It’s no joke being a 2 year-old puppy dog ~ just in case you thought it might be.
I’ve landed myself in a a right dogfaddle over the last while getting carried away with stuff. It all started when I was out at one of the beaches with very tall cliffs and I took off after a seagull and ended up scrambling up the highest cliffs you could ever imagine. To tell the truth, I don’t know how I did it. Here’s what they look like:
The seagull soared off into the blue and I was left all dizzy and lost and when I took a look down at the beach I thought I was goin’ to keel over. I could hear Jean sort of sobbing away in the distance ~ or maybe she was screaming like a maniac ….. the main thing was I could hear her but I hadn’t a notion if I’d ever see her again.
Well, after a lot terrors that I can’t even bear to think about now I managed to get down to where the car was. Jean was there and grabbed me into her arms and cuddled me like never before but when we got home she seemed to have changed a lot and I wasn’t allowed to go to any beach or be off the lead anywhere. I HATE the lead.
Next thing my tummy went all wonky ~ I know it was sort of from being in the bad books and from being bored silly. Don’t tell Jean but I think what really made me sick was getting stuck into a bottle of Vodka that someone fired into the garden. I was thirsty and it tasted nice and made me all relaxed again and took away the awful memories of looking down from the tip top of that cliff.
You know about being sick as a dog ~ well that’s sick, vomit, yuck, sore tum, burning eyes ….. and having a guy in a green coat poking and prodding at me in all sorts of places that I thought were mine and mine alone. It was kinda worth it ‘cos Jean was lovely to me and even slept with me in front of the fire one night in the middle of it. When I say ‘slept,’ I mean took me in and out of the garden every few minutes to be sick and …..
You’d be thinking I’d have learned from all that but the VERY first day she brought me out to the wood, I was eyeing up a robin and next thing there was a big thundery sound and a peasant – I think that’s what you call it – flew up out of the thick grass. I got all excited and took off after it at a hundred miles an hour and ended up crossing a road in front of a car that screeched to a stop about an inch in front of me.
The people in the car were nice to me but were very nasty to Jean and then she told me that I’d have to ‘do time in the doghouse.’
Time goes v e r y
s l o w l y
in the doghouse and I’m bored out of my mind counting seagulls:
I managed to escape this evening and write to you. I’m just hoping you can convince her to forgive me. She says it’s the terrible twos or maybe hormones (whatever they are). I don’t know why I can’t seem to keep out of trouble but I know I’ll try if I get a another chance.
Gotta go. I hear her coming in the front door.