Saturday, 7 November 2015


I am keeping an eye out for those dog nappers that sneaked through the village recently.  Did you see the rotters late that night?  They pinched two of my friends and made off with them in suspicious looking vans.  The doggie door locks were found on the ground and their rooms were bare – honestly, you are not safe in your own bed any longer.  I had a good smell round but couldn’t pick up their scent.  The Mrs put the word out over the ether after seeing a message from my canine friend’s distraught owners.  We figured if we made the little doggies too hot to handle they might well be set free and thankfully as it turned out, they were later found abandoned in Vyne Wood and kindly returned to their owners.  I have yet to get together with them for a good chin and tailwag to get the low down on their unfortunate adventure.  The Boss gave me a good talking to about stranger-danger which I will pass on to the miniatures if they ever get round to sitting still long enough for me to talk to them.  Every time I get near enough to have a tickle, scratch and chat they run round in circles, screaming, holding their noses and calling me Pongo!  I don’t think they appreciate my delicate canine perfume – nor does the Mrs as I have had several hose downs in the garden this summer while that small furry spitty thing sits nearby smirking and cleaning herself for the millionth time.  Never have I seen an animal spend so much time prinking and preening.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder so she obviously feels the need to continuously improve her looks as every time she walks past the mirror she nearly jumps out of her skin, whereas I am confident I pass muster and get by with a lick and a promise, except when the Mrs has that hose pipe pointed at me.

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