Woody’s Dog Blog

I have become the victim of fattism. People seem to think it’s ok to tell me I look porky. I have had no option but to embark on a strict fitness regime. I’ve nicked a dog frisbee from work, and it’s brilliant. Although Ma’s frisbee-throwing skills are pitiful, she tries hard and it whacks me out for a few hours.

You can blame it on my babies anyway. If they stopped throwing food on the floor I’d stop eating it.

One of them’s got chickenpox at the moment. He’s got spots absolutely everywhere; on his tongue, on the soles of his feet and even places where the sun don’t shine. Must be like having fleas all over you.

The last couple of days, I’ve been on some measly walks I must say. It’s been so wet and grey, and so games of stick and ball have been out of the question really. The grass at home is getting so long it’s almost tickling my belly.

Some people put coats on their dogs. Shoes even. And hoodies! Can you believe it? There’s a shop in the city centre that does a sideline in designer clothes for dogs. It’s ridiculous. They’ll be piercing our ears next. Then our tongues. Then before you know it, we’ll all have tattoos and be reading ‘On Heat’ magazine.

I hate the rain.

Well, I only went on a bus today! First time ever. Apparently one dog is allowed on one bus at any one time. So I was the bus king. For one day. Well one journey actually. One pound fifty it cost my ma. One way. To go one mile (well it might have been two, but two don’t go with the flow). We had to go to a hat shop in the city centre, and I had to sit outside. Lots of passers-by fancied me. One Canadian lady was stroking my head and telling me how she missed her dog back home. Ma asked what sort of dog she had and apparently it was a Charles Van Den Eycken Chien Delions Ooh La La Merci Beaucoup Le Petit Fru Fru. Her little son explained, ‘He’s a French one’.

There’s a song on one of The Wiggles’ dvds (The Wiggles are four funny-looking Aussie blokes, who sing and hypnotise little children into being their dribbling disciples), and it goes like this: ‘Wags the Dog, he likes to tango; Wags the Dog, he calls it rango; Wags the Dog, it rhymes with mango,’ and that’s it. Those three lines make up the whole song. The Wiggles are Australia’s biggest export now; Greg, Anthony, Murray and Jeff are multi-millionaires, earning more than AC/DC and Nicole Kidman combined. Now I don’t care about being a multi-millionaire (see how my rhyming skills laugh at their Wags the Dog effort) but I think that Nicole Kidman is a nice lady and AC/DC have sung some lovely songs, and it seems a bit unfair if you ask me. Anyway what sort of a name is Wags? Might as well have called him Woofs or Licks. Or Pants. Ridiculous.

I went on a cheeky little city break this weekend. More like a break from the city really - I went to stay with my great grandparents for a couple of days. Chased a few rabbits, got irritated by some squirrels, ate some of Nanny’s biscuits, lovely. My mas went off to London, don’t know why, to get away from me do you think? I hope not. They seemed very pleased to see me when they got back so they must have realised what a silly idea it was.

My friend Dotty, who lives in Bath, also went away for a little jolly in the countryside whilst her ma (my aunty) was living it up in York, and when Aunty got home she found her kitchen in a complete mess, glasses strewn all over the place and water all over the floor. Apparently she felt sick as she thought she’d been burgled, so she rushed upstairs to see if her laptop had gone, and guess what, a great big ROOK flew out of the bathroom! Apparently Aunty got such a shock that she screamed and reacted like a small child would. Imagine that, a great big bird in your house. Apparently they grow much bigger when they’re inside as well, like flying DRAGONS so I’ve been told. There was a big clean up operation after the bird had been let out, on account of all the poo he’d left behind during the weekend. Aunty said she went to turn on the radio to sing along whilst cleaning and there was rook poo on all the buttons. It was even dripping off the spokes of her desk fan. Ooh, I would have been so cross at that rook. Well, maybe all these silly humans will think twice about going away without their pooches.