I am visiting my grandparents and it really is rather fun. I have got over thinking the stone heron was real and am thoroughly enjoying chasing round the garden helping my granddad with the gardening. My mistress gave me the choice of going out with her for the day and spending most of my time sitting waiting in the car or staying to play with my granddad. All I can say is that it was not a very difficult decision. I am not allowed to sit on the settee or sleep on their bed but apart from that it is pretty much ideal from a dog’s point of view. Its funny being in the house my mistress grew up in and playing in the same garden. It’s a shame her tree house has gone I would have liked to try and climb a rope ladder to get to it. The best bit about the garden is the oak tree on the front, it reminds me of my home in Belgium and of course means I can snaffle one or two acorns to supplement my diet.
There are so many places I am not allowed to go in England, so much for it being a nation of ‘dog lovers’. I’m not even allowed to go into the motorway service stations, they pretend to be nice by putting a bowl of water at the entrance for dogs to drink from but what about my burger and chips? I don’t want to have to eat outside all the time. I’m not allowed in restaurants either. I think Belgium is much more tolerant than England, it makes me proud to be able to say I’m Belgian. Having been away for a couple of weeks, I am starting to really miss my home. It will be nice to get back, even if I don’t understand the language so well.