On Cannonballs and Imperial Thrones

 

 

The making of an Imperial Throne is a complex process. First, a civil war between humans is necessary. One side must find a castle occupied by the other and decide to knock down its walls. In this case Oliver Cromwell's Parliamentarians wasted the walls of Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire with stone cannonballs.

 

There must then be a period of republican government. The cannonballs will lie around the castle ground in an apparent state of inertia. After many years of dressing only in black and white, not dancing round May Poles, and not doing lots of other things, there must then be a Restoration of the human monarchy. 

 

It is at this point that humans, once again gaily dressed in silks and pinks, will decide to tidy up the castle grounds. The fashion for stone cannonballs is no longer one of firing them at walls and other humans but to gather them up and use them as decorative garden features.

 

But one such cannonball was never in a state of inertia; this was an Imperial Throne and was placed in anticipation of my visit to Kenilworth for I am Archie the Welsh Terrier, Ozimandias King of Kings - Look upon my works ye Mighty and despair!

On The Imperial Fleet Review

 

I stand nobly reviewing my Hebridean fleet

 



 

Two fine Dogs O'War, all ship shape and Bristol fashion

 

I am delighted to announce that I have added these two fine craft to the Imperial Fleet. They are to cover my Northern realm and are currently moored off, or perhaps I should say on, the Isle of Mull.





On Walking Off Lead

http://youtu.be/dtx9yqzKin4

Thought you might like to see that it is possible to walk your humans off lead. I allowed the manservant to throw the ball, though he still seems incapable of retrieving it despite me showing him how it's done. I even trusted my handmaiden with my video camera!

On Puppyhood

I can't believe how quickly time has flown. All of a sudden, I'm a 28 year old strutting my stuff - OK to my human readers I'm  a 4 year old but that's enough of that!  So above is my Mum Saffie, me, my brother and my sisters. Us pups are 4 weeks old and you guessed it, that's me on top! I have to admit that my Mum looks a bit tired! Can't think why!!!

Once again, I'm the pup on top!

Here you see me selecting my manservant by an irresistable lick of the cheek.

Four weeks have passed and I arrive at my new estate. The Tippex on my right ear was to make sure the true chosen one (Me) was escorted to the appropriate home. I'm behind bars for no crime that I can think of!

Much of my puppyhood was spent sleeping. Piggy actually survived for three years! Despite starting my slumbers thus, I always ended them ...

Thus!

Ah how I enjoyed the game of grooming. The object to make a five minute job last twenty and bite as many fingers as possible.

And as with all games, several half time breaks are needed for a snooze!

              And so I enter my adolescence hanging out on the step, catching a few rays, looking cool...

...and dare I say it?...rather handsome!

     Showing Mac and Sam that they're not the only guys who can sit when there's some chicken on offer!

   Feeling rather smug at stealing the conservatory chair for the best place in the sun! I own this chair now!

                                                             AW MUM! GERROFF!

On Art 2

This piece of work, I call "A Portrait of the Archie as a Young Dog". You will notice that I am the subject of the piece and not the artist. My first post "On Art" way back in November 2011, illustrates my more contemporary approach to art and design. The portrait above was taken from a photograph of me running along the sands at Ravenglass in Cumbria. By "sands" I am using poetic licence, for "estuarial mud" would be a better description.

On Another Six Nations Victory

 

 

Well it's two years in a row as Six Nations Champions with a fine 30-3 victory over England. Once again, my Scottish servants await the result of their match against France to see if they can at least walk with their heads held high - in fairness, they've avoided the wooden spoon this year. The Welsh Dragon in the picture, by the way, stands over Mametz Woods on the Somme battlefield where it was a somewhat different sort of victory.

On St David's Day

I tried to time my birth date to coincide with St David's Day but my mother wouldn't wait. Still, it's worked out well as I now have two celebrations in two days. So this is my fifth St David's Day despite me being only four. I must point out however, that I do not eat leeks and I have grown out of digging up freshly planted daffodil bulbs. I would be happier if the day's symbol were a large steak but hey ho, you can't have everything!
Well, whether you're Welsh or not, have a happy St David's Day!