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My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 5

I did a brilliant sick on the first day. Tons of it. Sloshed all over the place. She told Him that I’d chucked up a pizza. Which was a big fat fib. I’d only had my usual brown crunchies, a red Christmas cracker that nobody wanted, and half a tub of guppy flakes. It was only a small tub, too.

My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 4

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.

My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 3

I’ve been living in the fast lane. Or at least I’ve been spending hours and hours in the car. Every time we go out, we go twice, and we always end up back at home. I like home. It’s where my bones are. And my bed. And socks.

My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 2

It’s been all go these past two weeks — going on the kitchen floor, on the living room floor, on the hall floor, and occasionally on the grass.

My Memoir by Watson – Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night… when, with a good deal of whining and wailing, my mother gave birth to nine of us. Gone were the cosy days of compact living in a snug sac. I was licked off by a rough tongue then flipped over for a quick check of my private parts. Turns out I’m one adorable son of a bitch.