An unexpected and univited change in sleeping arrangements...

To my two-legged friends. I must sincerely apologise for me absence of late. It is far from acceptable and I shall endeavour to be more regular with my posting.

But I do have a good excuse. Mum has been really busy lately with writing essays and other boring human stuff so I haven't been able to get to the computer that often. The only time she's really off it is when she's taking me for a walk- and I obviously can't use it then.

Anyway, my main reason for writing this little blog post is to complain (I know it's not in my nature, but I just can't hold this one in any longer) about the new sleeping arrangements. Mum has this right comfy king size bed and I managed to call dibs on a cushty little spot under the covers at the bottom. It was soooo cozy and I have slept there for months.

Then one day a couple of weeks ago she just says: 'Right Rowdy, there'll be no more sleeping on my bed.' I, of course, thought she was joking and kept trying to get on, but she just kept making that really annoying 'aa aa' noise that tells me not to do something and saying, 'no Rowdy, on your bed.'

What a jip! Why the change? I have my suspicions, but once I find out for sure this battle can begin for real. 

Lots of Pictures of Me!

Hey there everybody. I thought that by now you were probably getting bored of the one picture of me at Sherwood Forest... and it's been a while since I posted, so I thought I would show you what I have been up to in my absence. Please comment and I hope you enjoy them!

Making Road Walks More Interesting: A Dog's Guide

I have always found the most enjoyable part of any day to be my morning and afternoon walks. I especially love it when we get to the park and mum lets me off the lead so I can go and have a good tinkle or sniff some bitch's bum. The part of walks that I have always found a little bit boring is the walk on the pavement bit on the way to and from the park- all that incessant 'Heel boy,' 'Close boy,' 'Rowdy, no, don't chase that squirrel into the road,'  brings me down.

If you feel the same way, I think I may have found a remedy. Mum doesn't seem to be that keen on it, which makes the whole thing even more satisfying- she is being rather strict at the moment. She has started keeping me on the lead even in the park a lot of the time now. 'You can't bark at joggers, Rowdy,' 'Rowdy, no,' 'Here Rowdy,' 'Fetch Rowdy,' 'Three bags full Rowdy,'- but I digress...

...My new source of entertainment has been there the whole time, but I just didn't realise it. It comes in the form of traffic. Cars, vans, buses, scooters, forget bikes and joggers. These are bigger and faster and far more fun to chase after. If it weren't for that annoying lead she keeps me on, I'd show them who's boss. Nearly had it out of her hand the other day- will have to work on my technique. 

I don't really care if mum doesn't like it. This makes up for all those tmes she laughed about my balls and talked about my poo. Who's laughing now? Me, that's who.

Poo

I have never been so embarrassed in my life- and that is no small order given the recent removal of my testicles and the public gayfest that I suspect has my castration at least partly to blame.

My mother (if that is her real name) seems to have this obsession at the moment with talking about my excrement. Sometimes with complete strangers! I have come to learn that the reason for the introduction of organic rabbit and brown rice (aka really really boring) food is because I have a 'sensitive stomach.'

I do not have much chance of finding myself a nice bitch anyway now that I am effectively a woman, but if everybody at the park finds out that I have a 'sensitive' anything I'm done for.

People who walk dogs do that thing though where they do not really know what to say to each other, but they see each other every day, so they feel like they have to say something. So instead of embarrassing themselves with uncomfortable silences, they embarrass us by talking about our balls, how much we fart and the general consistency of our faeces. Is there any need for such potty talk?

I had been wondering why she has always had this thing about picking up my poo. So I started to play this game where I go to the longest grass that I could find to do my stuff- just to make it a bit more of a challenge for her.

I suppose that although having a dicky tummy has meant taking me off of Bakers and onto Healthy Paws organic food, it has also meant that she has started baking me organic treats too. Liver's my favourite, but she did these really nice peanutty honey things. One of those with a lick of water from my bowl in an afternoon is simply heavenly. Oh Lord, I think my hormones are starting to change. I intend to bark, howl and scent mark everything until I am physiologically unable to do so.

Life Without Balls

It has been exactly one week to the day since that fateful visit to the vet. Since then, I have not been allowed off of the lead, my mum has changed my food to some organic shit and the gravy bones that I loved so much have been swapped for (but will never be replaced by) oat and peanut biscuits!

I had almost come to terms with losing my most valuable and impressive assets, that stupid cone thing they put on my head that seemed to make every corner an automatic challenge went within a couple of days and I have even refrained from licking my stitches in an attempt to prevent my mum removing any more of my anatomy.

What I really just can not come to terms with is the lead. Granted, it is longer than the last one, but I am a whippet cross. Has she never heard the phrase 'like a whippet?' It means really really fast and gives a hint that we might like to run a bit. What is more is that whilst on this lead- that is supposed to protect me- I got humped today by a labrador called Spike. They have taken my balls, they can take my sexuality, but they will never take my freedom.

As William Wallace (or at least Mel Gibson in the film Braveheart) once said: 'It's all for nothing, if you don't have freedom.' What do we want? Freedom! When do we want it? Now!

One Ball Down, Two to Go

Lost my tennis ball in the park today, but fear that that particular ball is the least of my worries. She has said it so many times and not followed through with it that I just assumed that she was joking.

I thought we had an understanding, but she has tried to justify herself by saying something about barking at one or two things like bikes, men without dogs, men that smell of booze, men in general and anything that walks passed the house. She even had the gall to tell me it was for my own good! Earth to mum! I'm nearly one and a half years old- I think I am old enough to decide what is best for me.

She has scheduled the date for Thursday. I know this because we walked down to the vets last week and saw that crazy blonde girl with the scary Rottweiler that tries to play with me all the time and doesn't seem to realise that he is HUGE and would definitely crush me.

So it's off to castration kennel for me. My pride and joy. It just won't be the same on a windy day and how am I supposed to let everybody know who's top dog without being able to roll on my back and display my plums?

Alex and Liam will never let me live this down and definitely will not respect my territory or my authority. I bet they'll think it's funny. Humans are evil. And the bitches at the park will be so disappointed. I better get plenty of treats for this.

Sexual Frustration

I met this well sexy bitch yesterday. She was possibly a little bit young for me, but I'm not after anything long term and I could tell that she wanted me.

Her name was Daisy and she was a little Dalmatian and she was gorgeous. The main problem is that she has a bit of an overprotective father. All I did was try to hump her a little bit, but we should possibly have waited until we were alone and somewhere a little more private. Her dad wasn't very happy- something about 'taking his baby's virginity.'

He wasn't letting her off the lead anyway. We chased around for a bit, but I kept catching her glancing at me and wiggling her bum. Tease.

Mum's quite cool and understanding, but she is a bit funny where sex is concerned. How else am I supposed to get rid of all this pent up sexual tension? Perhaps I should just stick with the cushions for now.