Being a puppy

Arroooo, I am back. Mum has been a bit busy recently, so has been unable to update me, so there is quite a lot to tell.... isn't there? Well, not really, evidently I am a very good boy. Mum says that I am better behaved than Lotte, Nalle and Tallulah were at my age. However, that is not to say that I am all sweetness and light. The sofa now has a hole in it which is getting larger. Mum has to find out if the insurance will cover it back up again? I guess that's what she means by cover? Then the local paper arrived yesterday - see?

It was great fun and made lots of rustling noises. I like rustling noises.
Well, evidently this is what being a puppy is all about.

There is one little secret I need to share with you. Some people believe that as I live with mum, who is not only a trainer, but one of the few qualified behaviour specialists (although now retired, due to her suffering from an auto-immune disease), that somehow I am automatically good and don't get into mischief like their puppies. That just isn't true, because I do. During the past week, mum seemed a little upset about something which I had done, let me tell you about it:

You see, Nalle dog gets a special treat of tuna fish in oil, because it helps his old coat and his aching bones, mum says.
Mum was opening the can, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. Mum looked around and put the can up out of the way. As she was busy talking to the lady who called, I sniffed and sniffed at that beautiful smell, then jumped and jumped to see if I could reach where it was coming from, but I couldn't work out how to get there. "Hmmmm" I thought, there must be a way. I looked at where the smell was coming from, and then looked around to see if I could find something to help me reach it, and yes, I am sure that would do it. So I climbed up on a chair, walked across the top of Nalle's cage and yes - there it was in all its glory. A partially opened can full of this most beautiful smell.

I carefully picked it up and carried it back to where I had been lying on the floor. I put my tongue inside and Mmmmmm, the taste was heavenly. Then mum walked in "where's that fish?" I heard her say. She looked around and then "arrrrrrrgh" she screamed. Suddenly the tin and it's contents were whipped away from me. "How on earth did you manage to get that, eat the contents and not slice your tongue to shreds" shrieked mum. She looked quite frightened, but I didn't know what all the fuss was about, it smelt and tasted so nice, much nicer than chewing up an inanimate object, like Uncle Pete's dog!

I overheard mum and her brother talking on the telebone, and evidently Biba, Uncle Pete's Weimarbanana ate through the wires of his computer and caused damage right down to the motherboard. In other words SHE KILLED IT!

Perhaps I ought to have a chat with Biba and tell her that cans which are full of fish are much nicer to eat.

This week's outing, apart from another agility show, we went to the park by the river. All four of us. It was great fun. I have learned how to steal Nalle's most favorite toy and run off with it.


Then I lost my tail!!!!! Oh help. Where has it gone?

It's really gone! I thought docking was now illegal, unless I am going to be a working dog? But I am a working dog... oh my goodness.

Oh, that is better, Aunt Glynis managed to find it for me and then put it back in place. Phew! That is a relief. Then mum explained that they don't dock Setters in any case.