SCOUSER IN KENT; The dog's blog

Been on a quick visit to see Joey (the Labrador, remember?). We chased each other and a ball around the garden of Carrot Cottage. Thinks he's so clever because he can fly right up in the air to catch it. But then I can jump up on all fours when I see my lead coming off the hanger by the door. All he ever does is sit there and wag his tail. We can all do that.
When he started showing off to my human, I raced him to the ball, caught it and hid it. He searched everywhere and still doesn't know where it is. No I'm not telling. I'll dig it up and torment him with it on my next visit. Yeah, I know I shouldn't be so horrible, but why does he always have to rise to the bait? I love him, really. Just don't believe in letting him know. A girl has to play hard to get, doesn't she? Keeps life interesting.
Finlay came home from school with an amazing model of Pingu that he made himself. Pingu's that daft-looking penguin on TV. Anthony's another Pingu fan. Myself, I prefer those gorgeous real-life white wolves you see prowling around the Arctic. On telly.
Finlay's really nifty with his fingers. You should see all the fantastic model aeroplanes he's made from kits (things in boxes, not kittens). He paints them and lines them up. They're brill. Michael and Oeda have given him his own little work-station in a corner of the dining room with a desk, a chair and a big strong light. He mixes up all his own paints too. Next we know, he'll be building himself a car. And that'll be great, because he might let me sit in the boot. I love doing that. Though I prefer sitting inside on the seats, not that anyone actually lets me do that. Do kit-cars have boots, anyone?
Mention of kits reminds me... little Loonie is getting to be a real big cat now. Nearly as big as Jimmy. And my tail still goes round in a circle when I see them both. Can't think why.
I can smell food... and I'm starving. Must be grub time. Gotta go. Byeeee

SCOUSER IN KENT; THE DOG'S BLOG

Friday, February 1
Ye gods, is it a month since my last blog?
Yep, it's me again, Tilly-Mint.
My human has been monopolising the computer sending e-mails out to everyone promoting her latest book. Wouldn't let me near it (the computer, I mean, not the book... though, that too, I suppose).
Then when she did leave the machine - and me - to go off chatting to the media, I seized my opportunity, galloped upstairs and into the room where she keeps the computer. All excited, I leaped up onto her desk and logged in. Then, waddya know... I forgot my password. How stupid is that?
After much head and bottom-scratching I decided I wasn't going to let a blooming machine beat me. So I got myself a new password. It's a really filthy one. A word known only to dogs, so my human wouldn't understand it even if she did ever come across it. But that's not going to happen because she'll never get to know it, right?
She's out again this morning and doesn't even know I'm hammering away here at the keyboard. Us dogs are far more clever than you humans think. Or should that be 'we dogs..?' Never was any good at grammar. Takes me all my time to spell. But then what do you expect? We don't spend years and years sitting at a school desk. Street cred, that's what we have. It makes us much more savvy. And I can tell you one thing for sure. I've been round the block a few times so I know.
Yeah, right, maybe animals can't write books like you two-legged clever clogs, though some do. Remember the Downing Street cat... and Roy Hattersley's Buster? Now there's one dog I'd really like to meet. Maybe one day...
Oh no, I think I can hear melady's key in the door. So I'll have to log off and take up my position at the bottom of the stairs, eyes shut, pretending to have been asleep all the time she was out. Gotta dash. See you later. Byeeee