It’s an all-dog post today, before we drift back to some stupendous weird art and illustrators. We present some of the greydogs pack, and offer you

A Morning With: J Linseed Grant

Being a writer isn’t all about exciting awards ceremonies and expensive yachts. Today we are delighted to be joined by man-about-town, fashion icon and millionaire recluse, J Linseed Grant, who shares with us some insights into his whirlwind life.

The author of the notorious dark-horror novel ‘Sandra’s First Pony’ (currently under investigation by three separate Congressional Committees), Mr Grant spoke to us at his palatial North Yorkshire mansion. We asked him to outline a typical morning with his beloved hounds. The hounds themselves, Django, Chilli and Twiglet, have not been named for legal reasons…

(A note for delicate listeners: We have to admit that the following tale of terror might be entirely true, unlike some of our usual  bunkum.)

0845. Whine whine whine. Longdogs are bored. Try to go back to sleep with pillow over head.

0900. Whine whine whine. Longdogs are still bored. Push one or more dogs off the bed, get up. Go downstairs, tread in pee patch. Incontinent labrador.

0910. Sit at computer with pint of tea. Adobe plug-in has crashed. Check e-mails sent out at 0230hrs (under influence of Spitfire Ale) for libellous comments, wrong e-mail addresses etc. Ring solicitor to say she may be earning extra this week.

0920. Lift tea to lips. Bark bark bark. Incontinent labrador needs helping down stairs. Due to dodgy vertebrae of both participants, perform morning ritual of kneeling on each step and letting dog tumble down in stages. One or both of us hits head on front door.

0922. Whine whine whine. Longdogs think sound at front door is signal for going out. All rush downstairs. Step in pee again. Go up to get shoes. Longdogs think this is also signal for going out. All rush upstairs. Bark bark bark. Incontinent labrador thinks I am going back to bed, wants to come up as well. Gets excited, pees herself.

0930. Take everyone downstairs again. Mail has fallen in pee. Mop up pee. Put mail on radiator to dry.

0940. Cup of tea is cold. Adobe plug-in has crashed, Windows 7 no longer recognises sound card. Restart everything. Put tea in microwave. Microwave is full of raw minced chicken defrosting for dogs. Bark bark bark. Labrador wants to go into garden. Trip over labrador.

0950. Start writing.

0955. Stop writing when remember that greydogtales was supposed to go out this morning. Find that I have saved most pieces in the wrong folders, and lost half the article. Search folders with increasing sense of despair.

1005. Whine whine whine. Longdogs want to go for a walk. Tell them I am master here and they will have to wait. Put kettle on for hot cup of tea.

1007. Going insane due to high-pitched whining noise penetrating entire house. Take dogs out.

1115. Get back plastered in mud, with soaking wet shoes. Go upstairs to change. Bark bark bark. Labrador thinks it is nap time. Try to go to toilet before labrador starts climbing the stairs herself. Too late. Abandon toilet. Turn labrador around half way up, tumble down step by step. Hit head on door. Longdogs think we are going out again. Whine whine whine.

1135. First hot cup of tea. An unknown computer error has occurred. Also, unwanted McAfee Anti-virus programme now using all CPU memory. Woman phones to say she is not selling anything. Tell her that I am, and she rings off.

1140. Whine whine whine. Male longdog thinks it is lunchtime. Bark bark bark. Labrador believes him. Gets excited, pees herself. Man knocks at door offering to cut our trees down. Go to door, trip over labrador. Tell man I have less money than he has. Would he like to buy a short story? Man leaves.

1155. Start writing.

1200. Realise I am editing wrong version of story. Find right one filed with missing blog pieces, note on cost of Edwardian cutlery and photograph of a sea-cucumber. Can’t remember why that’s there.

1205. Londogs, bored again, pull stuffing out of armchair and throw it all over living room. Labrador looks as if she has been wading through deep snow. Pick up stuffing. Uncover and brush down labrador. Count number of legs etc.

1220. Start writing.

1225. Back hurts from moving labrador up and down stairs. Lie on floor, am joined by three dogs who think this is game. Try using computer pad to write on. Battery too low. Something I don’t recognise has crashed. Male longdog sits on me. Whine whine whine. He thinks this game is boring.

1240. Stand up. Trip over labrador. Bark bark bark. Labrador is hungry. Now both longdogs think it is lunch-time. Whine whine whine.

1245. Try to check e-mail. Adobe plug-in has crashed. Optical mouse full of dog hair. Restart everything. Abandon cup of tea and give to labrador.

1255. Another productive morning is over. A fatal error has occurred in my writing career. Sob sob sob.

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And that’s why so many children these days dream of being writers and owning dogs. What can being a fire-officer or an astronaut offer in comparison to the thrills of a career with longdogs, lurchers and other monsters?

On greydogtales before Christmas: Cracking features on renowned illustrator and writer John Coulthart, and on the talented Danish folk-lore artist Jorgen Bech Pedersen. We might pack in some more bits over the festive period if we have the energy left…