It's my Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I woke up this morning Mum was squealing at me Happy Birthday!!! It's Monday!! That's my Birthday apparently - yes one whole year ago today I was born!

I got presents!!

I may have been a little smug about it all

When we got to the office, Tom and Erin visited - with presents!!!

And a card!

Then the humans had cake!! Me and Tom blew out the candles....

And I got TUNA!!!

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmm!!

I am a happy One year old Puppy :)

PS Happy birthday to my brothers and sisters too, especially Jazz and my friend Amy.

PPS At the open show at the weekend I won First place in Junior and Best Puppy - it was the last time I can be called a Puppy so Mum is very very very happy :)

It appears as though something is happening on Monday

I'm not quite sure what's going on but Mum keeps going on about being a big boy and Monday being a day for some fun.

I heard the word "cake" and the word "party".

I need to keep my wits about me to make sure I am best placed to be whereever this cake may be.

I shall make more investigations...

slight slip up

Today I am apparently being sent to the groomers.

How this punishment can be exacted upon me, I am not quite sure.

It could however have something to do with my running in the garden and finding a trainer or two. And it might have something to do with Mum yelling at the top of her voice "Muppet Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" and me running with the trainer (and the new hole in the tip of it) into the house to disguise any wrongdoing (I forgot the drop, run, hide rule) before running into Cassie's bed to pretend I was there all along.

Now I'm going to smell and look like a girl.

Boys will be boys.

Crikey it's been a whole month of me being good. Honest.

Anyway. You know that whole housetraining thing. It's cracked, it truly is, it has been for a very long time indeed. But there are things called hormones that apparently flow round a boy dog's body. Mum says I have them. I'm not sure.

What I am sure about is that having learned to cock my leg up a tree, it is important to keep on doing that, for that is what big dogs do. I don't want to wee like a girl dog like cousin Jimmy. Pah!

I'm not sure what's wrong with Mum though because since I've learned to do that (which is a good thing, she says so it still doesn't make any sense), she's started to complain about my yellow tummy. She says I don't aim straight. I bet she hasn't tried standing on three legs and weeing in the howling wind up at a tree, has she?

She also said weeing on the ironing board wasn't the thing to do.

Then, she said going to important championship shows in fields and not finding any handy trees when there are a huge amount of other dogs' smells to cover up doesn't mean that I can cock a leg up her trousers. Twice. In the heat so it dries quick. (i tried to find a tree but when I lifted my leg the only thing that was upright in the field was mum's leg - and when you gotta go you gotta go, right?).

It also isn't right to pee up a 15kg bag of dog food stored temporarily in the lounge until it was moved elsewhere.

Nor is it OK to wee up Auntie Daryl's brand new wallpaper upstairs on the landing of her house, apparently.

What is a boy dog to do?