The cheek of it! I have been accused of being a wimp. Me, brave, fearless Alfie Dog a wimp. I can growl with the best of them, but it seems that really isn’t enough. You aren’t telling me that if another dog plays rough with me I should retaliate surely? Cowering and holding my paw up and pretending to be hurt, seem to me to be the best ways of stopping the trouble escalating and of course in the event of being caught, being able to point to the other dog as the trouble maker. I’m not stupid. If when you spot us I am still growling and looking fearsome then obviously I am the one that is going to be in trouble and we don’t want that now do we? To be honest I am thinking of spending the day licking the wound of my injured pride as I have also been accused of being easily led. It isn’t that at all. If another dog has had an idea that hasn’t occurred to me yet, it would seem churlish not to give it a go. I’m only human after all.
My whole day gets worse when you realise I have also had my food rations cut again. My mistress has weighed how much fits in the scoop and cut down to two scoops morning and night. I’m going to waste away. I did manage to get a Frostie for breakfast, a crisp for lunch and a little bit of marzipan for tea, so I suppose it isn’t all bad. Considering that my mistress has days when she cheers herself up by eating, it does seem mean to place such severe restrictions on me her beloved dog!
The moles are in the lead. They are digging holes faster than we can stamp them down. My beautiful lawn doesn’t look quite so good anymore.