Since writing my column about Ethel, our new canine addition, we have been stopped in the street on several occasions, and even in a café, because readers have recognized her. It has become clear that my husband and I are of no further use to humanity, other than as providers of sustenance and extortionately priced pet insurance for her.
Subsequently, the remainder of this column has been written by her. I give you, Ethel the Pug.
It’s a pug’s life. Today, the humans attempted once again to get to me wee and poo on a paper mat. The indignity of being forced to open one’s bowels in a place of the humans’ choosing – and upon something that looks like a gigantic incontinence pad – is beneath me. But not literally, because I refuse to get on it. Instead, I choose to eat the puppy pad, and poo on the Laura Ashley rug.
This week, I’ve been taken back to a place called the Vets. The Vets is a building where there are other humans – all of them sadists. Rumour has it that they are trained at Canine Concentration Camps before being let loose on the rest us, but not before they’ve been issued with an electric blue tabard to wear and a small glass stick to insert up your bottom.
The Vets think they are being clever by wielding treats in front of your face before jabbing needles in your neck, but I hold no truck with this, preferring instead to cry as loudly as possible in order to alert the innocents still sat in the waiting room.
I overheard one of my humans enquiring as to when she can now put me ‘on the pavements’, but this must be a mistake? It should be patently clear from the leagues of admirers that I attract on each sojourn that I should be carried in the manner to which I have become accustomed. I got my own back by chewing the hair of the soppy blonde one as soon as we left. She’s a pushover.
I have also visited the place where the blonde one works, and felt justified in my own sense of self-importance by being immediately swept into the arms of a human named Sandie, who bestowed me with compliments and whisked me off to meet Tara, Debbie, Glynis, Natalie and Alice – a multitude of fans, who I hope to grace again with my presence in the near future. Lucky souls!
First published in the Portsmouth News, Tuesday 9th June 2015