The Postman

I’m curious – Why do you always hear about dogs attacking the postmen, but you never hear about the postmen attacking dogs? Surely it happenes sometimes…

If dogs are as mean and horrible to postmen as everyone claims to be the case, why don’t the postmen fight back? I’m a bit sceptical about this whole “mean dog & poor postman” business.

My relationship with our postman is not violent at all, but it is definitely special. I’d call it love and hate relationship. The love part mostly from my end and the hate part – from his.

I don’t know his name, but I like to imagine it’s Pat. He gets to our street everyday around noon with his magnificent moustache and a bag full of exciting letters and packages. Sometimes he brings leaflets too, but I don’t hold it against him.

I want to greet him personally, every time he comes around and I want to show him that I am loads of fun. I bark loudly for him to hear me through the closed door, but that doesn’t seem to impress him much:(

In fact, it seems to make him leave our doorstep that much quicker!

What am I doing wrong here? I just want to get to know him better. He looks like an interesting man with an impeccable fashion sense – his red face matches the red Royal Mail uniform that he wears (coincidence? I think not!)

He must be a deeply traumatised individual to have lost his trust in dogs so completely. I wish he understood that my barking comes from a good place and I’m not going to hurt him.




Human Frailty

Mum has been sick over last three days and she has been absolutely useless to work with! I now have to do my own editing in addition to being a brilliant writer.

As you can probably notice, there is no photo of me in this post. The reason for it is that she is lying in bed feeling sorry for herself, while so many of my good hair days and general gorgeousness moments are being wasted every minute she doesn’t take photos of me! I seriously hope she feels better and gets her act together while I’m still young and handsome.

I’d take a selfie, but it is really hard to take a pitcure of a gorgeous dog and BE the georgeous dog in the same time. And we all know that men cannot multitask anyway.

Mum doesn’t just feel bad – she looks awful too! But of course I won’t tell her that. You don’t say things like that to the person who has full control over your food, do you? But, between you and me, this is what she looks like:

Humans are so weak, you gotta feel sorry for them. I suppose you have to forgive them their weakness as they are inferior beings. They don’t have magnificent hair coats to cover their skin like I do and their noses are tiny so they constantly get blocked with flegm and god knows what else (poor things, like they don’t have a terrible sense of smell as it is, right?)

And another thing – Sometime ago I mentioned about some really bad and unfair dog references in human culture (you can read it HERE). Here’s another one for you – humans use the expression to be sick as a dog in relation to someone actually being really sick. Let me tell you something – I’m now a year and 8 months old  (which is about 12 or 13 years in human years, I believe ) and I’ve never been ill in all that time. In the meantime my mum had 2 throat infections and 3 colds and my dad had 2 colds and 2 stomach bugs. So there you go – yet another dog reference humans should seriously rethink!

I better lie down next to her now and exercise my tilt to cheer her up, maybe she’ll get her lazy butt up to throw me a snack, which would be a highlight of my day! That’s how low I’ve sunk in my poor dogsistence.


Shaun Loves Lola

I forgot to mention before that I have a gorgeous neighbour called Lola. She is a brown labrador bitch and she is a little older than me (but not enough to call it creepy!) Our parents know each other from work and  yesterday they’ve arranged to meet up for a labradate.

I got there all hopeful and over the moon, because I still remembered how beautiful Lola was and how invitingly she smelled last time I saw her.

At first I played it cool, pretended I wasn’t that desperate.

But we all know that I AM that desperate so I tried to approach her from the right…

..and then from the left…

And finally I made my move

As you can see, she couldn’t be less interested if I was a spot on her collar. All she was bothered about was that green ball in her mouth.

I have balls too! – they’re different colour, but they’re still balls! 🙁

Did you notice how long and hairy her legs are? Absolute perfection!

But she just wants to be friends:( What is a dog to do when they hear that terrible verdict – let’s be friends!

Well, I took her swimming instead. If I can’t have her, I can at least admire her behing from a close distance. Friends can come in all sorts of shapes – my friend has a lovely shape mwahahaha 😀

Shaun in love