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.