Well, I’ve been here in this new house for about 3 weeks now and boy, are things different. For a start, there’s two furry things which I think are called ‘cats’ and they don’t half bully me but now I’m learning how to growl, they’re backing off. All I’ve got to do now is chase them in a direction which means they have to choose between my fangs and the pool and I’m made. I guess they’ll choose the pool and I can’t wait for that cause whilst my hair gets wet and I don’t mind it too much, they’ve got fur and I’ve heard that they don’t like it when their fur gets wet. We’ll see.
And then there’s the food. In my last place I used to try and find scraps and indeed visit the nearby restaurant where sympathetic diners would throw me some lamb bones but now, I’m fed these biscuit things. The cats get biscuit things as well and boy they must be as bored as me. I mean every time the trunk is opened and I know it’s feeding time, all I get is a tiny portion of croquettes I think they’re called. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have them than nothing – but for every meal! Sometimes I get thrown a small piece of meat and it’s so good I feel like my taste buds are bursting. And whilst I gobble up my dinner in seconds, the cats merely nibble at theirs and then wander off. I’ve tried helping them out but my master doesn’t like me eating the cats’ food and yet, if for any reason I leave some of mine, the cats are almost encouraged to eat it which I think is very unfair.
And I’ve also had a smack or two. In my last place I could wee anywhere but my new master doesn’t seem to like me doing ‘my business’ in his bedroom. Indeed, last week he ran from the room into the toilet making strange noises and when he came back a funny colour, he gave me a whack on my nose and said something about not doing my business on his ‘shagpile’ whatever that is.
But whilst he is quite strict with me; no licking on the face, no jumping up, sitting down when he tells me etc, he does love me. I’ve heard him tell people on this thing that rings and he talks into it that I am adorable. When I sit on his lap at his computer thing, he’s got a picture of a big black dog which I think was called ‘Shadow’ and I guess that must’ve been his last dog and it must’ve been a good dog cause he looks me in the eyes and says that if I turn out to be half the dog Shadow was that’ll do him just fine. So, I’m trying to learn everything he tells me as quickly as I can but I am still a puppy and sometimes I get so excited that I just have to jump up, or lick someone’s face or even do a wee on the carpet.
I think though that my master was very proud of me last week. We went down to a river and when he paddled across to the other side, I felt I just had to jump in and try and join him but it was strange because as soon as I hit the water and despite doing my doggie paddle as fast as I could I was carried away and all I could see was my master running after me as I headed for a very deep pool. Thankfully, he managed to grab my collar and drag me out but he said something like ‘drowned rat’ and ‘Shadow never did that’ so I don’t know if that was a good idea of mine or not. Anyway, I didn’t get a smack so I must’ve been a brave doggie.
But I don’t think I was a brave doggie when I got ticked off during my first week in my new house. I mean, I’m taken away from my mummy and my sister at our farm in the mountains. My name is changed from Blackie, which I thought was ok given I’m black, to a poncy name like Elsa which is supposedly the name of a lion in a film my mistress cries at a lot. I’m not allowed to chew things any more and so when I grabbed this Birkenstock thing and chewed it up, my mistress wasn’t at all happy.