Shock. Horror. The most fell deed imaginable. Betrayed by my own mother!!!!
Please, if you are of a squeamish nature, I beg that you look away now. And no, Bran, there are no photos.
The truth is...I can hardly bare to say it. Here goes...
I have been unmanned! Yes! I, Clive, am two peas short of a pod! Or should that be two pods short? Well, however you like to put it, I am no longer the man I once was. My short and curlies have been shaved as well so I look like an overgrown puppy whose pods haven't even shown up to the party yet.
I really thought, at the grand age of 3 1/2, that I had gotten away with it. That Whippet had been unmanned since before he came to live with us, and to be honest he's such a girl anyway he'll have hardly noticed any difference. But me! How can I strut my manly stuff now?
The worst of it is I've hardly had anything at all to eat since 7pm yesterday evening. Mother seems to think a tiny bit of roast chicken when I arrived home will be sufficient, but she should know better!
I am overcome by feelings of loss. I will retire.