Secret Diary of Maximilian Thorn aged 15 1/3

December 15, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

Woke up this morning and thought ‘I love my Mum’. I also thought that, although I’ve been updating you quarterly in the past, life moves on and these days I feel it rushing past me at an ever-increasing rate (I’m quite a philosopher, you know, in my spare time), so I’m going to do my diary more often now.  For months I’ve been slithering about in the mud on our walks, so I was really chuffed when the weather turned really cold a week ago and the track froze. Much easier underfoot, I thought, and sure enough, it was, but unfortunately the old soldiers at the back drag a bit and I kept getting home with skinned toes. I have to say it appears to bother Mum more than it does me. She dips my toes in warm water – quite pleasant, but an odd thing to do nonetheless – and then when I lick my sore foot afterwards I can taste salt. I told you my Mum was a bit weird these days. I've a horrible feeling she's losing her marbles [watch it or you'll lose yours - Ed.].

 

Did I mention that, last September, Mum took the delectable Nina to have an operation she called ‘spaying’? It’s supposed to turn her into a middle-aged lass who’s no longer attractive to us boys, but all I can say is – you wasted your money, Mum. I still think she’s gorgeous. She even still had a bit of a season last month so that I had to pee indoors a few times and bark all night. In fact, I seem to find her attractive all the time now and I’ve been finding I wake up several times every night and bark to let her know I’m available when she’s up for it. I think she must be desperate for me really, ‘cos Mum’s making her sleep in the sitting room now. Oh well, at least I get an uninterrupted night’s sleep for the first time in months [tell me about it – Ed.] and at my age I do need to conserve my energy. These days I seem to find myself dreaming about that nubile young lass, Kiki, as much as about Nina. Incorrigible stud dog, that’s me.

 

On Wednesday Mum did that odd thing she does every winter of putting a tree indoors. It’s not a real tree; she doesn’t know much about dogs if she thinks that something with no tree smell at all will fool us dobies. Nonetheless, I thought I ought to have a little pee on it just to show the brat who’s boss. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten I can’t seem to cock my leg any more, so there were a few drops on the carpet and I got a severe telling off.

 

Mum’s got a cold and is sniffling deliciously. I say deliciously because snotty tissue is one of my favourite between-meal snacks. Unfortunately, Mum knows this and doesn’t seem to like it so I have to be a bit devious to get them. I find the best tactic is to stand with my chin on the table and look adoringly at her while edging closer to the tissue, and then pounce before she realises what I’m up to. It’s quite tricky ‘cos I do need to glance occasionally to see where it is and if she sees me she guesses what I’m up to and moves it. Still, she’s no match for an intelligent stud boy like me and I’ve managed a few already without her realising.

 

Got to go – I can smell salmon and rice

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