, footman, valet, cook and poop-scooper all

rolled into one. she attends to my every need. my mistress is what
i call mindful where us dogs are concerned. i have a very special
bond with her and i follow her around e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e , all the
time - including the bathroom.

and when she is sitting on her toilet-throne being clean, i plonk

my bottom in front of her and i rest my head on her knees. i get
my neck and ears rubbed and tousled while she coos over me - this
is because i am her baby and she loves me

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4 - my loves and my hates

now, concerning my loves and hates. i have several and dont quite
know where to start. this is going to be a looooong chapter.

wetness

the issue of wetness is an area of great fascination and interest

for cavalier owners. this is because when you get a cavalier king
you never know whether it will be a water babe or a non-water
babe. it's pot luck what you get.

you see, drenching a cavalier in water makes us sparkle one way or

another - either we sparkle with glee or we sparkle with glumness.
until you douse your cavalier with water you can never tell which
sort of sparkle you will get.

myself - i am a non-water babe. i generally do not like the stuff though i tolerate it for baths and showers. well, i have to as i
dont get a lot of choice in the matter. personally i feel waterdrenching is overkill.

wetness magnifies the fact that we have spindly legs, and a

spindly tail, which is shown up for what it is: a long thin bony
thing like a worm, instead of a wonderful furry fan.

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the following pageant of wet cavalier pooches shows this and my

dear friend and mentor Buddy has given permission to illustrate
the effect wetness has on our imperial profiles:

~ Buddy ~

Buddys mistress says she wished she could go thin like that after
a shower.

to sum up how i personally feel about wetness, my friend prince

manifests it most adequately:

~Prince ~

hes clearly not a fan of bath time. and that foible of raising one
lip comes upon us during times of any kind of excitement whether good or bad. when i do this it gives my mistress a tingle
in her tummy because she sees how utterly perky i am

and there is no doubt that bathing and showering makes our eyes
pop from the buzz in our belly. but because were all so different
it can be buzzing with extreme ecstasy or a why-mummy whyyyyy?
type buzzing.

or our eyes can pop with delight like dexters (though to be frank
his popping eyes might be interpreted as sheer i-want-that-towelround-me-now in my humble opinion):

~ Dexter ~

or our eyes might pop with intense quizzical intreating, or a stopit-i-like-it-mummy popping:

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~ Buy ~

sometimes though, there is nothing for it except a look of

absolute disgust, of which my friend Lucy is very able to perform:

concluding with a look of sad resignation to the fact that waterdousing is a necessary ritual humans have to perform on us from
time to time:

~ Lucy ~

on the flipside however, after a visit to the vets once, i acquired

fleas (despite the ritual of flea treatments i undergo each month
from my mistress). they were most unwelcome visitors, and they
certainly came crawling out of my fur fast when i took a bath, so
there are benefits when blood-sucking critters intrude

but i must point out that cavalier kings are incredibly versatile
and fantastically random creatures. here are some of my cavalier
friends shamelessly exhibiting their love affair with buoyancy:

~ Lilly ~

lilly effortlessly floats like a lily pad, and ria uses her tail as a
rudder:

~ Ria ~

and who would have thought that some of us enjoy paddling?

wading out into the shallows is the last thing i would do. the water
would creep up my legs and make my undercarriage cold, but my
friend bramble likes it. i wonder why?

~ Bramble ~

this all goes to show how some of us love water and some of us
dont. were full of surprises like that you see. it's our individuality
spiking, expressing our unique brilliance. due to our rich diversity
some of us choose to enjoy wetness with sheer unadulterated
pleasure.

we each have our own quirks, whims and fancies, and we are such
an amazingly assorted mixed bag breed of dog that we are the
same but different all at the same time - thats how outrageously
remarkable we are

another pot luck issue is our size. not everyone knows this, but
cavalier kings come in three different sizes: small, medium and
large - with every size in between - and you never know what you
might end up with. my owners thought they were getting a small
toy dog but i grew into a large one. there was more of me to love
and cuddle so they didn't mind.

but i simply must introduce my amazing friend quigli from

oklahoma who absolutely revels in water sports. quigli is a
champion dock diving dog. and hes the breed world record holder
for flyball. this all goes to show that when you get a cavalier king
you never know what surprises we might have up our sleeves:

~ Quigli ~

and here i must digress a little - my mistress is under the false

impression that cavalier kings just do not do agility. she is wrong
of course. but then i have to bear in mind that she is an absolute
rookie where cavalier king ownership is concerned. after all, i am
the only one she has ever had, so she only has my idiosyncrasies to

base her beliefs and perceptions on.

accomplished and talented at agility:

and some can fly ~

~ Quigli ~

~ Rosie ~

but some of us are very

and like all royals, we have sporting predilections, exhibiting sheer

enjoyment with enthusiasm:

~ Coco ~

..and we can have supreme concentration:

~ Rosie ~

..two things i lack when it comes to jumping over things im

afraid, (though where grub is concerned, my enthusiasm and
concentration are unparalleled)

rosi and coco are the best of mates. their skills at agility have
completely changed the lives of their master and mistress who
now own a caravan, have changed their car, and have a social
dimension to their lives they never knew existed before cavalier
kings amazed them. that is how inconceivably distinguished we
are.

my young master tim tried hard to get me interested in agility and

to perform like that, but i simply would not, so he gave up. im
afraid its just not my thing. i would rather sleep. or go sniffing.
and so my mistress is amazed that some cavalier kings manifest
such sporting prowess.

now, back to wetness, from my point of view sogginess is at odds

with my royal dogginess, but i have to concede that we can look
grandiose swimming in rock pools:

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~ Alfie ~

and we can be fun-loving in play pools with our pack:

~ Bentley ~

rock pools are always a favourite because of the fabulous scents.

some of us have a penchant for muddy ravines:

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~ Ollie ~

and most of us have a druthers for mud in general. now, i must

stress that the issue of mud is totally different to the issue of
water, because generally speaking most of us cavalier kings
absolutely love mud. this just goes to show that despite our
nobility and highborn status, we have our eccentricities. just like
our royal humans have their own eccentricities. and a love of mud
is a definitely a cavalier outlandish oddity.

in fact, our fondness for mud is a psychological phenomenon. i

know this because we get an inner glow about mud because it puts
us in touch with our wild side. our owners sometimes get a glint of
it:

~ Henry ~

and you can see charley from north carolina is very pleased with
himself: notice the green "stickers" in his ears and scattered
through his fur. it took his mistress nearly three hours to pick all
of the debris out of him:

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~ Charley ~

and to demonstrate that this love of mud is a global phenomenon

here is my friend pacific trekking along a mud track in his native
poland:

~ Pacific ~

.. you cant that deny Pacific has a glint in his eye now can you?

and from greece, miss nelly flaunts her delight with mud in the
sun ~

~ Miss Nelly ~

myself, i dont mind mud at all - in fact i am hardly aware of it

until i get home and have to lick off what my mistress misses.
then it dries and falls off wherever i go all over the house

but what i find totally mind-boggling is how any of my friends

could possibly enjoy water dousing with a hosepipe. i have to say i
absolutely hate hose-pipery: i run away from it, so my mistress
stopped trying it on with me, but terence absolutely revels in it:

~ Terence ~

but even if some of us dont like mud and water, we certainly do

like white stuff. such as myself. white stuff is rare in the English
Riviera where i live.

in fact, i am not really sure what it is, but i love it because i can
clean my coat in it. on this issue i am a film star. you can see me
having fun wriggling about in it and generally having a ball ~

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Sam Enjoys the White Stuff

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Sir Samuel the Blenheim in the Snow

our global appeal means some of us get iced up in Iceland:

~ liver ~

and we like to play in it and eat it if we can:

~ Quigli ~

after a good roll in the snow theres nothing like a good shake and if our ears are very long the effect can be quite stunning:

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~ Sydney ~

but sometimes shaking just doesnt cut it, and we need thawing
out in front of the fire:

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~ Jazz ~

however, after the initial excitement we might get tired of it,

evidenced by jazzs ability to do an excellent gloomy eeyore
impression:

..and when it all gets too much and weve had enough, well
theres nothing for it but want to go back indoors - especially
when our wee pawpaws get chilled:

~ Abba Marchant ~

however, back to wetness. even though getting drenched is a

great leveller, i appreciate my cavalier king friends right to enjoy
their own peculiar aquatic antics. i won't argue or get onto
legalistic turf concerning this issue as there's is no right or wrong
about it - every cav to their own on it.

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after all, queen victoria enjoyed a swim when she went to the isle
of wight - so if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for us.
AND she had a cavalier king. he went to rainbow bridge a long
time ago now, but he was a handsome tricolourcalled dash:

~ Dash ~

he was queen victorias very first dog and she absolutely adored
him and worshipped the ground he walked on. well, who wouldn't
adore a cavalier king?

and that picture of dash wasnt taken with a shiny device which us
modern cavalier kings have pointed at us all the time - oh no, that
picture was done with paint and a brush by sir edwin landseer, and
was especially commissioned by the duchess of kent and given to
queen victoria in 1836. i just know these things you see

as for myself, i have no desire to follow queen victorias example

of bathing and swimming. i have always hated swimming. i have only
had to swim twice in my life and i don't like it at all.

the first time i had to swim was when i was running along a path
toward a patch of beautiful green grass in the park. i love grass
because i am trained to do my poopies on it.

with great anticipation and velocity i jumped onto the grass. but
the grass collapsed and i had to swim in it, which wasn't grass at
all, but something called duckweed. they say dogs cant see
colours, but i can. it was green, and it looked liked grass. i
wouldnt have jumped onto it otherwise. my young master tim had
to fish me out as i swam to the edge of the pond. i was lured by
the pleasure and the idea of rolling and pooping on the grass you
see. i love to lay on my back and wriggle about on it:

.which leads me nicely on to one of my greatest loves..

pooping and piddling

you see, i really enjoy toilet, and when my mistress says: toilet!
the grass calls me and i get triggered to poop and be clean. i can
just fair smell the fragrances before i am even let out of the
door. the moist earth magnifies the pungent pheromones, and my
nostrils are drawn to them like a magnet.

it is true that the subject of pooping and piddling all seems very
boring and disgusting to humans. but to us dogs it is absolutely
glorious, and it is why i have to devote a whole sub-chapter to this
gratifying doggy habit. it is just soso.. well, so earthy. in
fact, it is well known that royals have a very earthy side to them,
to compensate for all the fancy finery we exude.

my mistress says that the poet sir john betjeman was right when
he called all dogs turd-droppers. well of course we are. what
else are we supposed to drop? the aromas are delicious, and i get
very excited about it - it is one of the most pleasurable parts of
my day. apart from dinner.

when i sniff grass it makes me go happy deep in my tummy, and i

go on a mission to find my toilet spot. it's a cavalier king thing you
see - i just have to find the perfect pitch to do my poopies on, i
cant just drop it any old where.

but when i do find it, i do my toilet dance by going round and round
and round hovering over the spot, finally lowering my back end

exactly above the right patch of grass before dropping my turd on

it. that is how noble i am
and its not just poopies of course, i equally enjoy piddling up
things as much as pooping. of course i do - all dogs do. and the
first time i cocked my leg like that, my mistress smiled and called
me a clever boy, because i was all grown up like:

after i have pooped, i flick my back legs to cover it up, which my

mistress says i do with such feeling. this is because i am being a
clean dog. my mistress was so proud of me when i flicked my legs
because pups do not do this. i can flick the dirt a long way too,
often over my mistress - she even took a video of me ~

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Sam flicks his legs (and grass all over his mistress)

plus its very pleasurable sniffing the spot where another dog has
just piddled - especially if they are a different breed AND
gender. which is why i am sniffing the ground after my elegant
friend jet has relieved herself:

~ Me and Jet ~

however, when its raining outside it does make me think twice. i

have to stop at the patio door and think: do i REALLY want to go
out there to piddle and poop? (this is due to my aversion to
getting wet which you know about already).
and so the the
pleasure of it turns to being a bit of pain. but i always succumb to

making a dash for it in the end, and when i come back in i have a
good shake and get a rub down with the towel from my mistress,
which makes up for it

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food

my biggest love - of course - is food. i love eating. well of course

i do - i am a cavalier king, and we have a thing about food.

food is the item which makes me morph into a complete despot

(albeit a rather delectable despot) - because all food is mine. my
mistress was shocked to discover this polarity in my personality.
she saw i had a bit of a dark side, but she has accepted it with
grace and still loves me just the same.
my owners love me to bark at them while they're eating because
they give me a new and special name called Yurrapest. and when
they call me Yurrapest, i know they like me to keep barking until
they give me some scraps and let me lick the plates. when my
eyes pop like that it means this is serious business and shows i am
desperate to get at that food before it vanishes into thin air ~

also i will help myself to anything that is within my reach especially if its cheese. cheese always makes my eyes pop:

and sometimes i get to lick the cutlery and plates in the

dishwasher while my mistress is clearing the table:

in my tummy is a clock and i know when it is elevenses for my

bonio. and late at night i hang around my mistress when she is in
the kitchen. i know she is fiddling around with food - such as ham
and cheese for young master tims sandwiches. and any rustling
paper rustles in my tummy as well and just like magic, there i am
beside her. waiting. i just know there is food around.

when i was younger i wasnt quite so interested in food as i am now

because my favourite thing was to chase bitches on heat, which
made me very urgent. i was very slim and lithe. and fast.

i would escape through a hole in the bushes up the dog field, but i
cant remember why i lost interest in bitches. my mistress could
never catch me when i ran away after a bitch, and my four tiny
legs could run much faster than her two great big long ones.
and once when i ran off to chase, i got lost and this gave my
mistress much anxiety. eventually a lady brought me home, and
my mistress said that was it and that i would have to have it done.
so it was done, and chasing bitches is now only a vague memory. so
i am not sure whether the ramifications of chasing bitches was
good or bad, but so be it.

so that is a small insight into some of my loves and hates. i will

continue with more of them later, but for now i will tell you a bit
more about life on the streets with my master.

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5 - brass tacks of busking

when we are out on the streets, i am often required to do my

party trick. this is called a high five. i put my pawpaw up to your
pawpaw and then i get a nice treat to eat.

there is even a video of me doing this amazing trick (but an

intruder comes, so ignore him).

Sam gives a high five

and nearly always if people say: give-us-your-paw, i will oblige.

because when i offer my paw, i get food. usually. but sometimes i
am let down and get nothing. but its always worth a try - and
sometimes i will offer my paw even when its not asked for. this is
because it is such an endearing gesture. it works particularly well
on my mistress who has a soft spot for me.

doing this trick often makes people throw metal in my masters

box. and its not always metal money people put in the box. some
people give paper money to my master - he always tells them its
too much, but they wont take it back. these people enjoy giving
paper money away.

it always surprises my master because the people who give him

paper money are the ones he would never expect to do such an
act. i know that my master has had his discriminations shrivelled
since he started busking.

this is because he has been deeply moved by the generosity of

people he might naturally judge on appearance, which he tries not
to do, but he cant help it because humans are like that. we dogs
do not make judgements based on appearance (but rather by how
much attention you lavish on us).

it happens like this: the sound which comes out of the accordion
makes people go happy in their tummy and it gives them a buzz in
their belly because the music has put them in touch with their
memories and emotions.

if humans had a tail, it would be wagging when the music meets

their tummy. the music makes people throw metal money in the
box - they cant wag a tail, so they throw metal instead to show
the tickles in their tummies.

some of the people are very young women with three or four
children round them - they are the ones who open their purses
wide and tip it upside down over the box, and all the metal falls
into it.

when the young women with children empty their purses out, my
masters eyes pop. it is not just cavalier kings eyes that pop you
see - it can happen to humans too. it has happened many times to
my master. it always surprises him, because going up to a busker
and turning out all the loose change of his wallet into a buskers
receptacle is something he would never do himself.

he says these women are like the widow who gave her last mite,
and he has respect for them like he never had before he used to
busk.

but a minority of random people give my master foreign money

which he says is no use to him whatsoever. so i guess it shows how
some people are winners, and some can be losers.

and then some of my masters friends pretend not to notice him

when he is busking. this is because they are church goers and
some church goers disapprove of buskers. they think humans
should be trained not to busk because busking is the sort of
behaviour which should be modified. but some dont mind it and
even throw metal into the box.

but concerning the awkwardness when my master is ignored by

these friends - i made an interesting observation: my master has
learned to take a leaf out my cavalier king book about surrender,
and he goes into submission with these people who pretend he is
invisible: he waves his pawpaw to them and shouts hello! very
loudly to them. and so he is not vanquished by their admonition
of him - on the contrary, he uses it as an opportunity to connect
with their unconnectedness

mind you, some ask awkward questions such as: who are you
collecting for? or, how much do you get every time you busk? my
master objects to these questions, because he gets
embarrassment. so to cover his embarrassment he teases them

and he sometimes says he is collecting for the charity of Don, and

this produces a mute response, so then everyone is happy.

my master tells me i am a great asset to him, and without me he

does not get so much metal and paper money. so i know that it is
not just the music which tickles peoples tummies, it is really me
because i am just so drop-dead gorgeous

6- more loves and hates

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walkies

walkies is my next love and very high on my agenda. because

walkies means poopies, and poopies means i get dinner soon after.

i love walking with my family pack - which is me, my mistress, my

master and finally young master tim. in that order. i am the
leader of the pack you see. i like it especially when we all go out
for a walk together, or fly the kites up the dog field. i like to be
leader of the pack (unless i decide to go off on my own and browse
the grinsard for doggy perfumes to sniff).

and grass is good for eating too - the long grass that is. it is
sweet and tasty, and i always get my daily dose of fructose when i
am out on my walkies

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and i particularly enjoy sniffing twigs ~

Sam sniffs an interesting twig in great detail

unfortunately though my mistress sometimes will not walk where i

want to go. so i have to fix her in order that she follows me. she
can be very recalcitrant by pulling my lead in the opposite
direction. she is quite stubborn in fact. so i have to show my
mistress that i am going my own way:

you can see how adamant she is, not submitting to my leadership
at times. it happens on this wise: i dig my tummy into the ground
and my strength is greater than hers, so i win every time.

this discrepancy between my mistress and i usually occurs when

she wants to walk on the flat, and i want to walk down the hill. but
my mistress doesnt like that, because she has to walk back up it.
well, we both do.

she thinks i cant work it out about the hills, but i like to go down
the hill because there are better doggy perfumes down there more dogs visit downhill than on the flat which is a dead end. so i
go down the hill every time

in fact, i have evidence of how contrary my mistress can be on

walks ~

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Sams mistress is recalcitrant on walkies

i am very alert on my walkies, and often when were out walking i

know my mistress feels a buzz in her belly when she beholds my
beauty. she loves me so much and just has to bend down to give
me a stroke.

when i take my mistress for her walkies up the dog field, i make
sure she gets plenty of exercise walking round and round the
perimeters of the field while i sit and have a nice little rest in the
middle of it.

my mistress sometimes talks to me when we go up the dog field.

she also talks to herself about odd things such as how some
humans are unlucky and even when they put themselves in a winwin situation, they can still end up as a loser.

or she rambles on using strange words such as coming to terms

with her own mortality or the benefits of transience - and things
like that. things which we dogs are oblivious to because we live in

the moment and enjoy every nano-second. but she only talks to
me when theres no-one else around. if she sees another human,
she shuts up.

but when were alone together she rattles away to me about all
kinds of things. and sometimes i respond by piddling up something,
and she says thats exactly how i feel about it too - and so we
agree, my mistress and i, on the deep things of life.

sometimes she practices her singing as we walk, and she really has
to make sure no-one is a round then. it is rather embarrassing, but
sometimes, in order to put and end to her vocal scales and
coloratura, i cock my leg pretending to piddle - but really it is only
a token gesture and nothing comes out. then she tells me i am a
good boy because i am an empty dog and so we make for home.
and when we make for home, that stops her singing.

on the whole though she is a very good dog walker, and she allows
me to take my time, lead the way and browse the grinsards.

but sometimes when we go walkies it rains and the drips drop on

to me and i do not like that at all. so i lead my walker home as
soon as possible, a very soggy doggy and tragically wet

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now, there is an incongruity i have to endure while out on walkies.

it is called retrieving. i simply will not fetch anything, not even a
ball. in fact i have trained my mistress to fetch her own balls
which she throws. i might have a half-hearted attempt at it, but
doggy perfumes connect to my tummy and i sniff those instead
because i am really a sniffer dog.

here again i am such a famous dog showing off my aptitude for

sniffing on youtube ~

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Sam the sniffer dog

however, i am quite happy to take another dog's ball it if it comes

my way and run off with it, due to my gifting as an opportunist.

then, once i have the other dogs ball firmly in my mouth, i will not
let go. my strength comes from my tummy to my mouth, and my
mistress plays a game with me pulling it.

that's when i make a growl. there's no malice in it of course. but

in an effort to confiscate my contraband, my mistress starts
blowing into my eyes - which i do not like at all, but i wont let go.

now, everyone knows that if you blow into a dogs eyes we dont
like it, but if you open the car window we will stick our head out
because we love the wind to blow in our face:

~ Rio ~

that is how matchless and quirky we are.

but back to balls on walkies. when i help myself to the other dogs
ball, it is my trophy and i ALWAYS come home with it. without
exception.

my mistress has a very long special name for me when i come home
with other dogs balls - she calls me Worramigonnadowithyou. i
know when she calls me that amazingly long and special name that i
am truly a cavalier king and that she is very proud of me for not
letting go, despite all the odds. then once home, i let go of the
ball, and lose interest in it.

my mistress has sussed me out in some respects because like all

dogs i am really a wolf. thats what i am deep in my psyche, plain
and simple. according to some sources we are 99% wolf. however,
i am a rather fancy wolf at that.

allow me to explain: just like there are fancy mice, i am a fancy

wolf, and my fanciness is evident as you can see here:

but do not be deceived by my sheer breathtaking beauty and

dazzling splendour: i am a wolf. and like all wolfhounds i have a
truly wild side which i connect with when i go walkies, despite my
royal highness-ness.

now i have to admit that one of the vagaries of being 99% wolf is
that i am a scavenger and will eat any dead matter i come across.
indiscriminately. especially if its got feathers or scales. it doesnt
matter how long it has been dead. my mistress has anxiety when i
do this, but i just cant help it and if i can i will run away with it,
and bury it to eat in private at some other time.
my mistress couldnt believe her eyes when she watched me bury
my rawhide bone once. she thought it was a fairytale that dogs
bury bones - until she saw me do it. i dug a very deep hole with my
paws, put the bone in and covered it over using my nose as a spade
to shovel the soil back. i had a very dirty nose and paws. i did
look a mess.

but then several weeks later, i ate that bone after the dark,
moist earth had made the rawhide go lovely and soft - it was
scrumptious, like me. besides, dirts got nutrients - all dogs know
that

now, i NEVER walk to heel with my mistress. i am always out in

front of her; thats because im leader of our two-pack pack.
some people are better dog-walkers and toileters than others. it
has to be said.
dog-walking is an art, believe me. youd be

surprised how many people are totally clueless about walking a

dog. they are oblivious to our needs - they are just in it in for
themselves to get a bit of exercise. these are the sorts of dog
walkers who drag us on a quick march for their own benefit.

but a really good dog-walker is sensitive to *our* requirements

and will let us browse, stop and start, and sniff where we damn
well like. in other words, they let us be the leader in control of
our own walk. that is the definition of a truly brilliant dog-walker
- of which my mistress - i have to say, is one of the best despite
her occasional obstinacy.

so let me illustrate to be quite clear ~

good dog walker (my beloved mistress):

bad dog walker (a visitor):

now this visitor to our house was very kind to take me on my

walkies i admit, but i mean, you can see from that photo i am NOT
well-pleased with his dog-walking technique. he cant wait to drag
me back to our abode, just sos he can have a cuppa, thats what.

but often us dogs do not have time to make risk assessments

about our walkers abilities - we have to seize the moment so that
we can poop.

so there you have it in photographic clarity - always let your

cavalier king take you for walkies, never the other way round.
OK?

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sleeping

of course all cavalier kings love to sleep.

i can do fabulous snores. in fact my snores are truly deep and

meaningful, and i am a film star with my awesome snores on
youtube which are now witnessed by the whole world! i am such a
splendiferous dog. here is the video - please watch and see how
amazing my snores are ~

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Sam the Blenheims awesome snores

and then like all royal dogs we love our comfort and i love to make
my bed, and have a fluffy blanket to lie on. and of course as is
fitting for royal dogs, i have a memory foam mattress which i
snuggle into most deeply in my special spot under the grand piano:

my mistress cannot understand how i can sleep twisted like that,

but then of course its not in her window to perceive the state of
absolute relaxation dogs can reach in under ten seconds flat.

my mistress has to practice her mindfulness meditation for half

an hour to get even near a smidgen of the level of relaxation we
achieve and is so natural to us.

cavalier kings are experts at completely crashing out and conking

out. we sleep best on top of each other, or on top of your clothes.
or on top of you. whatever, we like sleeping with smells of the
pack. in relaxation, we excel:

~ Kacee ~

we can sleep anywhere, anytime, any place. we have extraordinarily

supple and flexible bodies. and also our ears come in very handy
as as eye mask:

~ Rosie ~

and when i am in sleeping-bliss mode i revert to being a pup in my

mummys tummy and i pull my paws into face like how i used to be
in her womb.

my mistress swoons when i do this because she knows i am

blissfully happy. all cavalier kings have this endearing knack of
pulling their paws into their face like a baby pup in sheer sleepblissfulness:

~ Miss Charlotte ~

of course, we also love human beds because we snooze elongated:

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~ Koko ~

but its not problem for us to enjoy hard floor as a cushion or

sleep upside down:

~ Poppy ~

and to prove that im not the only twisted cav in the land of nod,
here is my friend sophie even more blissfully discombobulated
than i can be:

~ Sophie ~

it all comes from when we were pups and slept on top of each
other that our propensity for amazing sleeping positions comes so
naturally:

or were quite happy crashing out on your knees when were 12

weeks old:

~ Harry ~

sadly we outgrow your knees, but your linen - whether dirty or

clean - is always a favourite spot where cuddling into your
underwear, socks, shirts, dresses, sheets and whatnots is very
comfy:

~ Oliver ~

of course, we love to sleep with humans. that is our most favourite

place. preferably under the bed covers, curled into your tummy.
or on our backs cuddled up your armpit such as me and young
master tim here:

or we like cuddling up to your feet:

~ Ollie ~

cuddling up to your feet is our speciality. its in our history you

see. we bear the title comforter spaniels and we were noted for
being foot warmers for aristocratic ladies on long carriage
journeys, snuggling under their long dresses.

and so at night i am always first up onto the bed ready for a good
nights kip. the only exception is when my mistress and master
cuddle each other instead of me. when they cuddle each other
they become urgent, and they make the bed bounce up and down,
and i do not like that at all.

so i jump off and leave them to it and go and sleep on my own on

the sofa. this is also because i am a savvy cavvy and know that it
is rude to intrude on bouncing beds

but after while i start to feel lonesome. so later on, when the
bouncing has stopped, i go back in. i go to the side of the bed my
mistress is sleeping. i never go to my masters side because it
would be useless - i have never even tried. but i always go to my
mistress because shes my mom. i put my pawpaws on her side of
the bed and wake her up. she then gives me a leg up onto the bed,
and so i settle in between my master and mistress and sweetly
sleep until morning.

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7 - sleeping on the job

now, its a good job i like sleeping because i do that quite a bit on
the street, though often i get woken for a stroke when people
throw metal in my masters accordion box. sometimes the people
who throw metal come back a second time because they have
bought a treat for me. once, someone gave me a dried pigs ear,
and that kept me very happy for a long time.

now, i should say that i am a dog of very great perception and

discernment, and when people stroke me, i know them from the
inside of their tummy to the inside of mine.

some people stroke me with their whole hand. it reminds me of my

mothers tongue licking me when i was a wee pup. people that
stroke me like that are nurturers. and i know when a person
strokes with their whole hand that they will be back with a treat
or two.

there is a lady that comes to see me every time we are in

Paignton. she comes and gives me a good stroking, her hand licking
my head and ears, and if i didn't have my vest on, i know her hand
would lick my back.

my knowing about her is keen. she has a loneliness, and i know she
has no touch in her life. i am her only touch of warmth. she has a
sadness, and i know she gets a funny-in-her-tummy feeling at
times, because i connect with her emanation. she smiles at me,

and smiling is rare for her, and it is from her heart. she is
depleted because she has nurtured everyone else except herself,
but i know that when she strokes me she is nurtured by my
dogginess, and i feel happy because she goes away not so depleted.

in fact, she is so in love with me and found me so empowering she

did a painting of me - thats how amazing i am, and how much
effect i had on her. i am such an inspirational dog. and you can
see her in the this picture as well as me, because she has done it
with her tummy-love

then there are people who stroke me using their middle two
fingers - they gently wiggle these two fingers behind my ears or
on my neck. these are affectionate people. the have a human
gentleness deep within, which sometimes gets pushed down
because they have to hide. but with me their true gentleness is
bright, and it shines through their wiggling middle fingers and i
like it, of course i do.

then i get people who are really extrovert and rub my ears all over
the place. this is fun. these are are a mixture of people, and you
can never quite tell about them. their happiness comes out in
their wagging hands on my ears, just like my happiness comes out
of my wagging tail. generally these people love dogs much more
than humans, and they tell my master that too. he is unsure about
them loving dogs more than humans, but i agree with them.

now it is plain that the reason some people like dogs more than
humans is because we dogs are so highly principled - unlike some
humans. we have hi-fidelity, we never answer back or argue, and
we dont cause wars.

and of course we do not play mind games like some people do. we
just is.

and we do not talk humanese. so we cannot tell you what we think

about how you behave. we are witnesses to many things, and we
are dependent. and innocent. even cats. and that's saying
something. because cats will not obey humans like dogs do. even
cavalier kings are more obedient and than cats.

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8 - cats

since i have mentioned the subject of cats, i may as well address

this contentious issue. now, if i see a cat, my tummy goes dizzy
and i zoom towards the cat. but often a great tightness round my
neck suddenly stops me and my mistress nearly falls over. even at
my age i can still chase a cat at high speed.

but some cats have tummies which glue them to the ground, and
their eyes freeze into mine. then the fun goes out of it. so i
start sniffing around to show i am not interested in astonied cats.
i acknowledge their feline right not to let me chase them.

however, some of my cavalier friends get on well with their feline

companions - it all depends you see. if you can cuddle up to them,
then they make extremely good pillows:

~ Charlie and Bollie the cat ~

or they can use us as pillow:

~Spencer and Freya the cat ~

but then, without putting too much spin on the matter (lest cats
get the idea they can outshine us), they can be quite fun as well,
especially when theyre small and kittenish:

~ Oliver and Bubbles the kitten ~

and of course, we cavaliers are not just accommodating of humans,

but we are perfectly capable of accommodating cats too. we are
so fantastically welcoming that we can take our feline friends into
our pack, posing for a photo with them. even when theres food
around:

or we can even pretend they are a sibling to snuggle up to:

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~ Byron and Fiorda the cat ~

then there are others who will never enjoy a close relationship,
but still get along quite well, and can share co-ordinated interests
such as wondering about something at the bottom of the stairs ~

~ Opal and Simon the cat ~

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me personally, i chase cats

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9 - humans and dogs

i love all people - it doesnt matter who they are. if i see a human
in the distance, my tail immediately starts fanning from side to
side. as the human gets nearer to me, the excitement in my
tummy gives me turbo-tail which starts to go round and round like
a propeller. my mistress says i would take off if i wasnt so heavy.

my emotion of happiness comes out of my tail you see, because my

tail is linked to my tummy where my tickles are. you can see it
here in this youtube video ~

!
Sam sees a human being on the other side of the road

and when i am talked to i listen intently - sometimes with one ear,

sometimes with the other ear - just sos that i really get the
meaning:

when i do this my mistress gets the buzz in her belly again, and
just has to give me a stroke ..and usually a cuddle and kiss too.

were all the same at listening and cocking our head to one side:

~ Naisha ~

however, one thing we modern cavalier kings have had to come to

terms with are laptops. i repeat - laptops. yes, laptops have
replaced us as lap dogs, and we dont like that at all.

we can try being insistent and force our way on to human laps. but
then it all gets very uncomfortable because the human tries to
type on their laptop over our bodies, and it makes us go funny-inour-tummy. and so we just accept that humans need their laptops
more than us dogs and we move on, finding our own place on the
sofa:

it is more comfortable than a human lap plus i can cross my back

legs:

i am a great socialite in the dog world, and when i was wee pup i
used to like all dogs. however i've learnt that up the dog field
some of them might jump on me - such as henry and misty who are
bigger than me. they always want to pin me down for some reason.
i do not like that at all. and because of our gentle nature some of

us have got hurt very badly other dogs, so we have to choose our
friends wisely.

i am particularly magnetised to dogs of my own breed - i just cant

explain it, but when i see another cavalier king theres a tingle in
my tummy and we instantly love each other.

my best friends are holly and jess, because we have a good romp
round the field, chasing each other. here i am after my master
has walked us mush-mush style in his wheelchair: best paw/wheel
forward:

~ Holly and Jess ~

if a big dog comes at me when i am up the dog field i am quite

good at sensing if they are a soft dog. if they are soft and wag
me, then i will sniff their bottom, and they sniff mine - much to
the disgust of my mistress who says its a filthy habit and a good

job humans dont greet one another by sniffing each others

bottoms.
but i honestly cant see why they dont because it is
very pleasurable, and you learn a lot about them from their scent.

if i see a big dog, i surrender immediately while it is still a long

way off. i go into submission and show it my tummy. then it knows
i am vulnerable, and it might not hurt me, so it is softer.
you see surrendering is empowering in some situations. i
surrendered when i first met my mistress in the back garden, and
she just totally fell head over heels in love with me. well of
course she did, who wouldnt fall in love with a dog like me on my
back showing my tummy? i went up to her and rolled over so she
could see i am just me, and she could tickle my tummy. which i
like. and she was then totally smitten with me forever.

and whenever my mistress passes me i often roll over for a tummy

tickle. this produces a wonderful bonding in my relationship with
her

humans could learn such a lot from my excellent behaviour of

surrendering. it is one of my greatest strengths, though humans
see surrender as weakness. but they do not realise that there is
power in vulnerability - and although the other dog thinks they are
the top dog when i surrender, it is really me thats top dog. my
vulnerability has got the victory over the bigger dog without them
knowing it. thats how amazingly clever and superlative i am.
but of course that doesnt apply when strange dogs out on their
walkies come and piddle on my front lawn. a fierce guttural woof
explodes from my tummy and i zoom toward the patio door to
ward them off.

and now to a foible which dogs of all breeds have in common spatial awareness. it differentiates us vastly from humans. my
mistress says that i have no spatial awareness whatsoever, but in
actual fact she is wrong. i do have spatial awareness - she just
doesnt know it.

you see, i lie in the middle of the kitchen floor while she steps
over me as she cooks the meals, demonstrating that my spatiality
is *meta*physical - not physical. thats how quirky and
combobulated i am.
its like this: metaphysical spatial awareness is vastly superior to
just mere physical spatial awareness. this is because it is
concerned with two questions, namely:
1) what is ultimately
there? and 2) what is it like?

if you dont believe me, google metaphysics and see what wiki says
about it. i have quoted from it exactly.

cavalier kings are master metaphysicians because we are hyperaware of: 1) what is ultimately there (perhaps a nice cold floor to
lie on, or a poo-parfum to sniff, or food to eat), and we are
doubly-hyper aware of: 2) what is it like (absolutely scrummy,
yummy and delicious).

so there you have it - i have excellent spatial awareness despite

what my mistress says

and it stands to reason that if humans were master

metaphysicians like dogs, the world might just be a better place.

this is because they would have to be honest about these two

questions: 1) what is ultimately there? and 2) what is it like? i
keep repeating this, just sos you can understand it.

and with things that deceive humans such as extreme ideologies

and opinions, examining what is ultimately there and what it is like
might save them a lot of hassle, dont you think?

thats why us cavalier kings lead uncomplicated lives you see,

because were not deceived by anything - nor are we a slave to
our own egos - that's how amazingly noble and accomplished we
are.

even queen victoria knew it when she wrote about her favourite
cavalier king dash on the marble slab placed over his grave in
windsor park - her accolade applies to us one and all:

!
Here lies DASH,
the Favourite Spaniel of Queen Victoria
By whose command this Memorial was erected.
He died on the 20 December, 1840 in his 9th year.
His attachment was without selfishness,
His playfulness without malice,
His fidelity without deceit.
READER, if you would live beloved and die regretted, profit by the
example of DASH.

so there you have it: it is 100% official by royal decree: cavalier

kings have the seal of royal approval for our behaviour and
demeanour. she summed us up well, dont you agree?

so that's a bit about me and you can see that i am a very sunny
sociable dog, though when other dogs AND food are in front of
me a darkness spikes up from my tummy, and i can't explain it but
i just have to get that food before the other dog. this did get
me into trouble once, but i won't bore you with that.

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10 - street talk

my master likes to talk to people on the streets as much as he

plays. and as much as i like the sound of the accordion because i
am a musical hound it is a relief when the hooting sounds stops.
my ears can rest. my ears also rest when some very kind people
offer to take me walkies so that i can do toilet.

if i was human i would be labelled a seer. on the streets, i see into

people because i am sensitive. some people are regulars and stop
to talk to my master. some lonely people kind of adopt me for a
short while, because i am so lovely, and tender.

there is a lady in a brown coat who always comes to spend time

with us. she strokes me and brings me treats. i see she needs a
First Dance but has never had one. she's a dreamer like me. i
dream that i successfully chase cats and catch them; she dreams
she is chased by a gorgeous man who dances with her. slowly. she
also has a blanket like i do, and cuddles up to it at night when she
is alone. i know about blankets, and about dancing because it's
what humans do when they're happy, and Browncoat Lady
pretends to be happy, but i know she can only dream about
happiness.

we have a regular following, my master and i. some of our following

are widows. they are one of my favourite sorts of people because
when i see into them i see wisdom. to most people they are
invisible, because they seem plain. and old. but i can see their

added value which is amazing even though it is missed by many.

and when they come and stroke me and chat to my master i see
their colourfulness. they have a history which mirrors and
reflects my own qualities - fidelity, loyalty, sweet-naturedness,
inner beauty and absolute honesty, and they have time to lavish
their attention on me.

now busking is not always pleasant and sometimes we have to move

several times because some shop owners do not like buskers.
especially wine merchants and bankers. they think it lowers the
tone of the place. but most shops like my masters merrymaking especially cafes - because it attracts customers who stop by. he
also gets asked a lot to attend charity events outdoors because
his music makes people happy in their tummies, so they buy more
goods from the charity stalls.

my master says busking is like life - a mixture of pleasure and

pain. and moving to a different pitch is a pain. my master has to
gather everything up - which isnt easy for him in a wheelchair and we traipse around looking for another pitch to set up. this is
where my fidelity is most appreciated and cherished by my
master.

and once a fellow busker - one who had very little musical skill and
used a backing track while he pretended to play - had the cheek
to ask my master to move. this was because he wanted to go on
my masters pitch. but my master didnt want to move and and a
fight nearly broke out.

11 - holidays

i know that holidays are happening with the suitcases come out.
either we all go together as a pack, or i go on my own holiday
which i like because i get to stay with different humans and
sometimes other doggy friends.

i like different humans because they have different smells and i

get to be cuddled by them, but i always like to get back to the
smell of my own pack afterwards.

when we all go together as a pack, we go to various places birmingham usually - and i get to stay in the travelodge with my
family , because dogs are welcome there.

and when were in birmingham we visit nanny barbara, who gives me

treats. can you see me in the photo below? im lingering because i
just know there is cheese in that fridge she is about to open:

!
!

and here i am practising my superb spatial awareness around nanny

barbaras feet in her kitchen. all kitchens are my domain because:
1) i know what is ultimately there (cheese) and 2) i know what is it
like (delicious):

once though we had to stay in a place called weymouth where

there is no travelodge, and they had to smuggle me in because
they couldnt bear to leave me alone in primrose the van. here i
am smuggled and snuggled up to young master tim:

!
!

then a long time ago we went to cornwall. they talk funny in

cornwall and say strange things. my mistresss friend - betty thought i was delightful and i got lots of cuddles when she looked
after me for a day. she used to call me My Bird - which is daft
because i am NOT a bird. i chase birds. especially seagulls.

her man in the house liked me too, and he would twiddle his two
fingers on the back of my neck and ask me ow are ee angin my
ansome? (which translated from cornish into english is how are
you hanging my handsome?)

now, this strange cornish and very personal greeting is reserved

only for males, and of course he must have been referring to my
ears, since i am no longer in tact, and do not have any hanging bits
and bobs.
i have never, in all my born days, been greeted as ow are ee angin
my ansome? and this is NOT - repeat NOT - a greeting to use
with royalty such as myself. it is totally inappropriate.
but i
forgave him because i am indeed truly handsome. and he used to
give me treats

and whenever he talked to me like that i would just look up at him

with my winsome eyes, and he never failed to give me a cuddle and
tell me what a bootiful dog i was

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12 - grooming

even though i dislike water, i liked being groomed and clipped. i

wouldnt say it is one of my greatest loves, and i only like it
performed on my by a professional, not by my mistress. i *want*
to like it when she tries her hand at it, but i just cant because
she does not have the right touch and my belly goes tight and
wheezes because it makes me go funny-in-my-tummy, not with
tickles, but with oh dears.

but i have to be groomed because my fluffiness is very fluffy, and

my feathers are very feathery, and i do feel cool in the summer
when i get de-fluffed and de-feathered. i like it when i go to the
beautician to get all spruced up because they give me treats. and
i especially like it if laura the mobile groomer comes in her van and
i run into her van because she gives me cuddles as well. and i like
vehicles. from small cars to great big lorries i dash out and if i
can i will jump in the door or boot if it is open. the scents in them
are intriguing and not only that, there is a new human who will
absolutely adore me.

but lauras van has doggy scents in it, and i like being blow dried,
but not by my mistress who hasn't got a clue about blow drying
dogs.

i have been clipped many times, but one clipper i visited (who shall
remain nameless) made a complete mess of my hairline as you can
see in the photo. my mistress was VERY upset.

she was so disgusted at it she took a photo and posted it up on

facebook. i have to agree with her, it does look rather strange
and it rather spoiled my royal image:

giving me a bob like that also wrecked any semblance of the

duchess thumbprint on my head.
sometimes its called the
blenheim spot and if you google it you will discover the legend
that surrounds us blenheims - so many of us are born with a
lozenge spot on our heads.

and then a different clipper clipped off my whiskers and i was

disabled for weeks after that:

!
!

my mistress got quite emotional about it, and couldnt understand

why my whiskers would get cut off by a professional, and when
she gets confused, she starts crying

however, my mistress stopped having my lug holes clipped because

i used to look like more like a beagle - albeit a very dapper beagle
- and she thought it depleted my cavalier kingship. i do agree that
my long ears definitely add to my royal demeanour dont you
think?

!
!

it has to be said though that us dogs are quite capable of

grooming ourselves in some respects. especially our private bits evidenced by the fact we are able to reach them. just about.
however, my mistress says that we have some disgusting habits,
such as when we do our ablutions on parts of our anatomy while
guests are eating their dinner:

but that is because she isnt into metaphysics like we are - we are
on a totally different level to humans when it comes to knowing:
1) what is ultimately there (our private bits) and 2) what it is like
(dirty).
thus, personal hygiene for us cavalier kings is best done by
ourselves in this respect, despite human attempts to smother us
in foaming shampoo which contains sulphate laureth sulfate which i for one do not like. our own saliva has special properties
and enzymes for our own private bits and its everything we need.
shampoo is irrelevant. unless we are covered in mud of course.
and as you know already, we like mud

13 - names and things

now to the area of the names i get called. my most common name
is Dog, or Thedog. i know i am Thedog, and i look up at them
every time they say Thedog. because i know that something is
going to happen with me when they call me by that name. such as
walkies. or going somewhere in primrose. i like primrose - she is
big and i always sit in the front seat. here i am ready to go to do
my therapy work where i visit old people and wow them with my
glittering charm, giving them therapy by being friendly and fluffy.
but often it gets too hot for me and after a while i just go flopbott like that dog in james herriotts story - i just cant help it.
we cant sweat, so we subside.

but i do not like it when my pack leaves me in primrose the van on

my tod. such as when they visit the grill where young master Tim
gets bottomless chips (you will have to google bottomless chips if
you dont know what they are).

dogs arent allowed at the grill.

but dogs should be allowed
everywhere, especially royal dogs like me. its not right and its
not fair that i am discriminated against. and besides, bottomless
chips will never compare to my bottomless beauty. ever. and
thats final.

my mistress calls me odd names, such as Fluffy Feet, Noodle

Poodle, Dog of Dogs, Pooch of Pooches, Sammy Soo Sah, Princey
Pru Pah, Sweet Pea, Babes, Shmulie, Shmules, Precious Pumpkin
and Darls, but i take no notice of these silly names as she can't
help it. of course she cant. it is because of my absolute
fabulousness, and because i am so utterly adorable that these
soppy names have come into her head. i am just so supremely
splendid.

she especially loves me when i run up the field and my ears flap up
and down - she has a new and special name for me then called
Wind-in-his-Ears. she says it is my indian name:

all cavalier kings ears flap when we run, and every cavalier owner
has a picture like that:

~ Jasper ~

and when our ears flail around in full flight firing on all four
cylinders it inspires artists to get their pencils out:

my mistress also calls me Springly-Pup because i am a very springy

dog and i can jump up very high - in fact i can jump up on my
master and mistresss bed. and thats saying something, because
it is VERY high. my tummy digs into my paws and they vault me
upwards. or sometimes they eject me backwards if i bump into a
twig or something hostile on a walkies.

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she also calls me Curly-Butt because i have a natural perm on my

backside with very curly fur, which she tickles with her fingers.
and i like it. of course i do, it feels good.

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another name i am often called is Down!Down! - usually in a loud

voice. i get called Down!Down! when visitors come into our house,
and i just want to run right up to their faces. i really like to get
as close to their face as i can to sniff their noses, even if i have
been sniffing jess and hollys bottoms.

but i am pulled away, so i am bewildered somewhat as who would

not be totally besotted with a dog like me?

here i am with a visitor who doesnt like dogs. but she liked me.
of course she did. thats how stupendous i am:

we are happy to cuddle up to any person that comes our way. it

doesnt matter who they are or what their baggage is, we dont
care. the simple fact is, when you deconstruct our complex canine
conundrum, you are left with the simple fact that all we want is to
be loved and adored.

!
that is why owning a dog teaches you a lot about yourself

!
!

14 - crissmas

now i like crissmas because i get treats. lots of them. and toys.
you can see my eyes popping in anticipation of whats in that
crissmas stocking. and its mine. all mine.

though to be frank now that i am middle aged i am not that hot on

toys. but when i am in the mood i like to take a toy in my mouth
and shake it ferociously to kill it. that is the wolf in me, and i just
cant help it. however, occasionally i will cuddle one, like this toy
which my nanny barbara bought me:

and i used to like playing tug of war with my monkey:

but its an effort when you reach middle age like me, and i prefer
to sleep in my spare time.

and squeaky toys i consider an absolute insult. pathetic things

they are. i will NOT play with squeaky toys. so there.

on the streets though i like crissmass because my master plays

different tunes - which makes a nice change

and i am happy to be dressed up as santa claus when we go out

busking, but because its all part of the job as a buskers dog:

when my master plays his crissmas tunes and people see me

dressed up as santa they throw even more metal in my masters
box because i look so legendary with his musical backdrop.

people are very kind, and parents like to send their children with
money to put in the box. it makes the children feel all grown up
and teaches them generosity.

then one year i won first prize in the best-dressed crissmas dog
competition in dartmouth. for this amazing event i sported extra
bling with my seasonal regalia:

my master was convinced it was the bell and the flashing lights
that won me the first prize and rosette:

but i know it was because of my sheer unadulterated cavalier

kingship that i won that competition.

dont you agree?

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15 - cavalier quirks

every cavalier king has their own peculiar quirks: some we share in
common, and some are unique to us as individuals.
just like
humans.

now the first thing i do when i get up and my mistress lets me out
is to sniff the air - although if im desperate i might go and piddle
and poop. but usually i just sit and sniff. i take a good whiff of it
with my nose in the air just smelling the morning and enjoying it. i
take my time over it:

or i will sit out on the front lawn and admire the view looking out
to sea:

a common quirk cavalier kings have is wiping our bottoms along

the floor. my mistress is desperate to get a video of me doing
this for Youve Been Framed so she can get 250 quid but i will not
perform for her. it happens on this wise: my bottom gets an itch,
so i flop down on it and stick my back legs and paws pointing
forward. then i drag my bottom along the floor using my front legs
to pull me along until the itching stops.

i did this once on the vicars carpet and disgraced myself, but he
didnt seem to mind. my mistress says its not a good habit, so she
is pleased i dont do it all that often, so i doubt she will ever get
that video

another quirk is my toilet dance - but i have mentioned that

already. cavalier kings are very dancy-type dogs - especially me.
i can do a two-step to my own barking by stepping from paw to paw
as i woof.

and when i go walkies i am often in tandem with my walker and

when their left paw goes forward so does mine:

even when theres two walkers - we still get it altogether hehehe

this visitor happened to be in on my morning constitutional, and
we all have marvellously co-ordinated footwork:

another quirk cavalier kings have is that we have very independent

minds. when i was two, my young master tim took me to dog
training classes.
this was a complete farce as far as i was
concerned, but i went along with it. i had to mix with dogs whose
behaviour was rough, and they got a squirt of water in their face
for their superfluity of naughtiness.

but i was a good dog and i won prizes for my master tim. i am such
a clever dog because as i have already mentioned you cant train a
cavalier king to do anything - unless we choose to do it, or because
theres food in it somewhere.

personally i just do not do obedience - its not really my thing. but

i like to please my owners, and so when they try to lick me into

shape, i do my best to fall in line - but not always, because my

mind gets distracted.

although i did get told off once (albeit very nicely) when i was
very young, and my owners werent used to doggy ways: it so
happened that i was an innocent culprit.

now, this is how incredibly quirky we dogs are: only dogs can be
innocent and a culprit at the same time.

this is because humans are illogical, and when my master hid his
car keys so that i wouldnt steal them and my mistress was hunting
for them, apparently it was all my fault because i might have
stolen them, but didnt, and wouldnt:

youre a naughty dog sam! says my mistress

whats he done? asked Wendy, the visitor
its not what hes done; its what he might have done!

so there you have it. i was the thief which might have been but
wasnt: an innocent culprit

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but i played along with the dog training classes pretending i was
trainable, and young master tim got the accolade as a good junior
handler. so i was well pleased

you can see how excited i wasnt from that photo.

my night antics can be quirky too (and this is where living in a

bungalow with no stairs comes in handy). my mistress says i am
absolutely golden at night. but actually my mistress is also
absolutely golden at night because i do sometimes need a piddle
and she knows when i am at the patio door wanting to be let out all i have to do is a little whining mmmmmmm sound from the
back of my throat and shes awake in a flash. shes brilliant.

which brings me to my different woofs. i have a very loud ear

piercing woof when i want my breakfast, and this woof is
accompanied by my woof-dance switching from one front paw to
another in my desperation to make my mistress get my breakfast
NOW.

then i have a vicious guttural woof to ward off other dogs from
my front garden. this woof explodes from my tummy as i fly
toward the patio door in order to show that is my territory and
they had better get off. i might surrender to them up the park,
but if they come on my turf to do their piddle, i will not stand it.

but - and this is how absolutely sublime i am - i have a very quiet

woof which i do after my mistress has let me out during the night
for toilet and she has gone back to sleep and has forgotten about
me. i am such a considerate dog that i do not want to wake the
neighbours, and so i have a whisper-whoof to let my snoozing
mistress know i have done my toilet and im fed up of waiting
outside and want to come back in.

now to illustrate how fantastically interesting we are as a breed,

here is my attractive friend poppy, who came to stay with us for
her holidays when her owners went on a cruise. you see, we
swapped beds:

~ Poppy ~

(Me)

she is on my big bed and i am on her tinsy bed. but we so enjoyed

swapping because of the different scents which assailed our keen
nostrils and enhanced the enjoyment of our relaxation - you can
see how the balmy scents of poppy induced a yawn for me.

another incredibly amazing pot luck foible is to do with mating: if

you mate a ruby cavalier with tricolour, you might end up with a
blenheim like me .you just never know what colours you will
get in a litter. our genes are just so tantalisingly exotic that you
cant predict what sorts of cavalier we will be.

if i were to write about cavalier king quirks and foibles wed be

here all day, so i will now describe some human quirks.

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16 - human quirks

now, back to life on the streets with my master don to begin

illustrating some human quirks. its not just cavalier kings that
have quirks and foibles. i could make this into a very long chapter,
but i will try and keep it brief.

when my master stops playing his contraption, his mouth starts

talking to all the passers-by. and talking is a very human quirk.

another quirk of humans is to point shiny devices and take photos.

my master and i have been photographed by people from all over
the world when they visit torbay and dartmouth.

the chinese are particularly fascinated by my masters busking

and take many photos. and once we went busking in stratfordupon-avon. now, as everyone knows, stratford-on-avon was where
the famous english bard shakespeare was born, and so it is visited
by many sightseers and tourists.
when we were there, the
malaysian olympic team came and stopped by to take photos of us
and listen for a while. they even requested a song called streets
of london and my master made them sing along to it. only humans
can do this sort of thing - they sang streets of london" in
stratford-on-avon: thats how quirky humans can be you see.

and my master is very good at getting people singing in the street.

sometimes people will even start dancing in the street while he
plays - especially when he plays his klezmer music.

now, it has to be said, my master has a unique gift of extracting a

persons whole life story from them in about 20 seconds flat,
including their name, telephone number and address so that he can
add them to his enormous list of contacts. and some people even
put the videos up on youtube ~

!
Dartmouth Don - street music

sometimes though there can be interesting and unusual happenings

at home as well on the streets. once my mistresss father, les,
came to stay with us. now i liked les because he was my kind of
guy. he liked his kip, and his snores were almost as marvellous as
mine. and another plus about les was that he didnt use a lap top this meant i could be his lap dog and we had lots of snuggles.
here we are enjoying a snooze together:

but i could only snooze with him on the sofa in the lounge. i
couldnt sleep in his bedroom at night because it was too hot for
me. even my mistress noticed it. in fact, it was so hot my
mistress worried it was too hot for les himself. the only thing was
les couldnt hear well and wouldnt wear his hearing aids. so my
mistress always had to speak to him in bold print - and sometimes
in capitals, and if it was really bad, she had to speak to him in bold
print AND capitals. this was to try and make him understand like this:

are you too hot dad?

eh?
are - you - too - hot?
what?
ARE - YOU - TOO - HOT?
who?
you !!
me?
yes, you
what?
are YOU too HOT?
when?
well, now..
what?
are YOU too hot?
ermare you?
ohdont matter
eh?

.and so it was, by then end of his stay my mistress was quite

hoarse. all she wanted was a yes or a no, but she got a who, what,
where and when. such is life when ears do not work properly. his
ears even thought that laptops were lamb chops - oh how i wish
they were

but les displayed another human quirk when it came to doghandling: and that is the propensity for strangling us when posing
for a photo, of which les was one of the worst im afraid. though
its only because he wanted to show my extreme exquisiteness
off:

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another human quirk is the propensity to go fishing. i often

accompany my young master tim on his fishing trips and at the
lakes we will sit together waiting for a fish to strike:

i am such a faithful dog like that you see.

one day i even went sea fishing with young master tim. i ate a
very tasty piece of bait - hook and all - before master tim could
cast it to the fish. my vigilant mistress then insisted taking me to
the vet for an x-ray and i have a wonderful scar on my tummy to
show how dogs and fishing can be an eventful occasion

now i have observed that humans can be a strange breed of

creature due to their inclination to fantasise - something dogs
dont do because we are metaphysicians always living in the Real
World. but we know that most of our humans need their fantasies,
so we understand they will never be able to reach our level of
consciousness.

and another human foible is their tendency to self-sabotage. now

sabotage is bad, but self-sabotage is just plain silly. but they
cant always help it. self-sabotage is simply not in a dogs window
due to our boundless opulence. we are not prone to impostor
syndrome like some humans are.

and as old queen vic said (she wont mind me calling her that as one
royal to another) if humans would live beloved and die regretted,
then profit from cavalier king example: let your attachments be
without selfishness, your playfulness without malice, and your
fidelity without deceit, OK? then you will be happy

one quirk dogs can share with humans though it the ability to reinvent themselves, especially if we have had a bad start in life.
but once we get good people in our lives, our continual blossoming
comes from our glittering vibes invading our good owners hearts.
even some of my more timid cavalier friends in my neighbourhood
who have had a bad start in life with bad people still shine bright,
even though their faculties have been subdued by human
heaviness in the past.

but all in all, without our humans, we would be lost, so thats why
we find you so exciting and can sometimes get separation anxiety
when you leave us on our tod. we are never quite sure whether we
will ever see you again when you leave us, so we bark and bark to
make you hear us and come back.

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17 - a few more loves and hates

now, before i wind things up i have to say i do not like it when my

mistress sneezes. my sneezes are very dainty from my snout, but
her sneezes explode from her tummy into a loud high-pitched
growl and i am sure she is telling me off so i run away from her.
but she always comes after me to hug me, so its a rum do, and
somehow we navigate this difficult part of our relationship with
fortitude.

also i do not like plastic bags. generally. especially black plastic

bags which sometimes get blown about by the wind and lodge in
the bushes. i am very uncertain as to what they are - some kind
of demon, or fierce object which might explode. so i dont know
whether to growl at it, bark at it, or back away from it.
eventually my mistress always comes to the rescue and makes it
disappear just like magic. she is very useful like that.

when visitors come i love it because the pack in the house gets
bigger, and the bigger the better. i particularly like it when the
men come round. my master likes his mens meetings and i always
go and sit with them rather than with my mistress.

but even if the pack increases just by one i like it. such as when
my mistresss piano pupils visit. i always feel much more relaxed
when the pack in the house is bigger and when im relaxed i fart
because i go floppy in my tummy. i am not a farty dog generally
speaking, but they are stinkers when i do - much to my mistresss

disgust and embarrassment, but then she hasnt learnt the art of
farting unapologetically.

a final hate: i hate thursdays because they are very annoying for
me because my mistress never knows what room she wants to be
in. she moves around from room to room with a duster in her
hand, and no sooner have i settled down comfortable in one room,
she moves to another and i have to get up to follow her. and when
the vacuum comes out - well, that is last straw. it growls loudly in
falsetto, so i admit defeat and find a quiet spot on my own.

and a final love is just to be. especially in my favourite position

with my back legs sticking out. everyone knows a cavaliers back
legs are elastic

18 - grand finale

i would like to introduce you to my ravishing friend lucy:

she is a heroic hound because she is a survivor. she survived being

abused on a puppy farm which made her very ill where she had a
had an arched back. but she was rescued and she found a new life
with a mummy who loves her. lucy is transformed. its a miracle.

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~ Lucy ~

lucy is a celebrity spaniel giving a voice to the voiceless about the

cruelty of puppy farming - she has featured on television, in
magazine articles and on the internet through Facebook and
twitter. her story goes out to the world.

she is a pooch of great verve and courage because she lives with
an illness called epilepsy, and her mummy is brave supporting lucy
through her health problems.

you see, us cavalier kings can get health problems, so we need all
the help we can get. we need our humans to help us to be as
healthy as we can so that we do not go to rainbow bridge too soon.
and we need our humans to be aware and educate themselves
about cavalier health matters, and for all breeders to be
responsible.

and lucys transformation is proof that good food, good care, love
and devotion work wonders where we can thrive. lucy has found
her forever home with her mummy, and with lady, the ruby
cavalier king who is now lucys sister .
lucy loves lady but
thinks she needs to work on her modelling skills and become more
of a poser:

~ Lucy and Lady ~

you can see Lucys story on youtube - but you might need a box of
tissues handy ~
The Story of Lucy, The Rescue Cavalier

.oh and i did a lucy wordle:

.talking about survivors, there is a man that comes to chat with

my master on the street sometimes - he is also a survivor and i
know him from his inside out. he has survived many losses. but
his losses have been hard for him because they needn't have

happened. i know his sadness because of the way he bends down

and puts his arm around me and pulls me in to his face. he ruffles
my ears affectionately - as if to say that life goes on through all
the pain, but there are some nice soft doggy bits to help it along.
so you see its one of those vice versa situations - us dogs can help
human survivors and humans can help dog survivors.

so thats me, some my cavalier friends and my owners in a nutshell.

its rather a big nutshell, described in exact detail from my dogs
eye view of the world - and i could write loads more for you - but
a large nutshell will do otherwise well be here all day, and i have
dinner to eat.

from all that you will now have gathered that the sole purpose of
a dog is to enjoy life in abundance - eating, walking, sleeping,
farting (well, we cant burp like humans can we?) pooping, piddling
and being stroked and adored - we absolutely lap it up, of course
we do. we teach humans a concept they struggle with:
unconditional love. most of all, we teach you about yourself. what
sorts of person you are - whether you have a sweet tummy or a
bitter one.

and so we cavalier kings grace our owners lives and homes with
our sublime presence and absolute gorgeousness, and you enrich
our lives with your unfailing adoration of our beauty and our every
quirk, foible and whim. that is the special bond between a cavalier
king and their family. and even when we have fulfilled our days

with you and we go to rainbow bridge, that bond lives on because

the tickles in our tummies still tickle yours

the end

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Copyright (c) Dawn Fallon 2014

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Thank you for reading Sam - The Buskers Dog. If you have a
cavalier story you would like to share, please join this Facebook
Group ~

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The Big Storybook of Quirky Cavaliers

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