Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

This post is brought to you from behind the barricades,  somewhere under the dining table… about the only safe place in this house at the minute. I’m feeling a bit glum. All I’m getting is ‘not nows’ and ‘laters’. It doesn’t seem to matter where I go… she’s everywhere. Bits of material… sharp, sticky pins…stuff that smells really interesting in the kitchen … though she says if I investigate that too closely she’ll do dire things to me…

I mean, I ask you… what’s a dog to do when it smells all sweet and gooey in there? She says I wouldn’t like it anyway. I say I’ll be the judge of that… but she’s not having any. And neither, apparently, am I. Unfair I call it!

I did point out that she’ll only complain that she’s getting a big rump if she eats it all to herself. She says…