Twas the night before Christmas

Mama, being as anti-social as my good self, did all her Christmas shopping online. Nice and easy, a few clicks, and voilà, jobs a goodun.

3 to 5 business days later the good folk of ‘Menkind’ had still not delivered. Mama contacted them, electronically of course, and received a reply to say their company had a been busy yet they would upgrade Mama’s order which would be dispatched forthwith and she would indeed receive her goods the very next day.

The very next day came and went, and still no goods had been delivered. Mama contacted the poor underpaid staff once more yet did not receive a reply. But this was Christmas, everyone was busy, so Mama waited patiently, for one entire hour, on the phone, on hold, until a kindly assistant answered. Now this unfortunate lady had been dealing with complaints all day long so Mama was kindly and once again requested a delivery status. The young lady said the goods would be sent the very next day and Mama would receive her Christmas presents on Christmas Eve. Mama thanked the nice lady yet said she would never again shop with their company, the nice young lady said she would not either. That night Mama received an email to say her goods would not be dispatched and would she like a refund. Mama requested a refund.

It was now Christmas Eve and with only wrapping paper purchased, yet nothing to wrap, Mama went to Bognor Regis to indulge in some last minute Christmas goodwill to spend some hard earned cash and enjoy the festive spirit.

Bognor Regis may well seem an unusual shopping trip destination, but hey, Mama was also going to visit Nannie who lives in the area so it kinda made sense.

The lovely seaside resort of Bognor Regis used to have a poor reputation, Mama would like to point out that this is in fact nonsense, Bognor Regis is not some shabby second rate seaside town, it is in fact the tenth circle of hell.

Having traipsed into every single shady looking shop, apart from one which looked a little unusual and may just conceal some hidden gem waiting to be purchased as a unique and quirky Christmas gift yet the doorway was blocked with some intimidating looking characters, Mama gave up and took shelter in a bleak cafe to get out of the rain.

The place was half empty yet the waitress, who actually looked remarkably like Morticia Adams, guided Mama to a seat rammed right up against another table where two lovely, yet a bit whiffy, older people sat. Mama ordered a cup of tea and pretended to study the menu knowing full well she would not be eating anything but felt strangely obliged to at least pretend. To take her mind off the sound of false teeth clattering around a dodgy burger Mama sipped her tea noisely and concentrated instead on the music blaring from the cafe’s sound system which was playing ‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year’.

Sighing deeply Mama took her phone out of her pocket for further distraction and saw she had received yet another email from that wonderful company Menkind with whom she had purchased Christmas and subsequently cancelled. Bizarrely they had sent Mama a goodwill Christmas message full of hearty cheer to inform her that Christmas would in fact be delivered after all and would arrive today! Ta dah!

Mama paid her bill and left the clientele who were by now picking sesame seeds out of their aforesaid mentioned dentures, and no longer cared about the pouring rain and gale force winds, and decided before visiting wonderful Nannie she would be brave enough to take a peek in the only interesting shop Bognor Regis has to offer. The odd characters hanging around the entrance had disappeared and the goodies inside looked appealing. Mama approached and realised the shop was now in fact closed.

Hey ho, the handmade presents made by the grandchildren were delivered to Nannie and all was well with the world. Mama drove home, avoiding the ‘Police incident, road closed’ Bognor Regis road network and arrived back in sunny Rustington. No delivery had been made. Mama, now wearing her glasses, checked her phone once more and followed the link to DHL and entered the delivery number and pressed enter. DHL responded saying ‘no item found’. The huge and enormously successful Menkind company had messed up yet again.

So, no little quirky gifts would be unwrapped in the morning, no stockings would be filled. Yet the moral of the story … who cares, Menkind may be shocking at business, but mankind don’t need a bunch of materialistic rubbish to enjoy Christmas. Together as a family we will eat, drink and be merry. And be grateful for every little thing that we already have. And young Mr Moussaka, accompanied by Mama, will visit the old folks home where our sister will be working, to spread a bit of happiness to those alone at Christmas.

Final note. In the words of The Pogues, Fairytale of New York, a little message for money making MenKind from my rather marvellous family to yours.

Happy Christmas you arse.




The best news ever in the entire world (well my world anyway)

I will be four years old next month plus it will be my second ‘gotcha’ day anniversary. Half my life as a stray in Greece, half my life as an over indulged beloved family member in little old England. Bonkers.

For my third birthday and first ‘gotcha’ day Mama and Papa let me pick my own present and obviously I chose to make a donation to my first love Ermioni, my very own guardian angel who saved my life by simply loving me.  Give something back, always.

But it didn’t end there as Mama had planned a whole weekend of celebrations. We went on an adventure, it was awesome, and spent a day at THE BIGGEST PET SHOP IN THE WORLD, ‘Paws in the Park’ at the South of England Showground. It was the best day out ever but Papa corrected me and said it was the best day out ever … so far.

And do you know what, he was right.

Next month, when I will be four plus my second ‘gotcha’ day we are going on another adventure. And this time, apparently, it is going to be very, very special indeed. Mama and Papa are looking slightly smug, but they wont let on as this will be a surprise adventure. It will be my birthday after all. I have spent some time contemplating what this ‘special’ surprise may be and I am thinking I may be going to Buckingham Palace to meet my mate Donny T, plus the Queen of course.

Mama told me not to be so ridiculous as there is no way she is going to drive me to London to meet the President of the United States of America.

And then she told me the truth because she is so excited and just couldn’t hold out any longer. Mama and Papa are indeed going to drive me to London. But I will be meeting someone way more important. Another visitor to little old England. A really, really important person … Ermioni, my first love, my guardian angel.

This is Ermioni, right here, with little old me, taken shortly before I began my journey, our final time together. I owe her and her team my life, and next month I am going to see her again. There are no words.



Μοιράσου την αγάπη … Share the love

Super grateful for all the love, proper makes me smile. The local press asked for a photo of me and Mama with my book so they can also share the love. We attempted this, me and Mama snuggled up with said book in hand. Trouble was Mr Moussaka was not impressed with being left out so he refused to get out of shot, result, every photo we got included Mr Moussaka licking my personal area. Not quite the desired photo we were trying to achieve. (You can skip the rest and just scroll down, i.e. watch the video, it’s important to me … ta muchly x)



However, this is what I really want to share. We are all equal yet it’s a tough old rock we all cohabit on.

Thank you to those that have bought my book but being the humble sort of chap that I am all profits will be going straight back to Ermioni and her charity where my journey began. For those I left behind, my little way of giving something back, and your contributions will help make a difference, so feel proud x

10570428_1495172777366921_3566254134521004392_n Editors comment: Get over yourself mutt boy.


twitter ouzothegreek

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Ouzo the Greek … just got published

Ladies and gentlemen, friends, followers and fellow oddballs, those that I have met and those that I have only growled at from afar … here it is, my book by little old me on Amazon.


My rather wonderful American editor, Tamira, said she felt like she was missing a friend when she finished reading it. I am rather touched. Thank you Tamira x

And big it up for all my other friends from around this barking old rock who have asked how to buy a copy. Thank you. Feeling humble  x
Australia – Europe France – Germany
India – Italy – Japan – Mexico – Netherlands – North America Canada
South America Brazil – Spain
United Kingdom – United States

Who’d have thought. Not bad for a three legged dog who found a home.

10570428_1495172777366921_3566254134521004392_n I am also in this book so it is actually worth buying.

RM Me too, me too, me too! Plus Donny T but we’re not supposed to mention that. Oops.

o5 Dedicated to my guardian angel x



With thanks to Who Chains You Publishing

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Saint Valentine

Mr Ouzo the Greek and his sidekick Mr R. Moussaka are delighted to announce their one year bromance anniversary.

On the 10th February 2018 my lil bro moved in. A whole year with my scrummy little bestie. Boy do I love him big time. And the best thing is he loves me too. This bromance is alive and kicking folks.

On the 10th February 2019 ‘MASSIVE MOOSE DAY’ had been written in bold on the calendar, for this was to be a huge day of triple celebrations for the young Mr Moussaka. His one year ‘Gotcha day’; his official ‘I am now 2’ birthday (we don’t actually know his real D.O.B so we blagged it a bit like the Queen); and most importantly our very own ‘One year bromance anniversary’.

Excited? You bet. We could barely wait for the day to arrive.

And so the 10th February 2019 finally arrived and we started the day in a proper manly fashion, as in … we forgot. It’s a boy thing. It happens.

The day started as usual with me, The Moose, the beast from the dark side, Papa and bedhead Mama, traipsing out the door for our early morning sniff walk. The cat accompanies us only as far as the end of the drive and then she climbs in a hedge and awaits our return.

We jog on and see what’s been occurring down the alleyway, I mark my territory in a precarious two legged fashion whilst Mama wrestles last night’s kebab litter out of Mr Moose’s mouth. Once we have finished loitering around trees, bins, verges and hedgerows we head for home but only after a stand off at the pet shop. Me and The Moose both stand and look through the window, as we do every morning, and Papa says, as he does every morning, ‘not today’. Mama, however, said ‘it will soon be Mr Moussaka’s birthday and on that day we will visit the pet shop’. And then Mama remembered. And then Mama made a silent vow to remain silent.

So homeward bound it was where the neighbours make a point of getting up early to peek out their curtains to watch a no eared cat clambering out the undergrowth to greet a three legged Greek dog, plus one, who then casually trot down the driveway together in a harmonious loved up menagerie fashion. Hmmmm.

Once indoors Mama looked at the calendar and then looked at Papa. To be fair it had been a bit of a traumatic week and Mama was off to work so no mentions were made.

Monday 11th February 2019. Mama and Papa announced it was a very special day, Mr Moussaka’s birthday, he was now two years old and one day, plus it was his one year and one day ‘Gotcha day’ anniversary as well as our very own one year and one day ‘bromance’ anniversary. A very special day indeed. Breakfast followed by adventures were to be had. Once us four and three legged family members had been fed and Mama finally finished faffing about in her attempts to achieve a more acceptable appearance we all trotted out again, this time to a café!

I watched the parents stuff their faces whilst The Moose watched an abandoned croissant laying on the floor. A chap came in and kicked the croissant in The Moose’s direction saying ‘that won’t be there for long’, whilst doing a cheesy grin. Mama kicked it back saying ‘it would be there for eternity’ whilst doing a not so cheesy grimace. Mr Moussaka took a deep sigh. Apparently he has a post Christmas waistline to consider. And then we went outside and had our very own doggy bag of bacon. Hallelujah. Crusty continental croissant forgotten, oh, and the waistline.

Next stop the PET SHOP. Best place ever in the entire world. We went and stood outside the door, like we do every morning, and then we went in! We both got a little bit excited and ran over to the good lady folk behind the counter and sat down and wagged our tails. Yup got a treat.

As it was Mr Moussaka’s two year and one day birthday he got to choose a present. He chose an octopus and because I am his bestie he also chose a present for me, a teddy bear. I accidentally removed a limb.

Happy birthdayish Mr Moussaka.

But a triple celebration this was so after a little dog nap we ventured out once more on adventure number three. A bunny rabbit hunt at Highdown Hill.

It was a bit of a trek so I sat down a lot whilst The Moose did a lot of bacon burning, post Christmas tummy and all that malarkey. Thanks to Mama’s earlier timely back pass, with the second hand croissant, there was no need to burn off any extra continental carbs which meant there was much room for a meaty tea, followed later with a supper of mahoosive tripe sticks. At the end of a rather marvellous one year plus one day triple anniversary Mr Moussaka was a tad worn out so retired to his bed with his octopus.


And all was good in da hood.

366 days.

On a random rock spinning through space two chaps just happened to find each other and fall in love.

Happy St Valentine’s Day dudes.


 From a couple of loved up, and not too shabby, second hand mutts x

    10570428_1495172777366921_3566254134521004392_n Editor’s comment: Roses are grey, violets are too, bromance nonsense, I dislike you two.



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Run. Forest. Run.

Today we went to the forest. I love the forest. Mr Moussaka loves the forest. The forest is marvellous.

There are other creatures in the forest, pheasants, rabbits, squirrels, badgers plus our deer friends. The forest is magical.

The forest is magical because … when I am there I forget I am disabled. I just run. Up hill, down hill, mainly off piste, leaping fallen trees in pursuit of all those beasties lurking in the shadows. Excited doesn’t even cover it. Mr Moussaka, my bestie, keeps up with me, yet as the good chap of the comedy duo keeps an eye on the parents (I don’t bother), who stumble over roots and brambles in their own pursuit of me shouting WAIT to no avail. Tis the best fun ever.

On our eventual return to our disabled dog access automobile we came across another family out for a similar jaunt. A muttley crew of allsorts who were equally excited including one chap who was as old as the forest itself with a greying coat and floppy legs. His very own Mama was pushing a buggy for this very chap to get into once his ancient legs could walk no further allowing him to still enjoy the magic of game birds.

Mama looked at Papa, Papa looked at Mama, then they both looked at me whilst considering how much a gym membership would cost because … when I am old and withered I too would still like to visit the forest. Yet when Mama or Papa push me in my wheelchair they will have to run, very fast, up hill and down hill, whilst I whimper and waive my walking stick in the air shouting FASTER as we continue our hot pursuit of all creatures great and small.

Life is magical.

10570428_1495172777366921_3566254134521004392_n Editor’s comment: Chase me and lose another limb buddy boy.



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A little Christmas message from that darned cat

We don’t do family portrait Christmas cards but if we did …


Le Miaow. Peace on earth, goodwill to all men, or these days more batteries not included and gluten free cookies for Santa. Bah humbug.

My predecessor, Felix the Cat, was a super ninja feline chap that once brought home a very special gift on Christmas Day. A whole freshly cooked chicken which he dragged over a six foot brick wall, after stealing it from an unsuspecting family, and then proudly placed it on the back door step. Mama was mortified and secretly wrapped the warm dead beastie in newspaper before burying it at the bottom of the dustbin. Should you happen to know of a family who were once bemused by the disappearance of their Christmas meal circa 1987 in Barnham, West Sussex, Mama says she is truly sorry.

The true meaning of Christmas is simple, love. We are a bit of a motley crew, this oddball family made up of misfits from around the rock, but a family we are. Marketing madness and materialistic nonsense doesn’t really do it for us. Yes, we will all have a little gift to open on Christmas morning, because it is exciting to unwrap a present that someone else has taken the time to think about and give to you. And just as exciting to see the ones you love open a gift that you have chosen for them. But no credit card bills will be rocking up in the January post because you can show someone how much you love them by your everyday actions which are far more valuable than anything money can buy.

The ultimate gift … there are 365 days to the next Christmas, be humble, be kind, and be caring, for every single one of them.

And in this household on 25th December there will be no arguments over left over pigs in blankets, mainly because we are not allowed them after a nasty vomiting episode in previous years.

Final thought, Merry Christmas to my little mate Rudy Moose, aka Mr Moussaka. God bless you little chap. First Christmas dumped in the hound pound as a puppy, second Christmas still in the hound pound, unwanted, third Christmas … one of us young man.

Oh, and he will be spending his first family Christmas sharing the love by visiting the old folks next door on Christmas morning.

A top banana Mr Moose and much better than sitting indoors unwrapping socks, even Jesus never got socks for Christmas, not a good look with sandals.

(And as for three wise men, well that really would be a miracle. Just saying.)

28176020_190037684926141_658578104_n The boys comment: Merry Christmas from all of us to all of you, big love  from the motley, and not too shabby, second hand misfits xxx



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