It’s all my sister’s fault. Just because she doesn’t weigh as much as I do, it’s hardly my fault. For a start I’m a boy and I’m supposed to weigh more. Apparently I am not supposed to weigh quite this much more. I thought I had done very well on my diet the other week and in fairness, it was a nightmare for me. Now it seems I have to do even more. My mistress had only just begun to concede to my demands for a little bit of anything she was having, although I was sick after the pie the other night. I’m not sure if it was shepherd or cottage but either way one of them is indigestible, it may have been the thatching on the cottage or perhaps the overcoat the shepherd was wearing. The long and the short of it is that I am now being denied human food again. Worse still, my mistress has gone to the lengths of checking the weight of a scoop of food using the measure she has. I am only being allowed the amount the packet says. This is not going to be a good time for me, particularly if my mistress insists on eating marzipan in front of me. She did have the decency to shut the door of my room whilst she raided the cupboard earlier, which although frustrating was at least thoughtful on her part. I stood by the hall mirror and thought I looked pretty good. Funny how you can see yourself differently to how others see you. I just see a slim, muscular, handsome puppy. I pointed out one or two of my mistress’s flabby bits when she was getting dressed, just to even things up. Strange to say she didn’t seem impressed. I think she might be in denial.