Ginny is trying to kill me
It's a suspicion that has long been building up at the back of my mind. The evidence:
No. 1. On several occasions she has tried to strangle me. She keeps putting this band around my neck and then pulling it as tight as she can. Then she wedges a couple of fingers between my neck and the band and pulls it. While she'd doing this she's reading a book called: New Dog in the Family, which advises that you should be able to get two fingers between the collar and the neck. I'll give them two fingers! Anyway this collar thing started off in small bouts. Ginny would wrestle me to the ground, then buckle it tight around my neck until my eyes were popping out and then leave it on for a few minutes, feeding me little morsels of roasted chicken. Durrr. Have you ever tried to swallow anything while your neck has been constricted to half its size? It was hard but I managed. Where food is concerned it's important to overcome these obstacles.
Ginny has progressed over the past couple of weeks from just strangling me for a few minutes a day to now when I have to wear this thing all day. I have a go at scratching it off but nothing shifts it. It looks like I'm stuck with it. And the worst thing is she's tied a couple of dangling pendants to the buckle so every time I move I hear ringing in my ears. It's driving me crazy. Festus is overjoyed. It means he can hear me coming, so no more pouncing on the unsuspecting, fur-ball.
No 2. She's taken me to the V - E - T twice to be stabbed. That's no way to treat a puppy. I thinks there's a conspiracy to inflict pain on me. It's quite funny she doesn't say the word 'vet' in front of me - she's obviously cottoned on to the fact that I have a superior intelligence - she spells it out V - E - T. When she draws breathe to whisper the letters I instantly know something's up. Another word that is spelt out is B - I - S - C - U - I - T. I suppose if you're an American dog your owner would spell out C - O - O - K - I - E? Clive always has a biscuit with his cup of tea and he has taken to offering me a few crumbs (when Ginny's not looking). So now as soon as I hear that tin I know it's snack time. To prevent me begging from the table, which is said by humans to be bad manners, Ginny has taken to spelling out the word biscuit. It won't work though. I know there are biscuits around long before a word has been said. That's because I can hear the lid coming off the biscuit tin from 1000 paces. Wherever I am in the house - and thanks to my persistence I now have free run of the Philpott maison - I come running as soon as the lid is pried off.
That's the end of today's blog, I'll keep you posted on the attempts to harm me.
And many thanks for the comments I've had from you. I have yet to meet any real live dogs since my arrival at The Philpotts, it's great to know that I have canine friends in cyberspace.
No. 1. On several occasions she has tried to strangle me. She keeps putting this band around my neck and then pulling it as tight as she can. Then she wedges a couple of fingers between my neck and the band and pulls it. While she'd doing this she's reading a book called: New Dog in the Family, which advises that you should be able to get two fingers between the collar and the neck. I'll give them two fingers! Anyway this collar thing started off in small bouts. Ginny would wrestle me to the ground, then buckle it tight around my neck until my eyes were popping out and then leave it on for a few minutes, feeding me little morsels of roasted chicken. Durrr. Have you ever tried to swallow anything while your neck has been constricted to half its size? It was hard but I managed. Where food is concerned it's important to overcome these obstacles.
Ginny has progressed over the past couple of weeks from just strangling me for a few minutes a day to now when I have to wear this thing all day. I have a go at scratching it off but nothing shifts it. It looks like I'm stuck with it. And the worst thing is she's tied a couple of dangling pendants to the buckle so every time I move I hear ringing in my ears. It's driving me crazy. Festus is overjoyed. It means he can hear me coming, so no more pouncing on the unsuspecting, fur-ball.
No 2. She's taken me to the V - E - T twice to be stabbed. That's no way to treat a puppy. I thinks there's a conspiracy to inflict pain on me. It's quite funny she doesn't say the word 'vet' in front of me - she's obviously cottoned on to the fact that I have a superior intelligence - she spells it out V - E - T. When she draws breathe to whisper the letters I instantly know something's up. Another word that is spelt out is B - I - S - C - U - I - T. I suppose if you're an American dog your owner would spell out C - O - O - K - I - E? Clive always has a biscuit with his cup of tea and he has taken to offering me a few crumbs (when Ginny's not looking). So now as soon as I hear that tin I know it's snack time. To prevent me begging from the table, which is said by humans to be bad manners, Ginny has taken to spelling out the word biscuit. It won't work though. I know there are biscuits around long before a word has been said. That's because I can hear the lid coming off the biscuit tin from 1000 paces. Wherever I am in the house - and thanks to my persistence I now have free run of the Philpott maison - I come running as soon as the lid is pried off.
That's the end of today's blog, I'll keep you posted on the attempts to harm me.
And many thanks for the comments I've had from you. I have yet to meet any real live dogs since my arrival at The Philpotts, it's great to know that I have canine friends in cyberspace.
posted by Arrow at 6:35 AM
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