Sleeping
Shh I’m sleeping! Obviously not right at this minute, I’m clearly writing to you now, but these days most of the time I’m sleeping. Why is that? Why when we get old do we sleep so much? It seems to go in steps. One day you need sixteen hours a day and then the next thing you know it’s twenty. Our Mistress said I seem to be vying with my grandparents for who actually wants to sleep the most. On the bright side, it does mean our Mistress is getting a bit more sleep in a morning although I do still want to go out at 5am. It seems life really is a circle. As a puppy you sleep and eat and then gradually spend a bit more time awake. You can’t go through the night without peeing and you need a lot of reassurance. Then you grow up and all that changes. Then finally you go back to a second puppyhood but without the cuteness.
Still cute
To be fair, our Mistress tells me I’m still as cute as ever and gives me lots of cuddles. She says I look dignified in my old age. That’s something you wouldn’t say about a puppy. Oh no, hang on a minute, Aristotle was quite a dignified puppy. Anyway, now for the life of me I can’t actually remember the point I was trying to make. I think that goes with age too.
Autumn with a touch of heat
You can look out of the window at the moment and for all the world it looks like autumn. It’s only when you go outside you realise how warm it is. Our Mistress keeps making the mistake of putting a sweatshirt on and then regretting it. We don’t know whether to start growing our winter coats or moulting some more of the ones we’ve got. I dread to think what the plants must be thinking. The trees are looking a bit tired and jaded, but the leaves are still hanging on in there. Maybe it will brighten up again. I’d like it to in case it’s my last summer. We all feel that bit better when the sun comes out.
Alfie
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