Clive

Clive

Thursday 2 October 2008

Grrrrr.

That's how I'm feeling today. Grrrrrr. And Bored. Bored bored bored bored bored. My people had visitors today, who we know and love (though they brought some other different people with them too) but they were all too busy yakking to talk to us. It was all "off Clive" and "down Clive". Yadder yadder yadder.

They ate food and didn't give us any. Okay, we had a so-called "treat" and had lamb for breakfast and dinner, but what about their food? Nothing fell on the floor. Nothing. And call that a walk? On-lead and it was doing that thing where there's loads of water in the air being blown around. I got soaked! And I couldn't run around to get it out of my coat. Miserable. Came home and then they opened up the pub. No-one interesting has come in. I'm still not allowed on the sofa, or in the bedroom.

I'm fed up.

Plus, I think we're out of treats. I'm sure I heard Mum say so. But she hasn't made any more has she? And no more treats have arrived from London, or anywhere else. I'm worried. What will we do without treats? And I think Mum's up to something. She's got this book, and when she reads it she keeps looking and me and Dylan in an assessing kind of way, and talking to Dad. I've tried to figure out what the book's about, but all I can ascertain is that it has words in it. Worrying.

All I can say is that if there's not the smell of pilchard bread baking before bedtime, I'm going on strike!

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