Nicknames and tails - the things I get called you would not believe. Bert the Bouncer I quite enjoy as I have perfected the art of jumping vertically without touching or landing a paw print on the Boss or Mrs. This usually occurs first thing in the morning when I am extremely happy to see them (breakfast is on the way) and if I bounce high enough I can see through the kitchen window. I live in fear of a rendition of Dirty Bertie from No. 30 as I know that sometime within the next few hours I will be taken to the white room for a shampoo and shower. Sometimes I am Pierre-Auguste Bertoir when my tail paints willowy branches on creamy backgrounds (the Mrs mackintosh) and swimmingly wet trails of waves on walls in wet weather. For the record I can also break an elegant wine glass full of red liquid cleanly in two, crash tea cups full of the healing drink to the floor in a minute and wipe tears from the faces of miniatures in seconds and all with a swipe of my magnificent tail. I am very proud of my tail, its elegant lines tapering to a fine point. In the mornings while I am waiting to bounce, I suck it, a bit like the latest miniature who sucks her fingers, lip and anything within easy reach. When the Mrs comes down in the morning and feels my wet tail she calls me Baby Bertie, I ask you. Talking of fine points, I have heard tell of the miniatures father once practicing his barbering skills on one of my predecessors whose fine tapering tail ended in a blunt bob and finished his detailed tail painting for quite some time, a sad 'tail' if ever I heard one.