A bored senseless Miss Rosie,on the cusp of an artist's typical tantrum awaits her dullard old fool of a chauffeur

I’ve mentioned bonkers but lovely Rosie, the now 7 month old, ever bouncing puppy in this blog previously. What I hadn’t been aware of was her consummate piano skills…a virtuoso if there ever was one…until she’d paid a visit to my musician son’s…George by name…domain. Herewith, a video revealing Miss Rosie tickling the ivories, an event that has canines across the globe in raptures.  

Below, my favourate settee of all time that I wish she’d leave alone…some hope…as she feasts on furniture of all kinds when engrossed in composing a new symphony.

Next a snap of our bona fide maestro in deep thought, seeking inspiration for her next piano symphony. I should perhaps add, George tells me his herd of guitars, be they electric or acoustic, scare the living daylights out of her for reasons unknown…a matter of taste, perhaps?

Lastly, one of George’s numbers, ‘One Man Band’ that Rosie is not too keen on! I wonder why?

Anyhow, while I’m here, my latest book, ‘MAYDAY’, should it be of interest, this tome is available in the UK and way beyond these shores via AMAZON. ‘Tis for FREE on KINDLE UNLIMITED, alternatively just £3.29 on regular KINDLE or, if the PAPERBACK takes your fancy, a mere, £6.99 or equivalent outside of the UK.

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62 thoughts on “MISS ROSIE, THE VIRTUOSO

    1. She certainly is a cute little puppy…when not playing the piano she is an accomplished thief of our clothing, be they my socks or dear Shirl’s knickers etc. I love the way she runs off with such garments, always looking over her shoulder…like a cartoon character…knowing full well what she’s done. Generally, when she thinks it safe, she hides away and tears each item into shreds! We still love her though. My thanks you read this piece. Regards, The Old Fool

      1. She seems like a terrible but loveable little dear. I don’t have dogs anymore but had one when I lived in a house with a garden. I did not catch up on all your writing but will do it time permitting. I am just so busy that I don’t even have time to write and all the stories cramp up my head.

      2. My thanks, Geetha. ‘Tis hard to find time to write with puppy Rosie seeking constant attention, yet soon she will settle down, hence I understand your plight. In fact, whatever the reason, peace and quiet is what we all need. As to Rosie herself, she loves everyone, be they canine or human…maybe she loves too much. Regards, The Old Fool

      3. You never love too much, not even Rosie. I think we need more love going around and yes, peace and quiet too. Keep writing. I love the wry humour and the imaginative descriptions. Be well!

  1. Now Ollie wants me to buy him a piano! (He wouldn’t enjoy those guitars either. Imagine having hearing around 40 times more powerful than ours, and you can understand that. )
    Best wishes, Pete.

    1. Putting the piano aside, there’s nothing quite like watching a puppy evolve. This little gal is getting better by the day, yet still remains excited in the company of both human and dog…she can’t help herself; overly friendly always. My thanks, Pete and best regards, to you, yours and Ollie

    1. My thanks, young Dale. Sadly, of late, we’ve had to cover said sette as ‘sweet’ Rosie had begun the eating of furniture process again! We love the little maid dearly, yet almost pray for her to grow up. Only this day she was spotted as she deciding which car tyre to scoff. ‘Tis a joy watching her; an expence when she starts to eat such things.

      1. I cannot tell you just how blessed we were with Zeke as a puppy. He attempted to gnaw on the foot of my table but was easily discouraged and destroyed nothing else but his toys, which we stopped buying him because, as you know, plastic is comprised of petrol… once petrol has gone through the digestive system, it comes out as tar… not fun to scrape up off the floor, tell you what.
        I am so very sad to hear of the demise of that lovely cover…

      2. I think for Zeke read Rosie. They sound the same. We’ve also had to re-fill her toybox ridding it of any and all plastic. Talking of said toybox, every morn, first thing, she takes every toy out, has a good think, keeps the few toys she fancies for the day, then puts the rest back in the box. It’s her morning ritual. I love looking on.

      3. Oh, how wonderful is Rosie! Zeke didn’t have any toys after the plastic fiasco. He didn’t seem to want to play with anything, really. And he never barked and never chewed anything he was not supposed to. He was perfect. I miss him so.
        I love that Rosie puts the unwanteds away!

      4. It sounds to me that Zeke…great name, by the way…was, as you say, perfect. ‘Tis awful when we lose our dogs. 6 years ago we lost poor old Skipper, and Shirl announced she’d never again be able to go through the torture of the said lose. She’d had dogs every since she was 3 years old, yet couldn’t take it anymore. Rosie came along when I, in late summer gone, the worse for red wine, depressed over my then debatable illness, along with the ongoing stress of the theft of my EU citizenship born of British morons and ‘we don’t want them here’ racists. Whatever, out in the garden that evening, peering over Shirl on her iPad I spotted the ad for the sale of a host of puppies, 5 males and 1 female. The female struck me as delightful. We agreed we’d have her. Sober the next day, I thought ‘what the hell have I done’. Yet I’d agreed, hence so be it, the best thing I’d done for an age, for on that ‘next day’ the deal was done. The rest is history. Rosie’s happy; so are we.

      5. Zeke – my choice of name, so thank you – was more than I could imagine. He became mine, though he was for Mick after I lost (so happily) my job and started taking long walks with him. He then saw me through the horrid time after Mick’s death. Such a kind and gentle soul. So, like Shirl, I am still of the mind of “never again”. You, however, the fates have decided otherwise. Methinks Rosie came along when you both needed her 🙂

      6. Three cheers for Zeke. Good dogs, like him, seem to know when we need them most. You’re bang on when saying, ‘…Rosie came along when you both needed her’. May all that’s good in this world be with you. Best wishes, TOF, Shirl and the monster but lovely Rosie.

    1. My thanks. Little Rosie the bonkers puppy has, I believe, saved what’s left of my sanity. The corona virus; the stupidity of Brexit; the ongoing irksome illness that won’t kill me, yet I’m stuck with, combined were getting me down. Not anymore, because of her…even though, looking out from the window, I see she’s just this very moment hurtled across the garden with my new bamboo socks in her mouth, no doubt to be shredded before I catch her.

    1. My thanks. Young Rosie is, as you rightly say, absolutely adorable. She sleeps 10 hours a night; cuddles like an angel in love; yet she is a cunning thief and knows it. She makes us laugh whenever she purloins our clothing…generally my wife’s knickers, socks, slippers…then, running off down the garden at a formidable pace she always turns her head back to establish who might be following her…not unlike a cartoon character. We find it hard to tell her off, she’s that lovely. Regards, The Old Fool aka TOF.

    1. A clever gal, that’s for sure. Was it The Times or The Sun she read? I should add that Rosie has just painted an Abstract work of art and is presently penning her new novel. Regards, The Old Fool

  2. TOF, I think that was a fugue Rosie was playing. George’s music is fab!
    Of course for a budding virtuoso of the classical type, it’s probably just so much racket.
    Rosie is so sweet!

    1. Most of the time, Rosie is a diamond gal. At coming up to 9 months old she can cause a ‘me, me. me’ tantrum, yet we love her still…she has character. Regards, TOF

  3. Reblogged this on Commentary, Outrages, Prose and Poetry and commented:
    Thanks, Mike – or should I type ragged cheeman? – for the Roisie pics and commentary. I not only will reblog, but terrorize my few able-to-read facebook admirers – of the 2,200+ I am, and have been for just ages followed by but 37 poor, desperate fools. Maybe one with a spare shekle or seven will fork over for MayDay? Or, perhaps, find other venues and make mine but 36. Cheers. And to Shirl and Rosie and of course George.

      1. Tell you what, Philip, young Rosie I just learned, has gnawed her way through three pairs of sunglasses…much to my missus’s anger. I can only presume Rosie was seeking a a bit of panachethe wearing specs for the stage performance with Nora…not that the missus agrees!

      2. That’s not the end of her antics. Oh no. When we first had Rosie back in early autumn she succeeded in braking into my missus’s wardrobe and stole her knickers…3 days in a row…leaving them shredded at the end of the garden. Then, of course. there was the day of my slippers gone to where I’ll never know. Perhaps her ‘best’, aside from my mobile phone destruction, a fine collection of my new-fangled bamboo socks, part eaten; part ripped to shreds. Still, she’s getting a lot better, we love the little monster dearly. We wanted to get kitten when Rosie arrived…I was bought up with cats…yet the road outside our house is a tad too busy for my liking. A shame in many respects.

      3. I understand that problem well. I live near to major roads, so I decided Andy and his late brother Dougy would always be inside cats. Dougy tried to be an outside kitty – a very curious cat, he – but I managed to catch him every time but one. Fortunately, that one time proved to be a good lesson for my kitty boy because he’d never spent hours in the bitter cold before, and he did that time he slipped past me!

      4. The inside cat, looked after well like you do, from my experience is always a fine cat…people friendly…adapting to a safe way of life, and enjoying themselves. Good on you, Sir. A pity…sometimes…dogs insist upon marathon walks…like we’ve just done with her, and she’ll want another walk at precisely 3pm, even though she hasn’t got a watch!

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