At last. A decent blog. Written by the other member of the Fraser Allen Communications team. 🐶
The old boy tells me I’m not pulling my weight. Apparently, I “do nothing but bark at the postman and sleep”, so he’s made me write a blog. Brilliant. Has he got any idea how difficult it is to type with paws?
He wants me to write about what happens here on a typical day. Riveting – his days look even more boring than mine. But here goes. I follow him downstairs every morning at 7.30am, when he makes my sister’s packed lunch. At least, I think she’s my sister but she walks on two legs and definitely gets preferential treatment. He then forces me into the garden, whatever the weather. So undignified.
After eating the same rubbish food every day, I head upstairs for a nap, and he heads up too, drinking coffee and muttering to himself about the Met Office. He then shuts himself in his office and turns on the dreaded ‘music’. It’s loudest at the beginning of the day when he’s “getting settled and checking my emails”. What a racket. Sometimes I have to cover my ears with my paws. This morning it sounded like an industrial catastrophe was taking place, but apparently it was Einstürzende Neubauten. Then when he’s writing, he plays weird floaty music. So pretentious.
I don’t see much of him for a while until the postman shows up and I get proper barky. The old boy usually shouts at me to shut up, which really winds me up. What else am I supposed to do? He flippin’ made me head of security!
He used to take me out for a long walk at lunchtime but I’m getting a bit past it these days and struggle to manage more than a short scamper in the woods. That’s not enough for him though, so he’s started going out again without me, which is just plain rude. Even worse, some days he puts on (OMG) Lycra and goes for a ‘run’. Oh my days, what a sight.
Several times a week, he also moves down to the living room for an hour or so (“better ambience” apparently) and talks to people through his computer for online meetings. I used to join in by jumping up onto his knees and licking him but he’s banned me. He’s just jealous. They always seemed to like me much more than him.
He’s a funny old thing. He pretends that he doesn’t like me and calls me terrible things like ‘peabrain’, ‘asbo’ and ‘emergency rations’. But when we’re alone, he often checks in on me, tickling my tummy, ruffling my ears and speaking to me in a strange high-pitched voice. And if he thinks I look cold, he puts me in a cosy little doggy jumper. He says it makes me look like George Michael in the Last Christmas video.
When work’s finished, he starts making the dinner, and I tend to hang around as he gives me the odd treat, like a bit of fish or a few steak offcuts. But by then, thank goodness, the rest of the family are home. They’re a bit more, how can I put it, charismatic. When my mum comes home, she gives me loads of kisses and cuddles and tells me how handsome I am. She doesn’t do that to him 😜.
And my sister is super busy in the evenings. She sings in a choir, plays tennis and is starting the Duke of Edinburgh scheme. Before I got old, she also used to take me to dog agility classes where we’d run around an obstacle course in a field together. That was brilliant fun. Memories, memories.
After dinner, if the old boy’s not out doing one of his weird night walks with a headtorch on or, heaven preserve us, recording himself singing and playing the guitar, he watches boring football matches. He also reads the newspaper every night. He makes weird facial expressions when he’s doing it and says thinks like “did you know that the best-selling cheese in France is Emmenthal?” We all ignore him.
By 10pm, I can’t wait to go to bed. I like my beauty sleep. And then, the next day, the same thing starts all over again. But of course, being a dog, I love a routine. The old boy talks about how he used to be adventurous when he was younger, getting into all kinds of scrapes 🥱 but now I think he likes a routine too.
Anyway, enough about him. If you want some decent content, follow me on Instagram. Woof.