I am fixed.

Yes, it's true. I went back to the V.E.T. on Wednesday and she was much nicer to me. She looked in my eye, which was much less gunky and much less swollen, and said I was well on the road to being as normal as a Muppet can be. I had to keep that wierd radar thing round my head, in case I scratched my eye again.

By Thursday, I'd managed, I mean, accidentally, broken it, and it had to come off. Ha ha ha!! Freedom!

On Friday, Jimmy Day as usual, Mum dropped me off at Jimmy's house but it was raining when I went in the garden. Being the incredibly intelligent, clever, puppy that I am, I worked out quickly that the driest place was where Scooby the cat went when it was raining outside. The Garage. Easy as pie. To get in The Garage, Scooby goes through the dog flap. It's a lot wierder than my dog flap. Meg wouldn't fit, that's for sure. I poked my head in and wow it's dry in there. Mum went off to work and ooooooooooooops. I had to do the MuppetYell. You know that one that says get here veryveryveryveryquicklyplease.

Auntie Daryl came to my assistance, having heard the MuppetYell. The dog flap must be a Scooby flap only. It doesn't work for Muppets and should be removed. I nearly managed to remove it anyway but Auntie Daryl rescued me from it's clutches, after it grabbed me and wouldn't let go once my head and front legs had gone through. It's not right and needs replacing with a proper dog flap, don't you think? It could've eaten me alive or I could've been stuck there with my bum hanging out in the rain and only my head and front legs in the warm.

Today Mum went shopping to get things. Auntie Daryl, Tom and Erin and her said I deserved a present, especially as I have to have something nice to wear to Erin's birthday party in a couple of weeks.

Do the RSPCA take style complaints?

All V.E.T.s are evil.

At first it looked like fun. There was this gorgeous black lady labrador called Jess in the waiting room - we played a bit while we waited to go and see the V.E.T.

Then it was her turn to go in and I waited on Mum's lap until we went in to see the lady vet.

And Oh My God. Pain! Dye in my eye! What were they thinking of? I glowed green with the stuff! She prodded me and cleaned me and shone a bright light in my eyes... and declared that I had infected my upper eyelid with a scratch and it was manky.

Me? It wasn't me who poked me in the eye it was the washing machine!!! Go prod the washing machine if you want to prod something!!

Look at the indignity. Look at the injustice. Look at my face!!!

What DO they do at the V.E.T. then?

Mum says I have to go see them. I couldn't open my eye when I got out of bed this morning and it's all puffy and weepy.

I'm not a very comfortable puppy today although I've stolen Mum's sock and her hairbrush already so I can see just fine.

I will report back. Maybe the V.E.T. is an ok sort of thing to visit? Do you think they give biscuits if I do my fall down dead trick?

Pawly: The Muppet is broked.

It was like this. Me and my sisters have fur, right (well apart from the catwithnofur thing).

Whilst I am the good one and very little of that fur drops off (unless you're the catwithnofur thing, in which case all your fur drops off, which is just plain gross), my sisters and Lucycat lose a lot. It gets on clothes and Mummy washes those clothes and because the silver washing machine is a very very rubbish machine, she has to fix it quite a lot to get rid of the fur.

Today was one such day. Mum didn't have any help today.

Apart from me.

The fixing bit went well. The get the fur out the filter bit went well. So well I didn't let Mum know that I found a bit more to investigate underneath the washing machine when she was on the other side of it.

How was I to know that she was going to put it back upright on my head?

I yelled and yelled and yelled and yelled and yelled. Then yelled a bit more. I ran to the bathroom. And yelled. Cassie and Meg came running and Mum sent them away to try and stop me yelling but I yelled a bit more. She picked me up and I yelled. She checked my tail and my legs and my body and my head and I yelled. Cos she thought I looked ok and didn't appear broken she put me outside the kitchen (I stopped yelling, I thought she might have noticed I was broked by this point).

She finished fixing the washing machine and put it back in the big hole under the worksurfaces. And she let me back in the kitchen.

That's when the blood dripped on the floor from my nose.

I got whisked into the bathroom and my head was washed and washed and washed and the bald bit of fur above my nose has been pampered and prodded a bit and all the blood washed away. I didn't yell this time, I think Mum noticed I was broked.

Even thought my eyes are black already Mum says mine is going to get worse and it's nice and swollen and I have a blood shot eye and a baldy fur bit. Do you think I'll end up like the catwithnofur? I wonder if she helped fix a washing machine too.

Mum nearly took me to the V.E.T. but she says that as I'm not cut and I'm running around the house and even stole her sock from out the washing machine and ran in the garden with it, I must be ok. I hope so, and I'm pretty sure I am but in the mean time I must start to work on techniques for getting my own way because I'm now pawly. I've already had some treats 'cos Mum feels a bit guilty for plonking the washing machine on my head.

I must go and lie down now. Being pawly takes effort. I may have to wear a bandage on my head if I get worse and plead for my dinner to be brought to me on a silver tray.

Gosh I'm clever - playing dead.

I wasn't there, I didn't do it, it wasn't me, you can't prove it.

Mum says it was a Cage-Park she sent me to. Me and Meg. My sister Cassie went to stay with her other family who have always looked after her since she was a puppy when Mum isn't around but me and Meg had to go to the Cage-Park.

Mum didn't even tell me. I thought we were going to the office, but Cassie had gone to stay with Zoe the night before, which was a bit odd, and Meg came in the car with me. We went into the countryside... and ended up at a funny looking building. When we got out the car and through the gates, Meg couldn't wait to get out. She saw this man called Graham, who she is, quite honestly, in love with. She demanded cuddles from the minute we arrived and wouldn't let him go. It was gross.

Then, Mum told Graham something about me screaming and not being left with Meg in case I annoyed her... and Graham took our leads - I thought for a walk - and all of a sudden, Mum walked the other way!!!

I heard the car drive off and found myself being put in a huuuuge cage, with a door to the outside where I could run about, and opposite me, Meg had the same thing. We had beds, where my blanket and Mum's shorts that I sleep with were (how DID they get there?)... and that's where we stayed. There was a very very big field where me and Meg went for walks together and a lady called Lin cuddled us and walked us, and when our cages got cleaned, I got to play play play with Meg. Two days later Mum came to pick us up - Meg heard her first but I was too busy playing then I saw her and ran and ran and ran to say hello - she hadn't left us there!! Lin told Mum that I wasn't a naughty boy and that Meg looked after me and protected me and waited to see me in the mornings like I was her puppy. So there, Mum, I don't scream all the time.

When we got home, lots had been done to our new garden, cos the workmen had been here while we'd all been away. There was a new concrete slab at the bottom of the garden for the shed to go on. I would like to categorically deny any involvement in walking through wet concrete and leaving paw prints.

Both Meg and I were here and there are cats that walk around the garden too.

It wasn't me my paws are clean. It could've been Meg (that dirty mark on my right paw isn't concrete, ok?).

These humans are easily trained.

Last night Mum taught me to "High Five". Basically I just put my paw in the air and bash her hand and I get biscuits for doing it.

Last night I got an entire bag of treats. Today is an office day and in the office is a very large tin of biscuits that never gets empty. Normally I'm only allowed a biscuit from the tin if i've been very very good indeed. But, get this, oh starving dogs of the world... if you sit in front of a human and High Five, they open the tin. Repeatedly.

So far, it's 9.05 am and I'm on my fifth Bourbon Cream. It's going well and the humans all think I'm amazingly clever. I think they're amazingly stupid. Who needs dog food when there is the office tin?

I have a bed, so it doesn't matter.

Well, what a week. I've had two Office Days and three Jimmy Days. One Jimmy Day caused disaster on the Office Day because I stole Jimmy's cousin Rodney's (he's a terriery funny mad thing) pig ear treats. They were there, so I had them. So when I got to the office, I had that feeling I had to *go*. You know, when you have to, just have to? Mummy's secretary's office was very aired that day and Mum traced back the pig ear as the culprit. I haven't had them before and my belly isn't used to them yet. Not yet, anyway. I hope to see Rodney again soon.

The other Jimmy days were fun fun fun. Auntie Daryl has really had her work cut out cleaning floors. She really does seem to like doing that.

Gosh and there was this morning. It's really wet outside isn't it. Do you know how much fun it really is to hare around the garden at full speed (that grips mud to the paws better), fall over in runny poo then fly back into the house, find Mum on the toilet and jump into her arms to say good morning? For some reason she can really yell in a high pitched voice when I say good morning like that. I got a shower as a reward, and we both hair dryed our fur together.

And, back home, you remember Cassie's bed, right?
I fit in it quite well, don't I?
Mum says she needs to buy Cassie another one that isn't so tasty.

I simply don't know why.

I come in White too.

There I was. In the car, and then going for a nice walk with Mum.

Great!!! Then we went in a shop. Oooh how exciting I hear you say and boy oh boy oh boy did I think so when I got in the shop - It smelt of dogs, it sounded of dogs and even better other dogs came in the front door!

Mum said hello to a nice lady called Sharon and told her some secrets - that I was naughty when I had my coat brushed and that she needed some help with it - and suddenly whooooooooooooooosh before I could breathe, bark or utter goodbye - Sharon picked me up, took me into another room and Mum had gone!! Gone, totally and utterly vanished! There I was, suddenly transported into another world of s h a m p o o (it's not poo it's girly smelling) and water!

Two hours later I've been scrubbed, polished, trimmed and just to make sure everyone knew I should only have been there to play not to get all this stupid pampering, I screamed the place down non stop.

Mum turned up again (and about flipping time too, what was she thinking of?) and said I was embarrassing. She could hear me outside the shop. Ha! That'll teach her. Sharon told her that I was a very good boy and I didn't bite or snarl (doesn't Mum know that's reserved for her??) and that my only problem was screaming.... and that Mum had to keep on top of my coat with brushing cos otherwise it would be a problem. I guess that means i'm in for daily brushes again as usual, and there was me thinking I'd got out of it. Even worse, I'm booked in again for the 13th December for a wash and scrub up again!! What's wrong with these humans? I'm a dog and I get dirty, I don't DO clean.

Worse still it looks like I'm in for a really rough day now cos it's pouring with rain and Mum's banned me from the garden! She says she'd rather I wee'd in the house than get dirty today... what is up with her? Yesterday she said I was naughty for not going in the garden and today I just can't win!

(This is me showing my nice white paws, and also showing off my "down" that I learnt properly this week).

Excuse my wet chops, I needed a drink. Haven't I got lovely eyes?

Gosh all this attention is making me shy....

Anyway, back to the fact of the matter. I must find dirt. And sharpish.