Saturday, 21 April 2012

One Dog, Two Guvnors

I didn't get to go on the honeymoon. Instead I got a two week stay at Casa Cruella with poor weather, long walks and an argumentative collie who didn't want to share a fence with me. Each day I would scratch the living room door at 6.20am to waken Cruella to enquire if this was the day my owners were returning. Surprisingly she didn't turn me into a coat and still gave me breakfast and a shot under the covers of her bed. I like my home comforts.


Norwegian Gem

When they did return, the newlyweds were ecstatic. The cruise was excellent, they gushed. I got so fed up hearing about the wonderful service on the Norwegian Gem and how they were treated like VIPs (they even had a butler); I just kept thinking would it not have been better if they'd picked a cruise with a dog deck? A poop deck, if you will, where dog owners could walk their dogs. There would be a dog spa, where all the cat tension could be massaged from my hackles. I could sunbathe and order bowls of dog cocktails (with added meat) and swim in the doggy paddling pool. The ship gym would have a canine section where I could use the treadmill, like the fat dogs do on 'The Dog Whisperer'. Not that I'm fat but with three dog buffets a day I might put on a little weight, like my master has.

It would be easy to get a pet passport, jump on a plane and holiday around the world. It's not difficult to raise a paw on a scanner and look into a camera at immigration in New York. The New Yorkers love their dogs. I might have an issue with the sniffer dogs showing an interest in my rear as you know how little I approve of anal cavity searches. It's really just species prejudice that stops me. The post holiday quarantine would really annoy me afterwards. It's not as if they ask humans to spend months in a cell to see if they've picked up any contagious diseases. It's a shame because I'd love to go to the 'Shake Shack' on 8th Ave for a Pooch-ini or Bag O' Bones instead of just being told about it.

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They couldn't stop going on about how good their holiday was, neglecting my feelings entirely. Witnessing the filming of Doctor Who in Central Park beats every life experience with me apparently. When they described giving Salvador the dolphin a hug and kiss they didn't consider that they were cheating on me with a fish. But I listened with keenness when they talked about the Broadway play, 'One Man, Two Guvnors', with James Cordon, which they both thoroughly enjoyed. I wasn't interested in the farce, more the food. Skimming a share of both their dinners appealed greatly. Commedia dell'Figbane at its best.

It was just as well they made it up to me when they returned by taking me a short break to the cabin. The sunshine was fabulous. It was so good I got to sunbathe outside, in April. Now that was a pleasant surprise.