Doing My Job
I was only doing my job. I was doing it very well I might add, even though it was not appreciated. If there is an alarm going off or a loud bang in the middle of the night then it is my job to make sure Mum knows and does not go back to sleep until she has fully investigated. I was not in possession of the full information that it was all caused by power cuts and Mum would not want to know.
There have been problems with the power supply to our village. Overnight the night before last it kept going on and off – right up to the loud bang from further up the village. Anyway, it caused our house alarm to trigger a warning alarm which Mum couldn’t hear. I’d already woken her every time the power tripped out, but when the alarm started I wouldn’t let her go back to sleep. Was she grateful? No. It could have been important. I’m sure she’d rather I told her in case it was. Whatever Mum thought, when she could hardly keep her eyes open, I am a good dog.
Cooking is cruel
If you aren’t going to give some of what you are making to the dog, then cooking things that smell nice is cruel. Humans can be so annoying. If what you are cooking is not for us then the least you could do is cook something at the same time which is for us. Ok, so maybe I didn’t really want the loaf of bread anyway, but would it have hurt to cook me some dog biscuits? I saw an interesting looking bottle of vanilla essence come in with the shopping. That would do very well to flavour some biscuits for us. I’m sure there must be a few other suitable ingredients lying around. Perhaps if I were to look out a recipe and leave it in a strategic position it would help.
Love
Wilma
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