March 16th Mrs Anna's Motel for Small Dogs

Hi. It's Minnie here. Before She Who Is My Slave gets on here, I thought I would act like a Mutineer, take over and update you on how I am, or should I say how I feel I am being grossly neglected.

Please don't take me the wrong way with regards the neglect! I  have a full belly, a lovely comfy bed to sprawl on at night (it is with great delight that I manage to maneuver each of them to the edge of the bed, so I get all the in between space to myself), I get brushed and taken out each day to pee on power poles and to show off to my peers. Ahhh I do have a good life. Wait! Hold On!  I was talking neglect. Let's get back to the neglect They do neglect me. By swanning off and sending me to Mrs Anna's Motel for Small Dogs (obviously that isn't the real name, but that is what I call it). 

It sounds like absolute luxury, which it is. But they swan off and leave me there. I started  hearing about 4 nights in Fiji. Sipping cocktails and lying in the hot sun. I was about to dig out my dog-kini and then on the day of departure, I found myself being left at Mrs Anna's Motel for Small Dogs I ask you! Isn't that neglect?

Oh and just before that I hear about this wonderful, wonderful birthday party. There was to be cake, candles, lots of music and guests - all there to admire what a wonderful creature I am and to wish her a Happy Birthday.  Next thing I know... Yes you guessed right. It was Hello yet again to Mrs Anna's Motel for Small Dogs

I am thinking of running away. I spend so much time at Mrs Anna's Motel for Small Dogs, I might as well head there permanently. I was plotting all of this tonight. She wanted to take my photo and my response was my arse, you are getting a photo. And then she started that little massage thing. Right on that spot in the top middle, just above my back legs.  Ah yes, yes, do it again. Oh I love your long fingernails. Oh yes. OK I will stay. Oh yes. OK I'm yours. You're forgiven. Until next time...