As you can probably imagine, by the time My Mistress came home from her trip to Crufts yesterday she had acquired some very interesting smells. I tried very hard to get her to stand still for me to have a food sniff, but she would insist on keep moving. ‘You’ve been near a Newfoundland’ I said to her indignantly. ‘It wasn’t as cute as me was it?’ She promised me that none of the dogs had been as cute as me and that I had nothing to worry about. She wouldn’t be working to develop our breed in this country if she was going to be as fickle as that. I suppose she’s got a point, but even I can see how cure some puppies are. She brought me back a toy, so it wasn’t all bad and we sat down so that she could tell me all about it, but every time she started being serious I pushed my nose into her sleeve or her leg to see whether I had got all the scents yet.
My Mistress could hardly be described as normal. Most women have shopping lists that say things like ‘new pair of trousers’ ‘new blouse’. My Mistress has a shopping list that says ‘puppy carrier, dog fencing, rabbit hutch, kitchen, bathroom, paint, ironmongery,’, still it’s keeping her happy having to find everything. She has set her heart on a purple kitchen, now all she has to do is convince my Master that it’s a good idea. She’s wishing now that she hadn’t given in so easily on the wall lights in the dining room, she could have used them as a tool to negotiate.