Bunty's list: Bertie reveals his competitive side...

Bertie: the picture of innocence

Remember Bunty? The little border terrier pup who ate my lunch?

Well. She sent me an email the other day.

I know what you're thinking. About time she apologised for that dreadful behaviour. Perhaps she's finally learning some manners.

Not one bit of it.

The email simply read as follows:


Trousers, leaves, pansies (eaten rather than chewed), dressing gown, cardboard boxes, woollen hats, twigs, feet of antique tables, flex, toilet paper, flower pots, combs, remembrance poppies, firewood, shoes, boots, matches, fir cones, newspapers.


This is, of course, a list of household objects she's chewed up so far. I think I'm supposed to be impressed.

Is this some sort of a contest Bunty?

Well let me make a few things quite clear:

1. I too have chewed just about every single item on your pathetic little list, and then some.
2. If Gail had owned any antique furniture, then I certainly would have had a go at that too.
3. Did you see what I did to that egg box?
4. Ditto the dog flap.

Finally Bunty, I would like to bet you half a dozen choice lamb shanks that you can't compete with my proudest achievement to date.

It used to be Gail's favourite cashmere sweater, but I guess it isn't anymore as I haven't seen her wear it lately...

Learning about girls!

So. I have this new neighbour, Bunty. She's a border terrier, just twelve weeks old, and she came round to visit yesterday afternoon.

Well of course I bounced up to greet her with my customary enthusiasm. But she didn't seem to like that at all.

It was all "ooh I'm ever so timid, I just want to be with my Mummy, Mummy please stop that huge beast from jumping all over me, look at me, I'm so cute, with my big brown eyes and slightly trembling fluffy wee body, Mummy I need protecting, please make him go away".

I thought Gail might have sprung to my defence, but no such luck, and I was unceremoniously booted outside while darling Bunty held court in the kitchen.

Hummph.

Eventually, after loud and lengthy protests I was allowed back in and resumed my rightful place on Gail's lap, held tightly (Gail can be surprisingly affectionate at times), as Bunty roamed free.

Well, you won't believe what happened next....

Bunty, suddenly all bold as brass, went and ate MY DINNER!!!!

The little minx!

I was so flabbergasted I could only look on in mute horror.

Lest anyone imagine that this story casts some doubt on my masculinity, I refer you to the picture at the top of this post, in which I am demonstrating my latest accomplishment.