A dozen red roses. 2 books. 4 bottles of beer. But were any of them presents to me on valentines day? No. No meal out, no doggie bag, no card. I got an extra pat or two and was allowed to spend some of the night lying on my mistress’s feet but that really isn’t the same. It’s bad enough not knowing which house I will be sleeping in from one day to the next, I deserve a little bit extra pampering to make it all more palatable.
You know that feeling when you are away all the time and you can’t remember which side of the room the bathroom is on, well for me that translates to not knowing which door to queue up outside to be let out. Is it the back door or the front door? Should I be asking for my lead and a chaperone or do I go on my own? Will I be accosted by another dog that doesn’t like me? I’ve added a boxer and a border collie to the list of xenophobic dogs I’ve met recently. OK so I peed on the boxer’s front garden but is that any reason to growl at me? I only looked at the border collie. Now I’ve had news we aren’t going to Crufts either, when I thought I was going to have the opportunity of at least seeing some of my own kind. I’m finding this moving lark quite difficult. It’s not helped by the fact that the conjunctivitis hasn’t completely cleared up and I now have antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medicine, fortunately not in eye drop form. I did manage to eat round the antibiotic tablets which worked well as it led to my mistress wrapping them in marzipan to disguise them. The marzipan was a bonus. I did still try to lick it off he tablet but they had become inextricably linked so I gave in in the end.