Well Christmas is over, shooting is over and I have been bathed within an inch of my life. Thankfully the tree has been removed from the house so I can relax and not worry about inadvertently lifting my leg as I pass – I know it’s banned indoors but the natural reaction always remains and I have to concentrate on tamping down my natural urges. I don’t want to blot my previously clean record of behaviour indoors as I want to continue being invited in to spend the evening on my cushion in the company of the Boss and the Mrs as they watch TV. I understand that none of my predecessors had this privilege and lived in kennels in the garden, never to step paw inside the two legged abode. I am very proud to be the first and have learnt to keep still and quiet so the Boss and Mrs hardly know I am here.
The only time I forget myself is after they have finished eating Even though I have tried really hard I cannot stop myself from getting up to see if they have left anything on their plates which I could finish for them. The Boss, bless him, tries really hard to eat everything but every so often they have a difference of culinary opinion. He says the Mrs has had a disaster and I get to benefit from what he considers to be inedible, although I note the Mrs has eaten all of hers! She never comments after she has scraped his leftovers into my dish but rushes to purloin the flicker to change the TV from sport to one of her ‘who done it investigations’ which neither the Boss nor I can make head nor waggy tail of. Occasionally during dinner the Boss comments that the Mrs has excelled herself and then I know there will be nothing left on the plates for me and the Mrs will be content to allow sport to remain on the TV. Despite the culinary excellence I much prefer ball games to investigations even though it means no leftovers for me!