Too much!!!!

That Whippet.....




















has his own BLOG !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


How did this happen? I'm the one with the blog, not him. He has nothing to say! How could he? He's a Whippet! He's laughing at me, I know he is.

doG dammit!

OutRage! I cannot believe my Eyes!

I am almost at a loss for words. My whole world is shaken to the core.

How can I even type what has happened.

Argh!

That Whippet...I can't believe it...That Whippet....


Not happening.

Not happening.

Alive and Kicking

Don't panic dear Followers! I am still alive and well. I am now in a position to explain all!

It is Good News. It seems Mum and Dad have very kindly brought me an early Christmas present in the form of my very own Masseuse! Yes! Wednesday's visit was not in the least bit scary, and while I am a little sad that I will not be appearing on television any time soon, I must say it is very thoughtful of the old parents to treat me like this.

My Masseuse is a lovely lady with curly hair. She was friendly, introduced herself very politely (that kind of thing is important to me you know) and seemed to know her stuff. Apparently, she prefers her work to be called "T-Touch" which I had never heard of (Mum says is quite the thing) but I don't mind in the slightest what she calls it, since it basically means me getting a good allover massage.

Another great thing about the visit was that my Masseuse (sorry, T-Touch Lady Person) is also a bit of a whizz at analysing silly whippety collie things and she says...

It's all That Whippet's fault!

What is? I hear you ask. Well, everything - the tension, the rowdiness. I've been trying to tell Mum for simply ages that the Whippet is too annoying for words. He boings all over me, gets in the way, disturbs my peace and then screams like a girl when I tell him to back off. Mum has spent the last two days telling me it's not all his fault, that he's naturally excitable and that my Masseuse (sorry, T-Touch Lady Person) didn't say that it was all his fault at all, but I know I'm right.

So now we're both working on our Inner Buddhas. Me so I'm less irritable (yeah, right, me irritable? Pah!) and That Whippet so he's not so boingy. Personally, I think he's got way more work to do than me, but there you have it. If one of us is in Boot Camp, we both are.

Also in the news today: My manifesto is coming along nicely, though with all this T-Touch excitement Mum is threatening to postpone the election until the New Year. She seems to think it is encouraging "my slight ego problem" whatever that is. Anyway, I will continue in the hope that the democratic process is not messed with. Just in case, though, I have got the number of the United Nations Electoral Assistance Division, who I understand can help ensure a safe and fair election process, and I am prepared to call them in if the parents try and scotch my election to position of Pack Leader!

p.s. Dear Muppet - Even though I will not be on television, I am prepared to donate you a free pawtograph should you be interested. Just let me know.

Questions questions

I have serious concerns. Mum says something Important is happening tomorrow but she still won't say what. Instead, she's been asking me all these questions and writing them down on this really long form. About my health, how I feel, where on my body I like being touched and don't like being touched! Do I like being brushed (did she really have to ask?)!

What in the world is she up to?

She's not been asking Dylan, just me. Is it some kind of market research? Am I going to be involved in the tasting of some new and fantastic treats? Or is there a more sinister event occurring? My mind is running amok with possibilities, a few of which I shall share with you.

• I am going under the knife in some heinous medical operation (I've had one of those before and it was awful, made me wibbly for days).
• I am being signed up to a doggy dating service (I know some dogs might get all slathery at this notion but I have to say I'm not terribly interested - do you get treat matching services? oooh, have I just had the most marvelous idea? Is this a gap in the market? Note to self: do new mind meld on practicalities of idea).
• I am going to be one of those daytime chat shows and the questions are to make sure I am not a complete nutter who will ruin the show. Or to make sure I AM a complete nutter who will MAKE the show. Hmm.

You see how my mind is motoring around? I am being eaten up with curiosity. I can think of nothing else.

Well, I say nothing else, but of course that doesn't include food. I am going to have to lodge another complaint. Only one meal today. Does she think I won't notice? Does she think that by giving me a teensy bit more food in the one meal, I won't require the other?

I am sharpening my pencil.

Please think of me tomorrow. If I survive this "Important Event" I shall explain all.

Parcels aren't just sent by People!

You remember that parcel that we sent to London? And the one we got back full of delicious treats? Well, there has been a Development in this little festival of post.

The Parcel Sender came to stay. All the way from London. And get this...

It's a D.O.G.! Yes, a dog! To be precise, a girl dog called Rosie. I am supposed to say hello to her because I know she reads this and Mum said I had to. To be honest though, she had ideas of grandeur. I mean, she'd only been here 24 hours and she decided she wanted to be boss! I tried to explain about the theory of democracy, and the Campaign, and that if she wanted some action she'd need to formally become a candidate, but she didn't want to know. She may even have made a rude gesture! She certainly didn't agree. Mum said it was normal for girl dogs to take charge, but how can that be right? She didn't even have a manifesto.

She charmed That Whippet alright. All he talks about now is "Rosie this" and "Rosie that". If I hear "When Rosie was here" one more time I'll pull his tail hairs out. It's not that I didn't like her, it's just that all the rough and tumble play between her and That Whippet was inconsiderate in a small flat like ours and I got shoved around several times.

Mum says I mustn't focus on it, so I am concentrating on nurturing my inner buddha. She says I have a special visitor this week, but she won't tell me who so I shall just have to wait and see.

In the meantime campaigning is going well and I am delighted to see I have a supporter as far away as Australia! It is comforting to know that I am not alone in believing in my right to lead this Pack. Sadly I do not yet have my Campaign Badges as Mum seemed very unhappy at my using her Paypal account and took away my unsupervised laptop privileges.

Still, I am working on my posters and have some good spots picked out around the building where they will make a real impact on the voters. The patch of wall just above Dad's computer screen is a prime target. He seems rather complacent about the whole Campaign idea and is in danger of suffereing a crushing defeat if he doesn't pick his feet up. Luckily, I am a good Strategic Thinker and this I am sure will stand me in good stead.

Election Fever

Apologies for the absence but I have been exceptionally busy. The Campaign to Democratise Our Pack is coming on nicely, I am mainly still in the research phase but have learnt several vital facts:

• If you are elected leader you are in charge, and although you might listen to what other pack members have to say, it is up to you to do what you think is best (I believe I would be well suited to this role).
• Leaders get respect - I am certainly due some of that.
  
• Elections are expensive, therefore I will need to start fundraising as soon as possible (Dylan has a spanking new kong in the cupboard that he doesn't know about yet so I could sell that for starters).
• I will need some badges. Everybody will want to shout out to the world that they support Me so I will definitely need badges (see item above ref fundraising).

It seems I already have some supporters, so I have a mandate to step up to the election plate. I have polled the household (though they were all rubbish at remembering to fill out their forms so I had to do it for them) and 3 out of 3 fellow pack members all said they thought I would be an exceptional leader.

So, I am formally launching my bid to become Pack Leader. I will notify Mum (who seems to be the admin person round here) and hopefully get some pilchard bread for my bravery and civic mindedness!

Other news: We have been visiting! Yes, I am much in demand, so Mum and Dad kindly escorted me to my human grandparents. They have the most amazing garden, filled with lovely areas that are a cunning mix of plants and mud patches. They call them "flowerbeds" but I think that they are actually designed for the dual task of olfactory stimulation (sniffing flowers) and paw massage (mud is great for the pads you know). I shall therefore call them "Nose and Paw Fun Parks". Much more accurate.

Otherwise, there is an Interesting Event taking place this weekend, I can tell. I am not yet privy to the details, but I am pretty sure that Someone is coming to Visit Me. I know this because Mum and Dad are tidying up. I will keep you updated, as campaign work allows.

And now I must go and source badges on the internet. I have discovered this fantastic thing called PayPal. Now I don't have to worry about getting hold of Mum's credit card because I can just presss this little button on the screen and pay for all the stuff I want!

Sorted!

This Thing Called Democracy

I have been very interested to learn that there is something called an 'election' going on in America, which I believe is somewhere to the west of Wales, where I now reside. I have read up on what an 'election' is and am astonished to find that the leader of the pack of America is being voted for by the pack members!

I never heard of such a thing! Apparently, this is called Democracy, which is today's new word.

This has deep ramifications for my entire setup. I don't recall having an 'election' here. I've been with my pack nearly 3 years now and am sure I wouldn't have missed such a momentous event. There certainly wasn't a vote on whether to let That Whippet join. I know how I would have voted on that one!

Anyway. I am wondering. Does this lack of 'democratic rights' mean I reside in a dictatorship? Am I under the thumb of a harsh and illegal regime? Are my civil rights being eroded every moment that I breath?

Or, and this is a horrifying thought, do dogs not get a vote????

Now I cannot truly believe this, since we hounds are integral parts of the wheel of human life, but I am not sure which of the two options is the worse. Having my Dad (yes, despite her best efforts, poor old mum really isn't pack leader material) lord it up over me without any kind of mandate (I'm getting good at the lingo aren't I?) really isn't acceptable.

So it is with a committed heart that I have to launch my new campaign. The Toys are Free (I cannot bring myself to wholly explain this since it involves unacceptable levels of talking about That Damn Whippet) and my efforts are no longer needed there.

Enter....



The Campaign to Democratise Our Pack.




We have already held a straw poll between myself and Dylan and it was a unanimous vote for ME. I was delighted, and the Whippet wasn't at all coached.


Not one little bit.

My Dad is a Hero!

He is! He really is! Last night was our pub darts team first home game. But lots of people were away and there were only 5 team members, instead of 6! They would have had to forfeit! A while back Dad reluctantly agreed to be the absolute last resort I-really-don't-want-to-have-to-play home game reserve, and last night, despite the fact that the pub was heavingly busy, he bravely stepped up to the plate.

He lost his singles game. He did, there's no hiding it. But only just and I think he was just getting warmed up. It was tense, very tense. People were impressed, I could tell. And he was first, which I think is hardest. But - and get this - he won his doubles game! He won, he won! Well, him and his partner, but they both played great! Everyone went crazy!

Of course, the other team still won, but only by one game and if Dad hadn't played we would have lost by loads more games and been bottom of the league table for sure. He seems to be quite enthusiastic about darts now.

Me and Dylan had to go upstairs after the darts match finished because some girls started to play who couldn't really play at all and the darts were going everywhere except in the board. Dylan spent the rest of the night shouting, but I just slept. I'm cool that way. Dylan doesn't know when to give up.

On a different subject, I haven't yet received a reply to complaints letter, but will not let the matter lie. Parents have been a little too 'talk to the hand' about the matter so far for my liking but have agreed to reply in writing so I can put it on file. I don't hold out much hope for a positive message.

I always have the RSPCA phone number as a last resort.