George Woof here, slurping onto the first instalment of ‘Woof Wednesday’s’.
This time of year you can find me horse-kicking the blankets to a nice mounded mess, complete with garden earth dust, white fluff and the odd blade of grass. I oft Woof, for no apparent reason, and I pretty much jump up and down a lot, or do my Irish Dancing with clicky claws across the hard flooring…to which seems to acquire rather a lot of attention from Mummy, who applauds me with shout’s from her writing room!
I am due my… shhh…don’t want Mummy to hear…my bubble-bath, not to mention that dreaded electronic mouse yolk that eats my fur, taking with it all my hard-earned dog whiff
For some reason Mummy tries also to cut my beautiful nails, to which I simply refuse with much protest, after all, there are woman who pay a fortune to get long curly hook nails like mine, so why on earth would I allow mine to be hacked with a contraption much like a hand-held guillotine!
Anyhow, I’ve much woofing to do at all those black winging things that dare to taunt me, they know all to well I can’t reach them, and they fly-over anyway. Woof.
Stay tuned, to steal a well used quote…
I’ll Be Back ~ Woof
P.S. I like to call myself that, Mummy tends to go more for ‘King George your Heinous’, (yes, I noticed the bad spelling there too!) or Git.