Well, there’s exciting! It appears my fame knows no limits. As is right and proper. Although probably best to draw a veil over being famed as “the slightly mental broken Bernese”. Because that’s just rude. But hey, any publicity, as they say!
Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. How have I become aware of my burgeoning reputation? I hear you ask, dear reader. Well, here’s the thing.
These are not required for normal operation of your BMD
Sometimes I worry about my Humans, I really do. I mean, you think they’re doing quite well, and settling in. Everything’s going OK. Most of their bizarre and erratic behaviours start to tail off. And then they just go utterly weird on you.
A couple of weeks ago mine suddenly went from their (contextual baseline) normal selves into right oddballs.
Or “You’re going to cut WHAT off?!”
Happy but Wasted
Just lately I have had lots and lots of trips to The Vet. Which is basically A-MAZ-ING!
In fact, They were beginning to suspect me of fabricating issues just to get to go more often. Gross, offensive and false accusations, obviously, but I can see where They were coming from.
However, it does have to be said that although my enthusiasm for all things The Vet is utterly undiminished, I have had some rather delicate indignities visited upon my person in the last few weeks.
Apologies, dear reader (readers? echoing void?) for I have been a lax dog, and have been far too busy with important things such as eating, sleeping, and passing wind to jot down these little notes to the Universe. But Time has passed, and I return, at least briefly.
Now, I’m not much of a religious dog, but I do believe that the writer of Ecclesiastes may have had a point when they wrote that there is a time for everything. Although I find myself concerned about some of the serious omissions in that famous list. What of a time for barking at the neighbours? A time for scaring the wotsits out of the courier? A time for punching Them on the sofa until they get me a chew and groom me? A time for walking into a room, belching in someone’s face, then sitting down to fart happily? Major gaps in an otherwise insightful piece of poetry.
Anyway, I digress. For not only is there a Time for everything, there is also a Place. This is important. Very important.
But first, a warning. Dear reader, if reader there be, should you be of a delicate disposition I advise you to stop here, for today I must discuss the vital but perhaps base matter of … defecation.
Pub selfie! (Focus courtesy of BEER)
Apparently I am an Anxious Dog. Personally I prefer to think of it as natural prudence, but whatever, They insist that I have “Issues”. They actually say it like that – capital I, scare quotes, ominous tone, the whole thing.
Weirdos.
Upside, though, is that I have been going to The Pub quite a lot. This is supposed to help, although I’m not convinced it’s anything other than an excuse. Also, I got to spend some more time with Julie (Thinking Paws) which is always good.
So, herewith a few pics to commemorate some recent trips to … The Pub.