This is Bilbo.
Recently, you heard from my offsider, Lady, when she snuck onto Mum’s blog. Now, it’s my turn.
Well, I’m the other dog around here…the good dog.
Indeed, I used to be the only dog until my solitude was rudely interrupted by the arrival of that young scallywag, Lady. She certainly knows how to turn an old dog’s world upside down and inside out but I’ve finally come out on top and put that little royal whippersnapper in her place… right at the very bottom of the pecking order!
Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes in my time but I’ve never had the audacity to actually jump on top of the family’s dinner table and eat their dinner. As we all know, it doesn’t pay to bite the hand that feeds you and eating their dinner is a one way trip “outside!!!”
Or, when you’re the new dog on the block and they’re still getting to know you, it can be a way one trip to that place of no return at the top of the hill. I’ve heard rumours about that place, although I’ve never been there myself. Of course, I haven’t been there. I’m a good dog.
I used to be an even better dog. However, what with the kids and the new dog leading me into all sorts of temptation, I’m not quite as good as I used to be.
Indeed, last week the kids let me out just as the postman was going past on that evil two-wheeled contraption of his. Normally, being the good dog that I am, I would have just laid perfectly still at the open front door with my front paws curling ever so slightly over the front step. I don’t move an inch and make no effort whatsoever to join in with the kids’.
Oh no! I’m renowned for my impeccable obedience. Mum and Dad are so proud of me! They even tell the kids they should be better behaved… just like the dog!
That makes me ever so happy! I’m the happiest dog around.
That said, my reputation isn’t without its stains. After all, nobody’s perfect.
You see, I can get a bit grumpy with visitors. However, I prefer to see it as being “protective”. After all, who is that person who keeps picking the kids up in the morning? Can she really be trusted? I know they reappear in the afternoon but really?!!
I’ve already warned you about the postman. They might think he’s bringing them all those precious eBay purchases but you can’t be too sure. This is my family we’re talking about and I’ll defend them to the death. I just need to be a bit more careful. Although I’m the first one to recommend barking ferociously at the postman, I’ve heard biting the posty is a capital offense. That it will be: “all over Red Rover.”
When you’ve been a good dog all your life, you really don’t want to your end to come on death row. So as much as I might want to keep that posty away, I’m not about to thrown my life away through some impetuous response. Next time, I’ll start my deep breathing exercises and slowly count to ten before I lunge off my front step.
Anyway, although I have another story up my sleeve, it’s time for me to go. Lady told me to keep it short. Anyway, now that I’ve finally worked out how to use this weird computer thingy which always sits on Mum’s lap instead of me these days, I’ll be churning out the stories.
In other words, I’ll be back!
So it’s love and paw prints to you all until next time (That is, unless you’re the Posty, someone who rides bicycles or drives our kids to school),