It turns out that if you’re going to eat my bed then you’re going to pay for it. It seems that Aristotle is pooing foam. Now I don’t mean he has foamy poo, that would be a different thing altogether. What I mean is that when he goes to the toilet great chunks of foam keep coming out. He was sick with it as well, which I think serves him right. Our Mistress sees it somewhat differently and says I should show more concern as there are cases where a dog has to be operated on to remove things from its stomach. I know she’s got a point, but just for now I think it serves him right. Our Mistress says she will be much happier when she knows a whole meal has gone through him normally as she knows there is nothing blocking his system. I’m leaving the worrying to her. He did try to apologise and put on his cutest face when he did, but that doesn’t wash with me, even if it does melt our Mistress.
On a much more pleasant note I was videoed while I was swimming yesterday using something called Facebook Live.
I had a really good swim, but then I just feel hungry afterwards and can’t believe that our Mistress won’t double my food ration. If she does more exercise she has an extra biscuit, it should cut both ways. She is letting me test a new snack though so I can’t really complain. No, come to think of it, I can complain it just wouldn’t be very reasonable!
Bye for now
Alfie
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