My Memoirs by Watson – Chapter 4
There’s always something going on in my house. There’s a lot going on outside my house, too. Every time we went for a walk, the wind blew back my ears and leaves landed on my head. She laughed, which was rude, so I refused to look at Her when She wanted to take my picture. A pup has his pride. But if you look closely at my pic, you can see that I now have a grown-up collar. How smart is that? Almost as smart as me, right?
The cats thought they were so clever when they left their food bowls lying around on the kitchen counter. Ha! I showed them. I pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table, climbed onto the chair, stepped onto the table and across to the counter. Yum!
While I was up there, I helped myself to a spare paper carrier bag. That was fun, until it went soggy and broke. The cats say bags are so last never. Boxes are the biz. But if I want real fun with a carrier bag, I should try sticking my head in a plastic one. I felt bad for stealing their food then. I think they want to be friends.
In a way, I feel sorry for the cats. They don’t get to go to puppy school. It’s epic. Six dogs sit around a room and wait for the lady with the treats to start handing them out. Then she makes our Hes and Shes give us more treats. The more we don’t get the new trick right, the more treats we get. So, we play dumb. The puppy school lady thinks I’m smart: she says I’m trickiest.
My pal Suki is in the same class. She’s smaller than me but they say she was born first. I think that’s just to make her feel better. She only comes up to my tummy and I can eat chew sticks faster than her. In fact, I ate my chew stick and threw it back up before she’d even finished hers. I don’t think my She took a pic of that though. She was in a hurry to clean up the mess and get out of the café.
Have I mentioned that I love food? We made biscuits the other day. I offered to sit on the kitchen table and help, but She made it quite clear that She needed all the space.
The brown stuff got bigger and bigger and smelled so good. But every time I edged close enough to lick, She coughed. Put me right off, I can tell you. And then She said good boy! Humans are weird.
So’s snow. That’s the other thing going on outside. I don’t mind the cold. But the wet is the wrong kind. What’s the point of a wet you can’t paddle in?
And She wouldn’t let me chase the kids sliding down the slope on flat things, either. But snowballs are the best. And we don’t need to get them from the bone shop.
We went to the bone shop the other day and boom! I was wrestled to the ground and bits of my claws were cut off. I decided to play along but I’ll be ready for her next time. Then again, the cutter lady called me handsome. And I like that shop. There’s plenty of good stuff and I don’t need to climb to grab it.
I have to grab stuff. My teeth still itch. It’s awful. He called me Pacman. What’s up with that? Lord Pacman sounds funny. One of my back teeth fell out. She showed the others and they all said aww. Aww? Ow, more like it. Doesn’t hurt really. Just itches. Chew sticks come, and chew sticks go. Socks and sleeves are forever.
Now here’s a newsflash: I’m pretty sure that I’m getting an indoor loo. I’ve been watching the bigger dogs pee against trees and She definitely said that we are going to buy the tree this weekend. And it’s going in the living room! There’s been a big discussion about how tall it should be. Someone suggested a smaller tree on a table this year (knew my table climbing skills would be appreciated), but everyone else pooped pooped the idea and said a proper tree should be a proper tree. And quite right, too. Just wish that they’d thought of this weeks ago. And the cats can’t complain, you never see them in the garden at 5 a.m. when it’s dark and freezing cold. It’s enough to give a pup frost fright.
Right then. That’s your lot for now, I’ve just spotted a plastic bag. Stay tuned!