Saturday 26 February 2011

A Word From One Of The More Intelligent Members Of The Household.

Hello.

I have been asked me to write this blog. It seems that Baldy there is too busy. I'm not sure what's going on but there seems to be a lot of excitement around the house at the moment.

But first let me introduce myself. In fact, I'll show you who I am.........
















Cute ain't I? I'm Freddie. And Baldy there is part of my herd.

You see, he thinks he owns me. Not a chance. Sure he paid money for me. And he puts a lead on me and walks me around like he owns me.

But who is the one that feeds me. Who is the one who goes out to work to buy my food? Who is the one that clears up after me when I take a du.........erm...........have a bowel movement.

And what DOES he do with that stuff anyway? I'm just glad to be rid of it, but he collects it like it's a precious material or something! What's THAT all about! I've tried to help the poor bugger out by producing more. One day, I must've pooped about 10 times. And EVERY time, he just scooped straight it up. I had to give up in the end. There's only so often I can go without going cross eyed. And loosing vital organs.

Anyway, that's the gross part of this blog outta the way. A bit about me.

I'm a 5 year old border collie. I am part of a breed of dog that is widely regarded as the more intelligent variety. Between you and me though, I'm only just intelligent enough to be completely freakin' nuts. Well, so would you be if you'd had done to you what he's had done to me!

When I was about 6 months old, I was taken to see what I thought was I nice lady. She stroked me and talked to me nicely. I liked her.

Until she stuck a sodding great needle in my bum. Boy did I yelp! After a short while though, I began to feel a little tired. Then VERY tired. Not unlike baldy when he's had a few of those special bottles of that drink he likes.

I certainly went down as quick as he does after a few. I was out for the count. I wasn't asleep for very long. Maybe an hour or so. But when I woke up. Oh crap was I in pain!

When Baldy wakes up from his sleeps after drinking his beer and complains of a headache. And sometimes makes funny noises down the white porcelain thing in the 'smelly' room. The big wuss. He should have woken up with the pain I was in that day. And not only that, the 'bit's' that were hurting were no longer there! My entire 'boydog doggy bag area' was gone. GONE! What the hell was that all about! I was only licking it a couple of hours earlier! Of all the body parts they could have taken, they had to take them! They were my favourite bits. I know we don't live in a particularly good area, but blimey! They'll nick ANYTHING around here!

I heard Baldy explain to someone later that he had it done to calm me down. CALM ME DOWN? You try being calm when your knackers are in a seperate room to you! I was too frightened to sleep for weeks after that, wondering if I would wake up and find other parts of me missing.

I'm trying to convince Mrs B to have the same thing done to old Baldy there. Not that she needs any convincing at all. She agrees that it needs doing. The signs are there that it needs doing. Although I think in baldy's case, it's probably a case of 'you can't remove what ain't there'.

I have lived here with Baldy and Mrs B since I was 8 weeks old. It's actually not so bad. Sure, there are times when voices are raised. 'Get down' or 'Your dirty boy' or 'Stop sniffing the cat's butt'. All aimed at Baldy. I gave all that stuff up a while back. He just seemed better at it than me.

Now, I've heard people say that dogs look like there owners. Well, let me assure you that is definitely NOT the case here. As you can see, I am cute, fluffy and cuddly. He on the other hand, is a cows arse.

One of the big advantages I have over humans is my excellent sense of smell. But around here, living with him, that is a DISadvantage. Although he is a particularly ugly example of the human race, I can at least look away. There's nothing I can do to escape the smell though. It's everywhere.

And he craves attention. All the time. Always coming up to me for a stroke and a bit of rough and tumble. I spend half my life pretending to be asleep just to avoid being that close to him.

Anyway, that's enough for now. It's taken me ages to type this. Qwerty keyboards are not what you might call dog friendly you know. But hey, when you've got looks, who needs typing skills!

And he's getting those bags out again. He's looking to add to his collection. He's gonna be disappointed. I went out with Mrs B earlier and gave it to her instead.

Favoritism? Too right!

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