I don't know where you are and Australia Post can be a bit iffy, but I hope you get this letter.
I don't mean to start my first letter to you in a year with a complaint but my tummy hasn't been so good, the humans are feeding me pap, and I'm feeling a little faint.
Yesterday, even though they could see I was starving, they ate their Saturday market grilled chorizo and bacon with salad and chimichurri rolls right in front of me! I didn't even get the end bits! I always thought it was your fault that I never got to eat chorizo rolls, Mr T, but I might have been a little hasty in my assessment. Please do accept my apologies for any evil thoughts I might have had.
Otherwise, we are all well here!
Yesterday, The Typist put on her Organization Face and started packing boxes and bags. The guest room is a mess.
I hope they're not sending me away to holidaycamp again. I'm not sure I can take another bout of The Camp Commandant's cooking and it's already so cold.
I don't know if I should be worried but I'm putting on my best sad face just in case.
In other exciting news from the home front! The Typist took these pictures a few weeks back! They're with that old ball you scavenged from the park. Yes, it's still here! I'm taking good care of it.
The photo session didn't go so well, as you can see. The Typist was terrible at giving instructions and just left me with the ball. What can I possibly do with a ball other than bite it?
Luckily there was 1 kind human in the house who could see I was struggling and tried to help me make the pictures more interesting.
It sure is tough to always be compared like that. If it's not you, it's Mr Piglet. It's a good thing I'm a very understanding and forgiving dog.
The truth is, I think everyone misses your funny stories. The Typist just had a good laugh reading this one.* But we can't all be big, silly, fluffy buffoons can we?
That's it then! Hooroo for now! Please say hello to Mr Piglet for me! Much love, your friend who's
P.S. I get to sleep on the bed now.
NOTE FROM The Typist:
One year already. Hard to believe. Miss you Rufus B. Please stop popping up around the house. Only Georgia can see you and it's scary, especially when you're walking on the ceiling. Okay? Thank you.
* Highly recommended reading if you're new to the blog, or would like a good laugh today :)