I’ve said I’m sorry, what more can I say? It was all a big misunderstanding. I really couldn’t have known. They all went to see the film ‘Bolt’ without me. It’s a film about a cute dog. So they all want to watch a cute dog that gets separated from its mistress and is faithful to the last, while their own cute and equally faithful dog is sat at home twiddling his paws. I was not to know that my Mistress would spend the entire film thinking of me and me desperate to come home to give me a cuddle and throw a stick for me. I was not to know that she would be sitting there missing me and think I was better than any film dog. I was the one left at home, feeling left out and abandoned and as it turned out distributing the contents of the kitchen bin liberally round the kitchen. Our reunion affection was short lived. She came in and greeted me warmly and then said ‘but how come you came out of the kitchen to the door? You never go in the kitchen while I’m out.’ Damn my predictability. She went straight to the kitchen and all thoughts of a game of fetch with a rope went out of the window. ‘Alfie, go and fetch the dustpan and brush and clear this lot up.’ ‘Who me?’ I tried the big eyed puppy dog bit, but it seems that’s more likely to work for cartoon characters who haven’t rifled the potato peelings. I’m pleased to say that after I had done the clearing up, she did relent and throw my rope, but I did feel a bit bad about it all by then and couldn’t even raise a complaint when she refused to share her cake with me.