I am wearing socks, yes, that’s right socks. T has been making me wear her walking socks on my back legs because she is cruel and heartless. You can imagine what my friends George and Sadie have been saying as they walk past my house every day – well that’s when they manage to stop laughing. T says it’s my own fault for standing on the window sill. She is not a nice person.
I’d tell you more but I’m a bit busy at the moment trying to get the socks off which is a little tricky, she uses tape to keep them on and it gets stuck in my teeth.
Socks: Think yourself lucky, the things I have to put up with. Trubble here by the way. She puts me in a tartan rug and I've never been north of Gloucester and then she bought me a hoody! Apparently it's what all the 'in' dogs wear in the cities but as I've never been to one I wouldn't know. Thank goodness she decided it was a bit small, well I did puff out my chest a bit and popped a couple of the poppers!
And she's cruel as well. When I bark at the people who are going up the footpath past our territory she says 'really who can take you seriously dressed like that' I ask you!
As for Daffy she wouldn't be seen dead in any apparel whatsoever. Although I did catch a glimpse of her with a very natty sweater on when it was really cold courtesy of the small person who lives here.