Well diary I have been noticing something very strange happening recently. The car seat is getting smaller. Every time I get in there seem to be more bits of me hanging over the edges of the seat than there were the last time I got in. Today for example I concluded that unless I sat up or curled up, there really wasn’t enough seat to go round. I have also noticed that every couple of days I seem to be a bit plump around the tummy and then overnight it is as though someone comes along with a rolling pin and rolled me out. The next day I seem to be back to normal round the middle but a bit longer. The process only seems to work in one direction.
My owner is a bit on the clumsy side. On a bad day it means she stands on my paw and I yelp and hold up my paw for a bit of sympathy, but overall it rather works to my advantage. I have learnt that when she is cooking the best place to be is sitting on her feet. She finds it a bit difficult to move and has told me that this may be directly leading to her standing on my paws, but it is worth it. I am there, ready and waiting for all the bits of food that get dropped on the floor. I am becoming particularly partial to a bit of apple crumble, and last night she managed to spill chicken stew all down the front of the work surface I was there ready with my tongue against the cupboard to catch it. If she would share it with me in the first place instead of giving me dry dog food I wouldn’t have to resort to such lengths.
A little less successful than the chicken stew was last night’s bedtime story. ‘Miffy in the hospital’ or at least that is what it would have been if it had been in English. Now I know that I was born in Belgium and that my mum is Belgian, but my dad is Swiss and my owners are English. I may be a very international dog, but I still don’t understand enough Dutch to have my bedtime story read in it. I know Miffy is my favourite, but that is in an ear tearing off sort of way rather than a bedtime story sort of way. Still, I think they enjoyed it!
I was watching a DVD about Formula 1 motor racing last night. Do you think I could be a racing driver? Do you think the FIA have any regulations that prevent the car being modified so that I can reach the pedals? I can see it now, on the podium in Monaco. The worlds newspapers with the headlines ‘Alfie the first dog to win a Grand Prix’, ‘Alfie the Greatest Racing Dog Ever’. I can see them now, the crowds, the applause, the fans. Oh what a life. In the meantime if I could just find a car seat that didn’t seem to be shrinking.