Happy to be home just doesn’t cover it! Bouncy, barky, running round like a mad thing might just about sum it up. You can call me neurotic if you want to, although I would rather you didn’t, but I don’t like cities. I don’t like the loud noises, particularly the ones that happen just near where you are concentrating on going to the toilet. I don’t like the traffic and I don’t like not having grass under my paws. There were some up sides of holiday, principally the constant companionship of both my master and my mistress but there were down sides too. Home is where you can work your way off your blanket onto the rest of the bed without being told off. Home is where you can rely on mealtimes being in the same place as well as at the same time. Home is where you get to spend time off the lead. Unfortunately, home is also where you don’t get fed steak and chips under the table or find a wider adoring public coming to coo over you. I wonder if there would be any possibility of working on those last two and making it absolutely perfect?
I did meet two very nice girl dogs whilst I was on holiday but even for holiday romances they were all too brief. Daisy was staying at the same hotel in Avignon and did come to my room to play for a few minutes, which was tremendous fun. I didn’t even get to know the name of the girl at the hotel on Thursday. To be more accurate she was a Belgian dog and I didn’t understand her accent when she told me. At least Daisy was English which made communication that much easier.
I’m off for another run round the garden just to check it hasn’t moved whilst I wasn’t looking.