The bedroom door has been closed. There I was, after breakfast as usual, going to lie on the bed and I found the door closed in front of me. Well I wasn’t standing for that so I marched off down the landing to find my mistress. “Why have you closed the bedroom door?” I asked. “Is it some sort of mistake?” I was none too thrilled when I was told that it was entirely deliberate and that unless I could remember to wipe my paws on the way back into the house, and then stay on my blanket on the foot of the bed, the door would remain closed. But I like it at the pillow end. I can get much more cosy if I really snuggle down there than if I stay on the foot end where my blanket is. I did have an unfortunate incident with some muddy pawprints yesterday. They sort of accidentally came off all over the covers and showed exactly where I had been, but I did say sorry. Admittedly I only said sorry after my mistress had had to move to make enough room to get under the covers and was alarmed not just about the pawprints but about the amount of loose mud that seemed to accompany them. I can’t help it if mud falls off as it dries.
It turns out that my mistress is going away for a couple of days to Birmingham. When she told me, my heart sank. “Please tell me I haven’t got to go to another city so soon,” I said. Fortunately, as it turns out she isn’t taking me and I get to lead a doggy life for a couple of days with Spencer, which to be honest is much more my idea of fun than a city.