I really don't know what happens to all the days - they just seem to fly by - this is a real problem when you really have to count one day as a week. It's also more of a problem when your Master decides to store you in the garage (like a lawnmower). Of course, Master Craig has lots of justifications - you eat the garden, you dig mines, you escape, you'll get killed - but really the garage is a bit much for a mature dog like myself. I guess it's the difference between sleeping outside and inside (which isn't too bad with winter here - Bathurst, Australia is a reasonably cold place - last year we even had a sprinkling of snow).

Ellie, though, gets to run around all day - if only Master Craig knew what she gets up to. She can jump the fence (5 foot 6 inches) at a standing start and, although I can't always see where she gets over it, I know she does. I'd actually stop her from doing it, if I wasn't always locked in the garage.

Well, Baby Latham is approaching. I saw all the equipment come back from a Sydney shopping spree on the weekend (of course, Ellie and I were left behind). It's not so bad to leave Ellie behind, but I'm really quite a smart shopper and I'm sure that if we were allowed to chat with a few shopkeepers we'd get the price right down. Anyway, back to baby Latham, Master Craig and Mistress Liz haven't yet decided on a name - I think that they're still thinking over Rusty 3, but I wouldn't be surprised to hear the patter of paws held by a "Roger 2" or "Elanor 2". Final naming rights have not been yet decided - although Master Craig and Mistress Liz can't seem to decide between themselves so it is almost certain that a Roger arbitration will be called upon.

Last night, as the cot was being assembled, we were kept at leg's length. I don't see why Master Craig is being so fussy. What with my medical background (I've previously related my story of how my medical career was brought to an early end by canists who simply can't see past a slightly dirty paw in an operating theatre) and my way with contraptions, I could've been very helpful.

Ellie and I have even been barred from returning to prenatal classes - I really think that pregnant women should be more accepting of other species - I truly believe that it was a valid question to ask whether many human babies are born with tails and whether they decide to keep them.

Well, off to the mail:

First, Biscuit La Rue Mays (using the old Master's internet account said:

"I managed to sneak in here this morning. My master left the computer on, like he does now and then, and I just HAD to read about you guys! Look, James amd Patty won't give me my own internet either...James says his kids have to get their own internet first! And all the time, I thought they loved me more! Anyway, I think your story deserved at least three good yaps, so "Yap! Yap! Yap!" By the way, I am a silver poodle and I live inside the house. I let James think he runs the house, but the rest of the family knows better. I like it here, except when James starts singing and playing his guitar...ouch! Sometimes he even has the nerve to try to get me to sing with him, but I'm above that.

Well, Biscuit (if I may call you that), if Baby Latham gets an internet connection before Ellie and I there will be trouble! Master Craig knows that we need the connection and, although Ellie and I don't agree with divorce, I think that Master Craig has grounds to take our doghouse, food and computer in any court battle with Mistress Liz.

Master Craig has also recently taken up the guitar. It does hurt, doesn't it? I don't even think that it's because my hearing is very acute - I think he's just bad... and if I hear Kumbaya just one more time, I think that that guitar will be involved in a bizarre gardening accident.

Next to Juanita's offering:

"It has been a most doggy week on our Large Land Mass. Finally, I get to lie in dark shade on cool, damp dirt, watching stuff out there in the bright sunlight. I have a spot under a dense tree-bush in the corner of the Domain, with railroad ties bordering a pit I've dug around the roots. There is a string of other dense tree-bushes extending in a line to a far corner of the Domain. Birds are above, and once in awhile an opossum or squirrel actually tries to sneak in. Even a cat! Can you believe it?! Foolish, flighty creatures. What more can one ask?

Being in the northern hemisphere, it is the season called "Hotter Than All Get-Out"... thinking of your upcoming winter is a great exercise in canine imagination for us. Around here, the big winds, lightining, and heavy, quick rains are causing lots of excitement on the human side. Wonderful Dog Days, though. I just have to duck when things fly by.

Our good wishes to your Master, Misguided Mistress, and impending pup.

p.s. If it's a boy, consider "Sun-Spot."

I think Juanita must've eaten a few too many mushrooms. We really can't understand what she's talking about - Ellie suggested that, since it doesn't make sense, it may be poetry. However, I do like the name "Sun-spot".

Take me to the next diary entry!

I'd be very happy if you'd sign Master Craig's visitors' book before you leave (he won't create one for me).

Return to: The locked/chained world of Rogernald Dogue and Elanor Dogue-Dogue

Return to: The Marvellous World of King Craig