Thursday, 31 December 2009

A dog is for life, not just for Christmas . . . a day in the life of Cyril

So, as mum gets ready we are allowed to snooze on the bed. I have figured out that we are ONLY allowed on the bed when mum gives us her express permission. Not that I want to tell tales, but as soon as mum goes out Hetty launches her scrawny-self on the bed anyway. I think mum knows though, I hear her grumbling about paw prints and sand on the Laura Ashley and about cushions left askew. Hetty tries to blame the cats, but mum's not daft.

Then we hot-paw it downstairs and Hetty does a weather report. She fancies herself as a GMTV weather girl. I told mum that a dog would NEVER make it as a weather girl. Mum muttered something about 'Why not, Ulrika Jonsson did?' But I didn't quite understand what she meant.

Today Hetty reported that the snow was almost gone. Hurrah! Maybe we'll see some green grass for a change.

Hmmm. A little bit of green grass, but a lot more MUD. Do you like Hetty's coat? At the start of the walk it was royal purple. By the time we got back home it was caked in clarts. Hetty is definitely more ladette than lady!

I don't need a coat, my fur is as thick as a bear's. Hetty's fur is all fine and tufty. Mum says she looks like Paul Daniels. I don't know who he is. I asked mum if she likes him. 'Not a lot.', she replied.

In fact, Hetty is so sparsely coated that Mum has bought her some pjyamas, to keep her warm through the night! Imagine that, a dog in pyjamas! I'll try and sneak a pic for you! Mum got them on EBAY. She says you can buy or sell anything on EBAY. She then went on to say she may have to sell a kidney on there, to keep us all in Chappie. I'm not sure what she meant, but if kidneys are anything like shoes or lipsticks then mum's got plenty, so I'm not worried.

I know I have a bit of lurcher in me, but I just can't run as fast as Hetty. She chases me hither and thither like a hound possessed. Mum said Hetty has a stronger chase instinct than Benny Hill. I've never heard of him. I asked mum what kind of a hound he was, she replied 'a dirty one.' So, he must run in our muddy park too!

Sometimes all that chasing gets a bit too much for me, and I have to find a quiet corner of the park to catch my beardie breath. Here I am, resting but alert, my mince-pies peeled ready for another lurcher attack!

We're not called 'sighthounds' for nothing. It doesn't take long before Hetty spies me and woosh, we're off again! Mum says we run so fast her camera goes all blurry. Can you see on this picture, she's going for my neck? Mum says Hetty must be a greyhound/ deerhound/ vampire mix.

Eventually I have to ask my mum to take me home, I've had enough. To do this I give mum 'the look'.

Can you see that wound on my nose, by the way? A bloody cat did that. Big, ugly black thing called Moses. I jumped on the sofa (there was room for both of us) but WHACK! He gave me a clawy right-hook. Cats! Mum has 4 of 'em. If you ask me she should be selling them on EBAY!

Look, here I am at home. Do you like the bed? Mum bought it for me yesterday. It's a good sign, don't you think, my own bed? Looks like I'm staying!!! Paws crossed.

Happy New Year everyone.

p.s. Here is Hetty in her PJs!

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