You can call me soft and I am prepared to admit to a certain amount of molly-coddling, but the maximum temperature this week is forecast to be 3 degrees Celsius and I think I might already have frostbite. I have asked for some little boots to keep my feet warm when I go outside but all my mistress has said is “You are a mountain dog, you should be fine.” Now I’m not one to go correcting her but has she looked around this area of Belgium? I may by breed have the word ‘mountain’ in my general description, but we live in Belgium and as far as I can tell it is flat. What’s more I have grown up enjoying my home comforts and I prefer to curl up on the duvet than to herd cows. That last bit may not be strictly true, I’ve never had the chance to herd cows, I suspect I might rather enjoy it. Anyway, what is unquestionable is that it is cold outside and my little paws aren’t used to it. It has gone from being just ‘ordinary cold’ with squelchy mud to ‘properly cold’ and the mud being in hard ridges that on the bright side mean I don’t need my paws wiped quite so often. I wonder if Santa could bring me a set of four paw sized Wellington boots, with fur linings. I think I could last the week if that were the case. For once I hope my mistress reads my diary and takes the hint, just in case Santa hasn’t got time to read it at the moment. I think my mistress is too busy trying to sort out the breach of copyright on some of her work, which is illegally being displayed on a website. What makes it worse is that it hasn’t even been credited to her as author, she is not happy.