Our neighbour loves dung. He brings it to his farm all the time, then he spreads it everywhere. I don’t know why he does this, because his trees don’t seem to get any bigger. So maybe he just likes dung as much as I do.

Anyhoo, the boys on the mountain and me like to snaffle a quick snack now and then. Then daddy yells at me. So what? I forgot daddy hates dung! But he’ll get over it, and in the meantime….

How do I know this? Well, it takes extensive experimentation. Luckily for me, my minions that live in the house below ours always spread dung under their trees, so there is plenty of experimental fodder (har har. geddit?) All of us dogs who live on my mountain like it that he leaves snacks out for us, although it seems to make my mummy and daddy cross.

It also makes them cross when I vomit on the stairs in the middle of the night. Parents can be so odd.

But not my parents! They have been very cruel. They have left me in the dog run with my hippo bum brother Fitz, and they have not fed me any special food. At all. (OK, I had a few treats, but I’m sure they promised me steak every day!)

And today? Even worse. They made me feel crummy this morning, so I threw up. And my brother Fitz had my breakfast and his breakfast, which is sooooo unfair!

I am definitely hoping that next year is better for The Dog.

I do like Christmas for one reason, though. It’s the time of year when my parents finally buy something decent to eat, and they share it with me. (unfortunately they share it with my brother Fitz, too, but that’s another story)

So I saw loads of cheese and special food come through the door last night, and you’d better believe that I will get my share.

Or else Santa gets it!

This looks like food to me!

For days on end, we have been picking olives. Do you know what that means? Walk around, move nets, get yelled at. Repeat 800 times. As you might imagine, a really clever dog like me gets pretty bored!

I want to refer you to my blog from Oct 30th – I am undergoing torture, an exact replica of that Togetherness.

Just saying.

In fact, Fitz often says he is teeny tiny, and he also believes he can fit into teeny tiny places.

So, Fan Club, why is it that my brother weighs more than me. He runs into me and bumps me and it hurts. He eats more than I do and he takes up more space in Dog Bed.

I ask you. How can a little brother be so huge? No wonder he has a hippo bum.

He thinks he is a puppy, but he’s a huge hippo bum, and he takes all the bed and he gets in my way and he plays with daddy.

Really, I think I need to take a holiday with just my daddy and leave mummy here with Fitz for awhile.

So when autumn comes, I feel a bit sad. It rains sometimes so I get wet and muddy paws. Then my daddy has to dry me with a towel, and I hate that. And the door is shut so I can’t go out and play Run and Jump whenever I want to.

But the nice thing about the end of summer is that I get to cuddle more. I get Cuddle On The Couch with Daddy before his shower, then I get to cuddle with mummy while I watch TV. Nice.

The only bad thing is that my brother Fitz likes to cuddle sometimes, too, and I hate that.