Gone to the Dogs
Our favorite furry friend gets in on the blogging action, with his take on this week's catfight
Well helloooooo, I am finally after all these weeks being allowed to woof my own opinion!
I know for mistress to take a trip without me it has to be something she really wants to do...because to dump my little doggy arse, in Beverly Hills, while she was jetting of to New York is something that does not sit well with me.
Now remember I have sweet pillow talk with mistress every night, and I really do have the inside dog track. Mistress was upset with these ladies.
Now, as I take all of you into my confidence, I have to be doggone sure that mistress will stay unaware of my little doggy blog.
What a muddle you humans create when you probably could have just sorted it out with a good old growl and a snap at the heels. But, oh no, the blonde with massive knockers would not let it go...like a dog with a bone she held on really tight, and the other one, the Demi look-alike, oh she just got in deeper and deeper. Mistress was angry that the tall skinny one, blowfish I think she calls herself (she said that on my dearest Andy's show), had created this little fiasco. And the Witch Mountain sister, where was she? They come from the same litter right? She should've jumped right in there and put that little pooch straight.
I remember mistress calling Ken (he's the guy that lives with us. . .he shares our bed. . .husband, I think that's what his title is). She called him and barked down the phone that she missed us and regretted going, oh dear. Love mistress, but she didn't have to get herself into this CAT fight when she could've stayed at home worshipping the ground I never walk on. Oh well, cheerio as mistress would say. . .till next time, woofy.
Love from your favorite little Gigolo.
You can follow me on Twitter: @giggythepom.