I endured the torture of the smell of that bacon stuff this morning aboard the floatyboatyhome of humanfriends Rob and Trish. And sausages too! Not an atom of any of it fell my way! Then I worked my paws off workywalkiesing Mum to the train station, then all through Newbury town to the vets. When we got there, I didn't even get to see the nice vet who gave me yummies before. I didn't get to see any vet at all. I just had to sit and wait while Mum did some yacketying and then collected a little package from the ladyhuman behind the desk. Then I had to sit on that hard shiny mat that tells them my numbers. Apparently my numbers have gone up a bit. So, despite aaaaaallll my hard work, Mum has the audacity to inform me that my rations need to be reduced!
About 7 or 8 miles worth of workywalkies should surely mean 7 or 8 times more food .........
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| Photo of me sitting inside our floatyboatyhome, beside the big white coldcupboardthing, on the slippery wooden floor. My back legs have done the splits and are all splayed out sideways. I am looking straight towards the camera with a very sad but hopeful pleading face. |
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