What’s Going On?

I woke up the other morning and all hell had broken loose. A huge crater appeared behind the house and men in machines were eating sandwiches and drinking tea at every opportunity.

The inside of the house looks like inside of the fluffy one’s beard with bits of  all over the place.


What was worse was the evidence that my enemy, the three-legged cat, had returned and left her mark in the soft concrete that the men put into the hole. What a cheek. It must have been while I was having a well-deserved nap because I didn’t see her.

I did catch a glimpse of a very cocky mouse called Derick who has appeared out of nowhere to chomp on the nuts left for the birds. When the mouse isn’t around the squirrel and the fox are enjoying merry japes in the back garden. There weren’t half as many non-me animals in our vicinity when we lived in Cornwall.

Daisy wheel protection charm

The assistants have scrawled some weird flowers in the concrete. They say they’re to protect the house. Honestly I don’t know why they’d need those when they have me. I am the greatest protector of all – except maybe when it comes to that pesky cat.


Mincing My Words

Why won’t they let me have any mince pies? Apparently the beautiful assistant says the raisins are bad for me. She’s such a pain. No chocolate either. The fluffy one has been stuffing his face with these things and I can’t even have a taste. The world is not fair.

He looks how I feel

Rambling in the New Forest

What a great week end. Despite being cold enough to freeze my tezzies off (if I had any that is) it was divinely sunny, so the assistants organised a trip to the New Forest for a bit of exploration of a site purported to have been used by a group of magicians for a Lammas ritual in WWII to help stop the war. Very interesting.

Along the way we found ‘The Site of the Naked Man’. The fluffy one was looking rather interested in this place and, for awhile there, I thought he was going to get his kit off but thankfully the chill in the air stopped him in his tracks. He was probably worrying about his tezzies dropping off as well.

There were a few tumuli dotted around the area where this ritual supposedly took place and I had much fun dashing around at top speed. The beautiful assistant wasn’t particularly amused when I ran straight into her leg but I thought it was hilarious. I left a massive bruise on her shin – she deserves it for giving me low calorie kibble with my raw meat. I remained unhurt.

The fluffy one would never do that to me – while she was away he was very liberal with the cheese and treats. That may be the reason the BA has got me on this stupid diet.

Reggie Revived

The beautiful assistant was quick to relegate Reggie to the bin after he had an unfortunate interaction with a young dog but, hoorah, the Fluffy one has come to the rescue and saved him from the rubbish tip. Yes, he has lost an ear and his scar is a tad unsightly but he remains available for many more chase games and chewing experiences.

RIP Reggie

I – am – unimpressed. Whilst sniffing around behind the sofa recently I made a terrible discovery. Now as you may know I am not a big toy fan but I do have a couple of favourites – Terry and Reggie. Don’t worry, Terry is fine but …

After a visit by a particularly boisterous young dog recently I noticed that Reggie had disappeared. I presumed he had been stolen but, no, it’s even worse. He has been … murdered. Either that or he’s been to the hairdresser for a bleached blonde Afro.

Felt ball with contents hanging out
Reggie’s new Afro/dead head

Farewell dear friend – it’s off the rubbish bin with you.


Happy Birthday To Me

I’m four year’s old today and all I got for my birthday was another antibiotic carefully hidden in a hash brown, and a rawhide chew stick which was half the size of the one given to Bowji, the guest dog who’s been hanging around like a bad smell all weekend.

Oh yes, he’s a cute whippet lurcher with a happy temperament but he’s in MY house and I’ve not been loving it. He’s not only been playing with Terry the teddy and my squeeky snake, he’s denuded my tennis balls of fur – not that I ever play with them but it’s not the point. He’s doesn’t even get the hint when I try to attack him him and bark at him incessantly – his pleasant demeanor is most annoying.

And why am I on antibiotics? One of my stitches is a little red so they’ve been squirreling tablets into my food for the last few days so my scar doesn’t get infected. I should be having the stitches out in a couple of days,l I hear – that will not be pleasant for the vet. I’m already sharpening my teeth on the rawhide chew so I can take a chunk out of him if he comes near me. I’m a little worried they may get the muzzle out.

And by the way – what’s with those horrible noises all weekend? Fireworks are not cool, they are totally terrifying and I was not impressed.


Stitched Up

Okay, I know you want to see it – here is the massive slice inflicted upon me by my personal vet. It’s pretty huge but hasn’t started hurting much yet. The beautiful assistant won’t let me chew my stitches – she’s such a bitch.


Many of you may be wondering what the nature of my surgery was yesterday. I actually had a weird lump on my tummy area which caused the Fluffy One a certain amount of consternation. I was taken, under duress, to the vet yesterday and they left me there for several hours while I was violated, yes violated by the seemingly friendly Dr T and JoJo the vet nurse.

Oh yes they seem very lovely and friendly on the outside but once I was left alone with them they whipped out a needle and sent me to sleep, only to chop a big hole in my body to remove the aforementioned lump. I woke up with no less than 5 stitches in my abdominal area – most itchy. If I’m good I won’t have to wear the ‘cone of shame’ which is perched on the stairs.

The vet says he doesn’t think my lump was anything serious – YAY!

Something is Afoot

Well, the Beautiful Assistant arrived home yesterday and promptly went to bed for 24 hours complaining about the long flight home from Australia. All seemed to be going swimmingly and I spent most of the time curled up next to her under the duvet.

I thought it was strange that I received no treats after 6pm last night and this morning I discovered why. They’ve gone and left me at the Riverside vets up the road and I am not happy! They’re obviously starving me So he can perform some strange surgery on me – I know not what.

This is not going well
‘You bastards’

Sure, the vet nurse tried to cuddle me and lull me into a false sense of security but I know their game. The minute the BA and the Fluffy One leave, the vet will be rubbing his hands together and whipping his torture implement out to cause agony and distress to my trembling person.

If I ever see those two again there will be trouble.