Scouser in Kent

THE DOG'S BLOG, continued.
Friday, January 4.
Happy New Year, all. Do hope you got some lovely bones and chewies in your stockings. Yup, I did. And Bronson's present to me was a cake... no, not the sort my human would bake if she knew how (even the birds refuse what she cooks!). This was a squeaky toy that I'm having great fun tossing in the air and flying up to catch it before it lands. I'm good at flying. Been copying the birds.
For an old dog I think I'm pretty fit because when it's time for me to go out I leap in the air with excitement and everyone thinks its funny that I can jump so high with all four feet off the floor.
Cod liver oil is what keeps me so fit and well-toned. I have it mixed with my lunch every day and I luuuurve it.
We had a house guest during the week between Christmas and New Year. Joey, the labrador. Everything was fine until about nine o'clock on New Year's Eve when the first of the bangs started and I noticed him quivering in the corner, shaking and drooling with his big floppy ears pinned back. Fireworks don't bother me in the least, but I thought Joey was going to have a nervous breakdown before the night was out. Do dogs have nervous breakdowns? I ignored him (no time for wimps) but my human (Monica) fuss around him and that made him even worse. So she shut all the doors, windows and curtains and gave the pair of us wall-to-wall Wagner. Full blast. Honestly, folks, I don't know which was worse, the fireworks or the music. I felt sorry for the neighbours but when she went to apologise they said they didn't hear it. I reckon they're just being polite. They're lovely, Audrey and Phillip. Always say hello to me and stroke my ears when they see me.
Then there's Sally, the Dobermann Pinscher (that how you spell it?) who lives two doors away. In the summer we chat to each other across the garden wall. Our humans say they'd love to know what we're saying. Well, doggy gossip is private and none of their business so they can just carry on wanting.
I do miss the Scouse accent, though. Still. And I don't come across it much down here. There was one little dog called Duffy, whose owner was a Liverpudlian but sadly Duffy isn't around any more. I liked her and I miss her. I get all nostalgic for those nasal tones.
Hey... what's this I see out the window? Who's the big hairy monster coming out of the house on the corner? Have we a new dog on the block or is he just visiting? Gotta go...this needs investigating. Byeee...