Killjoy

Mum can be such a killjoy. She has been round the garden collecting all the bits of stick and putting them out of my way. Apparently, totally ignoring the fact that she has told me several times to stop eating them just wasn’t ok. Anyway, I really don’t know why she bothers. By the time I’ve pulled up a few more plants and taken branches from trees which are still supposed to be growing, she’s going to really wish she’d just left me to it. Shadow and me playing tug with a branch and getting a bit carried away was probably the last straw. We nearly broke a young cherry tree and Mum got a bit cross. If she will go planting things where they are in our way, what does she expect?

Bone Hunt

The good news is that if we’re good, Mum has said we can have an Easter bone hunt tomorrow. I’m a bit concerned by that little word ‘if’, as it gives far too much room for interpretation. I asked if she could be rather more specific, but it seems that is not going to happen. I’m supposed to be good by any measure she chooses to use on the day. Here, I will give you some examples. I must not demand breakfast at 6am. I must not bark at her when I want something. Oh the list is endless. I’m doomed to failure.

Voice recognition

After Aristotle trying the voice recognition software the other day, I thought I’d have a go. It’s amazing. Every time I barked it correctly translated it as ‘hello’. I will use it on Shadow when she’s in a bad mood and doesn’t want to be disturbed and see if it will correctly get ‘Go away, punk, I’m busy.’

Love

Wilma