Saturday 6th November 2010

Why couldn’t I have gone to Birmingham with my Mistress for the day to escape the madness? Megan is feeling way to playful for me to cope with and Shadow is driving me nuts, yet here I am, in charge and supposed to be keeping the peace. My Master is here too, but he’s the one who has put me in charge. He says he doesn’t understand women so there is no point in him getting involved. Does he really think I’m any the wiser? “Shoes!” I said. Take them out and buy them some new shoes, but he pointed out that as dogs they don’t tend to wear shoes very often. So I guess that rules handbags out as well then. The only other thing I could think of was to have them running races in the garden all day, but I didn’t fancy being outside to supervise them when there was a nice warm bed calling my name inside and my Master said I needn’t look at him to do it either. So instead I’m lying here with my paws over my ears and eyes ignoring the carnage and hoping that when my Mistress comes home later there isn’t too much clearing up to do and certainly no severed limbs to reattach. Annoyingly, Megan keeps trying to get into bed with me and I really don’t want to share the whole time. It’s bad enough in my bed at night, but at least that’s quite a large bed. It’s not so bad if I have got in first and get my fair share, but when Megan gets in first there are always bits of her on my side. I’m a gentledog. I don’t like to move her. I know that makes me my own worst enemy, but it’s more important that I stick to my own standards even if that inconveniences me.