Stuff being benign....

He gets everything he asks for! Boing boing bloody boing. He makes me dizzy. Mum says it will be better now we can get back into our routine and get back to our new regime of calming meals (I don't care if they're calming, I just want them to be plentiful) and regular training. In the meantime, does anyone want a boingy hairy whippet?

It has been a whirlwind of activity here. There's this wierd thing called Christmas, which was kind of cool because one of my favourite people came to visit (though I'm not sure he loves me as much as I love him, he won't let me sit on him!) and we got presents to open (Mum complained though because she had to sew up our new toys on day two - why else do we have toys except to chew them???) and nice treats to eat. And then more people came to visit, some of them a bit on the short side (but quite fun) and the pub has been heaving.

I have been feeling quite sociable recently so have been checking out the customers. Many of them have interesting trousers (fantastically some of them stink of fish! Brilliant!) so I like to spend time catching up on the neighbourhood news. Seems when you live in a pub, you get access to lots of trousers! I quite like it.

Anyway, Mum says me and That Whippet have to draw up our New Year's Resolutions. I said hers should include more generous food portions for me and trying harder to find a new home for That Whippet. She said not to be so cheeky, and that my "brother" (ha!) is not going anywhere.

Great.

A Statement.

I would like to put out a statement please. I won't be taking questions.

I, Clive, recognise the right of him (That Whippet) to have his own blog. Even if he doesn't deserve one. Sorry. Anyway. I recognise that it is not a threat to my blog, that we each have our own identities and ideas and are allowed to express them.

I, Clive, also recognise that it was wrong of me to spend the week sulking about this. And that it was wrong of me to change Dylan's password (well, honestly, hasn't he heard of security? it was sooo easy to crack) so that he couldn't blog.

I, Clive, will try to more benign in future.

Trying.


Trying reealllllllly hard.

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.