Out for breakfast with my mum today but no food for me. She said 1) I’d already had mine, 2) avocado is a fruit and dogs don’t eat fruit, plus 3) I do not get fed in cafés. But I had lots of fuss and admiration from customers and staff which made up for being starved.
Who could resist my appealing look? Yes, my mum can…
Today it was the turn of Kith and Kin, one of the lovely dog friendly cafés in our town. http://eveogilvie.co.uk
Mum’s away so I have been at boot camp the past week. Mostly had fun: two walks a day, cats that play with me (sometimes even when I’m not feeling playful…) games with the sprog.
Today, however, my Irish aunt said I had to earn my keep and I had to go and work for the day. Boy, wasn’t sure about this but, as ever, I ventured forth with enthusiasm – too much maybe as I got told off for pulling on the lead.
We got to her work and, yes, I remembered the rules:
* 1. Don’t pee on the bags
* 2. Don’t bark at the customers
*3. Only greet a customer if they are dog friendly.
OK, I got it – and whoop, whoop, our day began. Lots of people came and most people gave me loads of fuss and cuddles. This work palaver is a piece of cake! Think I’ll earn my keep more often. Happy days.
I still miss my mum though.
There’s the doghouse then there’s the ultimate doghouse: not being spoken to, in utter disgrace, can’t have pals around any more.
It’s been a sorry week. Blotted my copybook by peeing on a stranger’s bowling bag then overnight I vomited and pooped without a warning bark that I was poorly. She forgave me for that – can’t blame a sick dog, can you – but she was a bit perturbed when she later found another puddle in the same place after the sprog, here for lunch, stood in it. I hadn’t asked to be out.
The clean-up, however, was not over. After lunch my pal Chip and I were playing in the front room when, no idea what got into us*, we had a peeing competition against the floor-length curtains. Screams all round, buckets of detergent, spray stuff and total banishment to the rainy yard for him and me.
My mum wouldn’t look at me for the rest of the day and says I can’t have pals visiting if we behave like street dogs. It could not get any worse. Canis non grata for the forseeable future.
- Truffle’s mum here: presuming this was assertiveness/territorial behaviour. But it’s absolutely not on.
Never known my mum so mad. I’m locked away in the back room with my bed and a bowl of water, no biscuits, no loves.
The morning didn’t start well: my mum isn’t sleeping cos her back is hurting so she didn’t appreciate my enthusiastic greeting. Or pulling on the lead. Or trying to cross the road ahead of her. Or losing my Chuck It ball. Or getting sticky stuff on my head.
No, I kept the best till we arrived at the bowling green. I’ve done a few runs then decide I need to relieve myself – against someone’s bowling bag. If my mum hadn’t shrieked I doubt if any of the players would have noticed. She was incandescent.
I was marched home peremptorily. As we walked back it started to rain. I expect that will wash the bowling bag…
Sticky stuff on my head.
I need a trim, says my mum. AGAIN??? Yes, I can tell by the hair sprouting out of your paws, she says. Luckily, because there’s not too much regrowth and she’s getting the hang of it, we were done in about ten minutes.
It’s very hot today so she waited until the sun had moved then set to. Even so, she was boiling by the time she’d finished so we retreated inside. The cats have been indoors all afternoon, snoozing on human beds. I’m not allowed to do that, huh, not even with all that hair removed.
Truffle wants to go for his walk!
We had a street party yesterday. I love parties – I get lots of fuss and treats. It was very hot so my mum put bowls of water out for me and George, the shar pei from down the street. We were out all day so by the end I was completely bushed, couldn’t keep my eyes open and missed hot dogs from a barbecue. Can’t imagine how hot they were!