Stop Telephonin' Me-e-e-e-e-e-h-e-e-e-h

In the words of a certain pop star "stop telephonin' me-e-e-h-e-e-h-e-e-h-e-e-eh-e-e-e-h." Honestly, since I got my new phone (a snazzy 2004 model - retro and thrifty) it has been non stop. If the Chancellor isn't phoning me to moan about credit ratings, it's Mary Berry yacking away about the crap cake she scoffed in a shabby chic Cornwall tea room. I don't want to hear it, I don't need the stress. I'm a puppy, I like treats and toys. If you aren't bringing either of those then off you pop.

Woof de woof

P.S. Woof.

Going Blonde!

I love my natural born black and tan look, I think it offers me an air of sophistication - don't you think? But I've always been slightly jealous of those beach-y looking pooches with blonde flowing locks and whaddya know the few tiny high lights around my ears and eyes are turning into full on blonde tresses.

Now I'm conflicted, I love my new look but will I ever be my natural, happy go lucky black and tan self? Will the blinds match the curtains? Will I be able to pull off my favourite colours? I mean...I was really feeling red for the next season? Can blondes pull off red?

Anyway, less of the worrying - I spot something to chew.

WOOF DE WOOF,

P.S. WOOF!