Woke up this morning and thought, ‘My Mum loves me’. Then I heard that Velvet thing mutter and I thought, ‘No, she doesn’t; she loves her instead.’ Then I was a very sad doberboy. I fell asleep again for a while until I heard Mum come downstairs. We all jostled to be her best dog as she came in, but she stroked my head first. Perhaps she does still love me just a little bit. She tells me I’m her best boy, but I’m not stupid – I’m her only boy.
We all went in the garden and Velvet got cheese just for doing a pee – and more for doing a poo. I can do all sorts of clever things, like down stays with liver on both feet, but she gets rewarded for a pee. I ask you, what’s the world coming to? It’s just not fair.
Things improved a bit when Mummy Nina and I went for a run in the field with Mum, not least because Velvet doesn’t come with us. Ha! And guess what? I caught a mouse! Being a brill hunter, I pounced on it and gulped it down as a sort of breakfast appetiser. [Actually, it took you three goes, Mo, but never mind. Ed.] It tickled in my tum for a while; I think I might chew the next one a bit. When Mummy Nina catches a rabbit or a pheasant, she settles down and makes a real feast of it, but it’s pretty difficult to make a feast out of one field mouse.
Mummy Nina had her head right down the big rabbit hole, but she didn’t catch anything. I’m quite glad, as my mouse wouldn’t have seemed so impressive if she’d caught a rabbit.
The day got even better later, when Mum took me out and produced a Frisbee ring. I do so love a Frisbee ring and we haven’t had one for ages. Mum throws it and it flies like mad. I chase it and try to catch it while it’s still rolling along. I bring it back and I either have to leave it or sit and give it. I’m a good boy. When I run back with it in my mouth, the top bit goes up on top of my head and Mum calls it my halo. The last one disappeared weeks ago when Mum threw it in the garden. It must be a halo because it went up in the air and then vanished. That means God thinks I’m going to be Saint Satchmo one day, but not yet. [I hate to say it, Satchmo, but it got stuck in the sloe trees. Ed.]
Then Mum took me for a brill walk and we met some girlies. I got up on my tiptoes and strutted round them. My tail did that helicopter thing. They were dead impressed; I could tell. Then I got called away just as things were hotting up. Damn. I had to go, though, because I’m a good boy.
After my walk, we had tea and then – bliss – Mum took Velvet away so Mummy Nina and I could have a proper grown up chat and a kip. The downside was she brought her back a bit later – smelt as though she’d been to the training place. Oh well. At least she was so tired that she went to sleep and Mummy Nina and I could go and curl up on the settee with Mum. That’s my idea of the perfect end to a day. As usual lately, though, it was spoilt by having to go out into the garden with Velvet before beddie-bed. She jumps up at me all the time. I hate it. I can’t even cock my leg without her sniffing around. Makes me very nervous when I’m balanced on three legs and she’s sniffing my dangly bits. You ask Nureyev what it feels like when the ballerina sniffs his privates while he’s in the middle of an attitude en arrière. Bet he doesn’t like it either.
Oh well, have to make the best of a bad thing. I bagged my place on the bed dead quick and dribbled till it was my turn for the biccies. Then I looked all sort of doleful till Mum gave me an ear scratch. After that I was ready for bed and dreaming of any luscious dobergirl – apart from Velvet.
[Postscript – the wind brought down most of the leaves from the sloe tree and … no sign of the blue frisbee ring, so maybe Satch was right after all. Ed.]