Cockerel
Oh it’s all right for the cockerel. He crows first thing in the morning and people just think it’s his job. No one says, ‘Shut up, cockerel,’ or ‘Go back to bed, cockerel.’ No one complains if he keeps going. No! They just think he’s enthusiastic about his work. When I perk up at that time of the morning do I get any thanks for it? No, not at all. It doesn’t matter that Shadow starts it. She’s Daddy’s golden girl. It’s me that gets told off for joining in and not stopping. I get no thanks, no congratulations for preventing them oversleeping. It really is not fair at all. The least I should be offered is extra breakfast for having tried so hard.
Italian Cooking
The humans spent yesterday learning to do some Italian cooking. Yet again, injustice. Not only was I not asked if I would like the opportunity to learn how to make pasta, but I didn’t get to eat any of what they made! It is starting to occur to me that these holiday things are all one sided. We’re invited along but not with any real intention of taking our views into account. We just have to tag along and behave ourselves. Then they wonder why we rebel. I’m only going to stay quiet about these things for so long. Then I’m going to entertain myself by pretending to defend my territory or warding off anyone who come too close. Apparently scaring people is not an acceptable form of entertainment, but I have to say I do occasionally get a lot of satisfaction from it.
Wine Tasting
On a similar note I was not invited to the wine tasting. Why ever not? I’m not averse to a lap of wine if my Master leaves his glass in an accessible position. I should correct that, I was invited by the person whose vineyard it was, it was Mum who said I couldn’t go. It’s not like the fact I’m not supposed to drink it most of the time is a good excuse as she doesn’t either. She said that she wanted to buy some of their olive oil instead. That’s the thing with humans, they always seem to have an answer when you point out you’re being unjustly treated.
Now we’re setting off in the car again and have to reach today’s destination before the football starts this afternoon. Perhaps it’s time for Mum to start driving like the Italian drivers or let me take over.
Love
Wilma
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