I found out this morning that I’m going on holiday next Sunday for a few days because mum’s going back to the UK. Uncle Hugh and mum had an argument. He said “…don’t you trust me to look after him?”. She said “…no I bloody don’t. Mum's away so the boys will play!! The last time I went away you took him up in That Thing….Uncle Hugh has a flying car … you fell to sleep on the sofa after eating and drinking all day leaving the poor little mite plaiting his legs because he was probably dying for a pee…The boys are still playing!…you don’t take him for proper walks and you feed him Haribo Jellies….”. Uncle Hugh opened his mouth, then closed it again. I guess he thought that mum was right. But what’s wrong with being taken up in That Thing? What’s wrong with falling asleep on the sofa? What’s wrong with him feeding me Haribo Jellies? They're not exactly hanging offences are they?
It seems that mum isn’t the only woman who doesn’t trust her guy to look after the children. I know I’m not a child, but mum treats me like one. Check this out Why don't we trust dads?. I think mum’s being a bit unfair on Uncle Hugh, after all the last time she was away nothing bad happened to me and we had a GREAT time. It’s great when it’s all lads together. I love going to the place where That Thing lives and playing with Le Fred and the other guys. Oh well. I think that mum's a teensy weensy bit of a control freak - although she'd deny it vehemently.
The place I go for my holidays is cool too. It’s run by James and Jane who are dead nice. I really like James, he plays with me. It’s a place where I get my very own kennel, which is heated, and my very own big play area and sometimes I’m allowed to play in a big field with other dogs – but only lady ones because I start fights with male ones (it’s just the way I am). So I’m kind of ok either way, but Uncle Hugh is now sulking and mum is huffing a lot. I wish they’d be more ‘adult’ sometimes. Life’s simply too short.
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