Well diary today I am 11 weeks old. Is there a party? Is there a cake with candles? Is any fuss being made? No. Perhaps 11 weeks isn’t considered a special birthday to humans. I have had to make do with my own private celebration!
The question came up yesterday, ‘what am I going to do when I grow up?’. I was a bit nonplussed by this. When you say ‘do’ what exactly did you have in mind? I thought maybe sleep on the couch, chase a few cats, bark at the postman. You know, generally the sort of thing that every puppy aspires to when he becomes an adult. No, it seems my owner has in mind that I should earn my keep. This is going to take a bit of thought clearly. If I really have to work for a living I guess ‘stud dog’ sounds the most fun or how about a film star, like Lassie? For either of those I would have to study hard and pass lots of tests, so I’ve gone back to the drawing board.
I have learnt to climb up the first 5 steps of the staircase and what’s more can get back down. My owner seems a bit concerned as there are no backs to the stairs and I keep poking my head through to have a look. I tell her it’s not the looking that causes the injuries so much as the falling! And if I don’t learn to climb them, how precisely am I going to write my diary when I am an adult dog, given that my computer is upstairs? I can’t really see my owner carrying all 25kg of dog up and down stairs just so I can use the computer when I choose. She has suggested putting in a wireless network so I can use it downstairs but that would spoil the fun.
Well I’m off to carry on reading my book, it’s a bit warmer in front of the fire. On reflection perhaps my owner did do something nice for my birthday. I had ‘accidentally’ torn half of Miffy’s ear off, and she did kindly sewed it back together so that I can do it all over again!
Alfie with a little help from Rosemary J Kind