Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Alfie, Esther, Emma, Ebbe and Eramases, happy birthday to me. Just in case you didn’t know, the others are my brothers and sisters. I’m thinking of my mum today too and hoping she’s ok. I miss her.
Meanwhile on the present front, sadly it seems I was deluded about the door key. Apparently they have no intention of giving me my own. So much for twenty-one being the key to the door, that only seems to apply to humans! I did get a rucksack, so that I can do all the carrying when we go for a walk. I also got a toy that hides my treats and I have to push things out of the way to get one. I’ve never been very good with the other toy like that that I’ve got, why should I be any better at this one? I think it is all just a way to make me lose weight and get fewer treats. Fortunately, I also got some toys I could relate to more easily. A new tug ball, a new rubber chicken that still has a head and a squeak and some bacon strips. I’m particularly partial to the bacon strips. I’d almost forgotten that rubber chicken started life with a head. I wonder how long this one is going to last. I suppose now that I am an adult, I should be moving from toys to the real thing, but I don’t often get chance to chase real chickens and for some reason when I do I get shouted at.
As an adult, I do expect to get taken seriously. I’m past the stage where they can send me to bed because it suits them. I’m at the stage of making my own decisions and if I decide to spend the day in bed, well that’s up to me.