Harry Came to Stay

A new dog has moved in. He’s been here for over three months now so I think he’s staying. I hope so. His name is Harry and he’s a very small, curly-haired white dog, who’s a Bichon Frise, according to Deana.

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I wasn’t sure that I wanted a friend but Deana thought it would be good for me after Mum died so we drove all the way to Somerset to collect him. I was a bit confused about where we were and what we were doing but then for some reason we had to walk him on a beach behind where he was staying with a foster family and I couldn’t stop grinning. It’s been so long since I had sand between my paws. Hundreds of memories came hurtling back – things I’d not thought about for years. I remembered living in Malta and how Deana would take me and Mum to beaches so that we could have a good run and how even though we were afraid of the water, we loved how soft the sand felt. I remembered finding a dead fish that tasted delicious even when it got horribly stuck in my jaw and Deana had to prise it out. I used to love the smells and the little rock pools, the seaweed and the way the sand just made me and Mum race as fast as we could.  Continue reading

Daisies

It’s been ages since I wrote anything. I’ve had a few changes to get used to.

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Firstly, my hearing’s gone, like my mum, Cinderella. I’m not totally deaf, like she is, but I can’t hear much anymore. My mum doesn’t seem to mind at all but I keep getting lost in the woods and Deana has to come and find me. She has to wave her arms at me, but because my eyesight isn’t so good, there’s no point unless she’s really close. I thought my eyesight might get better if my hearing went. That would make sense.  But it didn’t. So now I can’t see or hear well. It makes Deana sad. She says I’m very old now, even though Mum’s still running around at 15. Continue reading

Homesick

Deana told us that we were moving house and that we’d have to stay at her sister’s for a short while, but it’s become a really long while. I miss Deana a lot. And I’m panicking because I can’t watch her every day. Anything could happen.

Mum is fine. She spends most of her time sleeping in the new bed that Deana got us. It’s huge and bouncy and I think she thought it would make up for not being with her which makes me think I’ve got a lot of work to do in convincing her how much we love her. I’d sleep on a hard tile floor if I could go home.

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The new bed is in the utility room, in front of the dryer which makes things really nice and warm. I like that bit, I do. I like being toasty. But it means Mum is out for the count most of the time, legs in the air, snoring away, and that means I have to play with my cousins Dhsk and Lewis. Which is fine, I suppose.  But they aren’t very mature. I don’t want to race around the garden chasing a ball or my own tail. I’ve never liked balls or sticks and I’m not going to start now. And I don’t really see why it’s fun chasing my tail. I know exactly where it is and it’s never going to be anywhere else. Continue reading

Kennels

I was right to be a bit shifty about the packing and the suitcases all over the house. Deana did go away and she didn’t take us with her. Me and Mum have had to go to kennels. We’ve been here before so we should be used to it but I’m definitely not. I hate how there isn’t a sofa for us to lie on and no one feeds us bits of pizza or leftover chicken kebabs. It’s just a kennel and run, with our beds in a corner, and even though we keep peeing in our beds it just doesn’t feel like home.

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Mum is better at kennel life than I am. For a start her hearing problem means she doesn’t mind all the barking. I’m happy that everyone wants to say hello a few times, but then I want some peace and quiet. I don’t want to know that the Dachshund three kennels down can only poo if she’s taken for a walk where there’s grass, or that the labrador with the weight issues is going to devour the Chihuahua next door if he doesn’t get more kibble immediately.  And I’m not scared of the Dalmation who says he could eat me and Mum and not even notice.  I want it to be silent so I can hear Deana’s car pull up when she comes to get us. But with this lot of whiny babies I can’t hear a thing.

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Packing Time

My human-mum, Deana, is packing. It makes me nervous, because I like things to stay exactly as they are. There are boxes all over the place and she is hurrying from room to room, grabbing books and toys and asking me where all the kitchen gadgets have come from. She says, ‘Have you been to Lakeland again Buzbuz?’ I’ve tried my best but I can’t keep up with her so I’ve decided to lie on the sofa and keep an eye on things from there. So far my lead and bed haven’t been packed but my raincoat has! Which means I am definitely going with her. Definitely, definitely. Mum says I’m ridiculous to think that we’d be left behind. She says that I should spend more time asleep and less time worrying about everything. It’s like she doesn’t know me at all.

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I hate that raincoat and if the box it’s in goes missing that would be a really good thing.  It’s turquoise and itchy and I look ridiculous in it. And it has Velcro. I’m very scared of Velcro. Deana made me try on the coat in the pet shop. I had to stand there in front of a dog that wasn’t Mum, a rabbit and a couple of chinchillas. Even though they all said, no, that’s a terrible look, she bought it. Poor Mum got a black and gold woolly coat. It makes her look like a very angry wasp. Continue reading