#perthdachshund

Dear Diary, Its Sunday and I have been playing with my new squeaky ball since 4am.  Let me start at the beginning, I wanted a new squeaky ball that I saw at the Pet shop last week when we were there getting my bum tablets.  I really, really wanted the squeaky ball, but mum said she’d spent too much on the bum tablets and I needed to wait until Christmas.  I said I didn't mind having worms in my bottom, but mum ignored me (as usual).  So the cheap skate bought me a new $3 ball from Target.   She said she was really busy with crappy Christmas craft for the kindy kids and she needed some peace and quiet.  So,  she got the stupid ball out the Target bag slowly like it was some awesome, amazing present.  Big freaking deal, I thought.  I can get a hole in that in 20 seconds.  It actually took on 17 seconds.  I know this, because mum repeated the story to every person who cared to listen.  Today (Sunday) I got my new ball.  It was from Coles and Its really squeaky. I love it!  I can squeak it on repeat for around 4 minutes before taking a breath.    I can get it under most couches and beds, which is so much fun as mum and dad have to dislocate their shoulder to get it out. They use really bad language whilst doing this.  

Soooo, its been a while since I wrote my diary.  Mums been busy travelling and I was sent on ‘retreat’ to Nanna and Grandads.  I put on 2kg in the 3 weeks I was on ‘holiday’ eating supposedly ‘thumb nail’ sized treats (grandad gave me foot sized treats) and mum put on 5kg eating everything she could get her hands on, me thinks.  Anyhow, my huge fan pool of 5 asked if I would post again, so here it is.  My day.  Had a run down near the river with the ball.  Met a fluffy dog called ‘sparky’ who liked to be chased - no judgement here, and then we had brekkie at Little Stove.  The humans got at the nice stuff, I got the usual crap in the little container that mum gets excited about.  Who cares about your shitty liver biscuit, I say.  She ignores me and forces me to sit so I can have it.  Big whoop.  The we went to a crappy Christmas craft market.   Mum loves that shit, but dad and I pretend to be interested.  It got really boring so I thought I would liven up things with a sneaky vomit in front of the handmade bags stall.  twice.  Mum was chatting to the nutty lady in the tent and dad was getting excited over the vomit and waving excitedly to mum.  settle down old man, I thought.  He collected the chunky vomit up in the poo bag to keep for later.  Dad’s weird like that.  So this is me sleeping it off on the couch, I might get a bonus lunch off of the vomit incident.  fingers crossed.