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!
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