Hi humans my name is Charlie and I am one of the scruffy breeds or sort of breed and I have been dreading the Warren day. The first time I met the dude was about a year ago and I confess I behaved very badly. I screamed like a banshee and went absolutely mental. I was so bad that the indefatigable Warren had to give up and I remained totally scruffy. What was worse was bloody Amber just went blank and came out of the experience looking really good.
I knew something was up on the day they called Thursday as the lady of the house was a bit on edge and the bloke had his feet coverings on in the house and it wasn’t even run time. And then the nightmare in the shape of Warren the dog-fondler turns up with his mobile torture chamber. I just knew it was going to be a bad hair day. I was determined to be good though cos I could smell BBQed lamb in the old man’s pocket and that just had to be worth it. So I confess I wiggled and screamed a little bit but it is difficult to make too much fuss when lumps of dead flesh that tastes incredible, are being shoved into me gob. Another confession when Wazza was doing me pits I accidentally, ahem, stuck me canines into him, not much but enough to register my protestations.
So after the soothing effort of a run, I took the lady with me as she seemed to want to go too, I took a few selfies, which let me tell you is no easy matter when you’ve only got paws. And Amber didn’t help, she isn’t the sharpest bit of bone in the sheep. Crikey that was exhausting all this thinking stuff I’m off now to have a rest before I have to take the humans out for a run this evening.