I think it’s time I restarted my blog. Linda and I are coping as best as we can without David, but it’s not easy. As I’m now the man of the house, I think it’s my place to help her all I can.
David used to do most of the shopping, and I know food shopping is something Linda hates (I believe it’s a different story when it comes to shoes, handbags and dresses). So I decided to help out. I thought if I put my excellent hunting skills to good use, I could catch her dinner for her and that would save her a trip to the supermarket. So, the other morning when some friends took me for my walk, I kept my eyes and ears open and sniffed around for rabbits.
I picked up a scent and shot off, only to trip over — a rabbit. I think it was hiding from me, but there was no time to be sentimental. This was Linda’s dinner. I grabbed the rabbit and took it back to my friends. They weren’t as enthusiastic about my haul as I was and muttered something about it being a hare and not a rabbit. I looked pleadingly at them, hoping they would let me take it home for Linda to cook. But no, they let it go and Linda had to make do with a salad.
It’s not only my hunting skills that aren’t appreciated. Sometimes I think that not everyone acknowledges my fine breeding. Last weekend, my friend Michael was looking after me while Linda went to the ballet with friends. (I wasn’t even asked if I wanted to go.) Michael decided to take me out and — can you believe this?— used a piece of string as a lead. He didn’t even attempt to accessorise it with my diamante collar.