Second letter to Santa Paws
I know this is my second letter to Santa Paws this year, but here goes.
Dear Santa Paws,
I know I’ve already written to you this year but a lot has changed around here since then and I just thought I’d have another word. I don’t need any new toys. I’ve got as many as any girl needs. There’s no need to give me dog beds either, you wouldn’t believe how many of those I now have all to myself. Obviously, I’d like treats, but Mum rations me on those, so there isn’t a great deal of point. What I’d really like is a puppy to call my very own. One that can be company for me when my humans are busy and who I can bring up the way a puppy should be. I’d like my puppy to be bright and intelligent and enjoyable to talk to as well as play with. One day, they might even help me writing the diary if they really do well.
I know it’s a lot to ask Santa, but I miss Ari more than I could ever have imagined possible. Sadly, I don’t think my humans are quite ready to get another puppy, so I promise I’d do all the work to look after it, so that it didn’t cause a problem.
Thank you Santa Paws. I won’t write again this year, honestly.
Glorious mud
Oh dear, the garden has gone critical. What Aristotle would think if he were here I really don’t know. We knew that at some point there would be scaffolding blocking the best way round to the garden and it’s finally happened. Until now, when the builders were not here, we could use the same areas around where they were working. It made going into the garden much easier. Now we have to walk all the way around the house through what can only be described as a mud bath.
The main problem is that it just won’t stop raining. Even on the days it’s supposed to be dry, it still rains. It makes it pretty much impossible to keep my paws and Mum’s shoes clean. You should see the state of the house. I can make really good mud pawprints on the hall carpet when I come in. It’s great fun – for me anyway.
Love
Wilma
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