I think I’m homesick. I feel really lethargic and miserable and I keep thinking about the blue bowl with bones on that I have at home. Then I think about chasing the pheasants and about the remaining bits of my rubber rabbit. I miss my frisbee too and much as I don’t like to admit it I miss my master and my mistress. I am never going to take them or my home for granted again. I couldn’t face playing with the other dogs, I just found a quiet corner and moped. It does feel like they have been away forever.
Well I now know what happens when my phone rings. Not only do I get dogs howling as a ring tone but then I get real dogs joining in as well. The other problem is that every time the dogs start howling I rush to answer the phone only to find it isn’t for me. When it was my phone I’d joined in the howling before I realised and ended up missing a call. It turned out that it was my master telling me he has got to England ok. Now you would think that that ought to be something to please me but until now I had not realised that he was still in Belgium and therefore I could have been at home. Didn’t he want me? Am I too much of a nuisance to him? I feel rather hurt as I really rather like being round him.
Other than that Saturday wasn’t a very exciting day. I moped a bit thinking about the things I am missing out on. I want to meet all my master and mistress’s friends. Admittedly there seem to be rather more of mistress’s to meet than my master’s, something about one of them being better at keeping in touch. They wonder why it is I don’t invite the friends I make without them round to meet them but they aren’t exactly introducing me to all their friends either. I haven’t even met their families yet come to that.
I probably forgot to mention that I had to be weighed for my new lot of tick treatment and it seems I now weigh 23kg. I was quite impressed until we got home and I discovered the grim reality of the situation. Not only does it now mean there is more tick treatment to squirt into my fur but tragically it means if you look at the chart on the sack of dog food and you find the line for my age and weight it means I should be eating a little less than I have been getting away with. Oh bother. Do you think if I promise to run it off and keep trim my mistress might agree to keep giving me a larger quantity?