Well it is the end of another tax year in England. Not of course that that affects me greatly but it is always important to mark the major events on the calendar. What I want to know is who, in their right mind, would select the fifth day of the third month to be the end of the year? It really doesn’t make any sense to me at all.
On a completely separate note I came up with a new slogan for some of my t shirts yesterday. I thought ‘These are not my muddy pawprints but the artisitic work of Alfie Dog’ would look quite good on anyone who can’t keep their clothes clean. I’ve sent for one for my mistress as in her case it is usually true. Whether she would actually stay clean without me around is a moot point but she can dream. Given how many of you seem to be reading the day I wrote my concerns about puppies growing up without their ‘absentee fathers’, I am thinking about adding one that says ‘Every puppy needs his dad’ and making it one of the core campaigns of the Pet Dogs Democratic Party. I still haven’t even met my dad. I am assuming that he is handsome, intelligent and a thoroughly decent dog but you never can tell. It is a bit like the story I read about a girl in America who had a sperm donor for a dad. On his paperwork he had put that he was a musician and dancer with a degree. When she traced him he was out of work, down on his luck and sleeping in a van. He had never got a degree or been a musician and dancer but the important bit was that as far as she was concerned he was still her dad and none of the rest mattered. It makes you think really.