The Boss has been talking about me all week. It seems I possess hidden talents. Well, if that is what the Boss thinks, who am I to argue? It started with a new game I have made up. The idea is to rush up the stairs to my favourite bedroom, belonging to the young human they call ‘Zoe’, and find something interesting. I manage this with ease most mornings though am always a little put out when Zoe spots me before I can make my getaway as she almost always removes my find and sends me packing. Assuming my mission has been successful and I have found something interesting, I…

“Flossie, sit,” the boss ordered calmly, gathering the lead close to her and straddling me with both legs. Sit? I was already slithering back towards the ditch, all sense of propriety gone.

  “I think it was a sock…”  so says the Boss as she retrieves a soggy wet lump of grey material from the grass beneath the whirligig thing holding their clothes. Now, far be it from me to offer an opinion but seems to me, if these humans leave their socks lying around then they must expect to lose one or two. “Oh, Flossie – you rascal – naughty girl…” Now, wait a minute, that sock was won fair and square. Pegged loosely onto the line it dangled enticingly before my eyes. I kept watch on it for well over an hour in between sporadic attempts to reach it by…

No sooner have I arrived than I hear I am to be the author of a monthly blog – wow! This sudden rise to doggy literary fame is a little daunting for one so young and I am more than a tad in awe of my predecessor into whose pawprints I warily tread.