Hi everyone, I thought I’d look right back to the early days today. It turns out that that was when poor Alfie was deprived of his ability to be a dad. I don’t think he’ll be pleased to be reminded of it!
2006
There are two ways of dealing with having an operation. My way was to be quietly nervous, whimper a bit when I saw the needle and mutter to myself as it took effect and I started to doze off. My mistress on the other hand spent her morning shaking and then while I had my operation went and cheered herself up with an endless stream of coffee meaning she was bouncing off the ceiling by the time she picked me up. By the time I knew much about what was going on it was the afternoon and I was home again. They told me I would feel a little bit like being drunk, which of course I had nothing to compare it to. All I can say is if that is what feeling drunk is like I don’t know why people do it. I kept walking into things and felt all wobbly. It was a very odd sensation.
Now being a dog I have undertaken a very thorough investigation and it seems there really is now less of me than there was before. It all feels a bit strange to be honest.
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Then this made me smile from the following year. I know how he felt.
2007
Happy to be home just doesn’t cover it! Bouncy, barky, running round like a mad thing might just about sum it up. You can call me neurotic if you want to, although I would rather you didn’t, but I don’t like cities. I don’t like the loud noises, particularly the ones that happen just near where you are concentrating on going to the toilet. I don’t like the traffic and I don’t like not having grass under my paws. There were some up sides of holiday, principally the constant companionship of both my master and my mistress but there were down sides too. Home is where you can work your way off your blanket onto the rest of the bed without being told off. Home is where you can rely on mealtimes being in the same place as well as at the same time. Home is where you get to spend time off the lead. Unfortunately, home is also where you don’t get fed steak and chips under the table or find a wider adoring public coming to coo over you. I wonder if there would be any possibility of working on those last two and making it absolutely perfect?
Anyway, have a lovely Friday
Wilma
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