Will somebody please tell that little Shadow that if I say I don’t want her climbing up onto my Mistress’s bed with me, then I don’t want it. She can’t flash her brown eyes at me and get me to roll over. Ok, so I roll over when we’re playing in the garden, but she’s got to know where to draw the line. As far as I am concerned there are two no-go zones. Firstly, the bed. The blanket on the foot of the bed is my blanket. It is where I sleep at night and I’m not prepared to share. Secondly, there’s the chair in the lounge with my footstool adjoining it. My mistress sits on the chair with her legs on the footstool and then I lie between her legs and go to sleep with my head on her thigh. We can stay like that for hours whilst my Mistress reads a book. There is not room for another Entlebucher to gatecrash my party. I realise that I should be telling all this to Shadow, rather than you, but she doesn’t sit around long enough to listen.
After a longer cycle ride yesterday, my Mistress is struggling to sit down on a hard chair. She says that the bike seat doesn’t have a lot of padding, but I would have thought that her own built in padding would have more than made up for it. To be fair, I didn’t just think that last bit, I might have said it to my Mistress too. She pointed out that was the reason for the diet in the first place.
One piece of good news, the garden has now dried out enough to make it difficult for Shadow to dig. We have a lull in activity on the digging front and my Mistress is hoping that it will be for long enough for Shadow to get out of the habit completely. For my part, I think that is a vain hope.