Mr Scruff

I love the autumn, the smell of the leaves in the park, running around in the mud, havin’ said that the Blonde cannot stand cleaning mud off my paws and belly, but that’s what dogs do I tell her! We smell a bit sometimes! I’m not a fashion accessory I tell her, (I got stitched up with this hand beaded collar and that’s enough love).


The Blonde’s been away at the shows, it’s a dog show, Best In Show I think it’s called. There’s a dog-wear designer I really love, he’s called Barc Jacobs, I’ve got a lovely tartan dog coat by him, it’s a cracking fit, great around the bum. The stuff for girls is a bit fancier; I do like a cocker-poo in a sexy pair of Jimmy Chews. Woof!


Anyway, back to this Best In Show malarkey, she’s been away for a whole month! I usually go to my grandparents’ house but she’s taken in a flatmate, something to do with crunchy biscuits and credit. This flatmate is from Barcelona, so let’s call her the Brunette, and she comes with a HUGE Labrador called Malone. I ain’t stupid, but this Malone and I had a few problems when he moved in. I body blocked the door I was so cross, but he don’t speak English see, only Catalan. Does that mean you speak Cat I asked? Si si si… he sounds like a bloody snake. Well Blonde is now threatening to change her purple carpet that goes up the stairs, not only is there Scruff hair, there’s now Malone hair too! That’ll learn ya for taking in guests without my approval. I quite like Malone now, we’ve got an understanding, he’s teaching me Spanish, and I’m showing him the local parks.