Nose to the grindstone today, a full shift as a working dog. I get to meet loads of customers and I had a really important job this morning when cash arrived and I stood as security guard while it was counted and put in the safe.
I take these duties very seriously and am justly rewarded. I had chicken for breakfast (don’t tell Marley Cat who lurves chicken and will be angry he missed out) and was paid in full with a lovely new toy. Think I’ll take him home cos he may not be there the next time I’m in the shop.
Okay, I wasn’t too keen on it when my mum first presented me with a new chew toy but I thought I’d probably get to like it eventually.
No chance – it’s broken! How did that happen? One minute I’m chewing as instructed and the next it’s in two pieces and my mum says it’s ruined cos the ends are sharp and the ball thingies may get stuck in my throat. Not fit for purpose, I reckon if it couldn’t last a day. Maybe one of the cats sabotaged it while I wasn’t looking.
Actually I like soft toys best; ripping them to bits has to be my favourite thing.
That cat has got some nerve! Mum brought me a new tuggy rope and I had a great time playing with her. I slowed down, went for a nap and when I woke up I was astonished to find that Marley had commandeered it and was having his own fun. Is nothing sacred, nothing precious, nothing really mine in this house? He sleeps on the furniture (I’m not allowed), steals my food and now he’s playing with my toys. What’s a dog to do?