Toby.

Another dog story but in a very different vein from my Bonnie story. I hope it brings a smile.

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Let me introduce myself. My name is Toby, and I am the four footed aristocrat who owns the two humans living opposite Meg in her cul de sac.

Anne and Bill (that is their names), have decided to go off to Europe for some unknown reason. They, the aforesaid Anne and Bill, seem to think Meg can’t manage without them, so I have been commissioned to do the honours while they are away gallivanting.

Each day I have to attach Meg to my lead and walk her across the road from my house to hers. She can’t be trusted even for this small journey, and I have to continually tug her back from chatting to the neighbours or pulling a weed.

I have several complaints about the way I have to spend the days while my humans are away.I hasten to add that I insist on returning to my own bed at night. Aristocrats like me are quite unable to adapt to strange beds.

But I digress. On complaint that I have is that at my own home, I have a proper canine entrance as is befitting for the rightful owner of my palatial corner block dwelling. (There is a sort of stained glass contraption that allows the human entrance at the front.)

Meg. however, has no such provision, and I am forced to stand patiently waiting at her back door, with the occasional and very polite”Woof”, whenever Nature calls me into her backyard. Meg frequently ignores my polite request until I need to raise the volume slightly, and her impatience astonishes me.

Another complaint is that when I do venture forth, the two yappy and rather undisciplined little creatures (of a very inferior breed I might add) who live next door, go quite hysterical with joy at my appearance.

I attempt to suppress their enthusiasm with my deep baritone reprimands, but usually to no avail.

My humans keep sending Meg photos galore on her tablet, of churches, museums, stately homes, their ceilings (I ask you!), and paintings and not a Shih Tzu in sight. What possible interest is it to me when I could just as easily look at one of their coffee table books.

Meg needs exercise so I make sure I distribute my royal bundles at different locations in her back yard each day. She finds the bending. scooping and disposing far more beneficial than Pilates classes I am sure. and a lot cheaper.

In the evening when I take Meg back, again attached to my lead, she rather offends me, when I baulk at consuming the little white pill she attempts to hide under the rather boring meal she provides each night. I inform her that one day, when she reaches my age, she too may be forced to rely on a little medication for the occasional aches and pain, and then who’ll be laughing!

Five more weeks for me to be carrying out these responsibilities . I have a good mind to tell my humans when they eventually do return, that I am quite over my Meg sitting days for life!