Yes, its me. Gorgeous, pouting, luscious Lulu. I’ve been in semi-retirement for a while because my fur was not at its best. However as you can see from today’s snap its coming along nicely now.
I used to love the Australian organic biscuits but then they told me they couldn’t get them any more. So I started shedding my fur in protest. They went berserk the pair of them. OMG, we’ll have a bald dog, he said. Yes, she said but she’s still very cute. Cute my arse. OK, I did go a bit far but he ended up contacting the manufacturers and finding somewhere else in HK that stocked my faves. And so I’m back on track. Now she’s moaning that my whiskers are turning white. Well what do you expect living in a mad house like this. I’m the only one who is sane and yet he always shouts “why is the dog going crazy?” just because I like barking at the helper and nibbling her ankles. She loves it. When they’re away of course I don’t bother but I know it winds him up so it’s all a good game. And of course she then gives me extra rations to keep me quiet. Its like shooting fish in a barrel.
They did buy me a rather snazzy new basket a couple of months ago and I can now recline full length if I want to. The old one is now downstairs in the living room and I generally doze off in there when they watch the news. Heaven knows why he sits there – he doesn’t understand a word of it. Sheesh. I know more Cantonese than he does. I guess he just watches the pictures.It is the only TV they watch as a rule although he watches the game she calls “why are they fighting?” and he seems to call rugby. And they watched some scruffy herbert called Andy Murray winning at Wimbledon. That was it. I was bored rigid. Not a dog anywhere. When did a Pomeranian last win Wimbledon I want to know. He laughed when I asked and suggested Wilhelm Bungert might have been a Pom but he lost to a moustache with an Aussie attached to it called Newcombe. I don’t think a Pole has ever got to the men’s final.
Life goes on much as usual. She shops. He snaps. I just go through my daily routine. So far I have trained them to do “Lulu sit”, “Lulu down” and “Lulu come”. Four years to master that lot. Not exactly smart are they? I do some circuit training twice a day to keep me fit. If they get out of order I drop a bit of fur on the floor and they start the OMG routine again. We have found a decent local grooming parlour too, which helps. Japanese I think. He calls it the poodle parlour but I’ve never seen a poodle in there. Nasty snappy things with silly haircuts generally. Not a patch on us Poms. With or without hair.
It is now 15 minutes until afternoon snack time. I am supposed to get a measly 15 biscuits but if he feeds me he sneaks me a few more. She always puts me on the wretched scales and says “Oh Lulu!!! You are 0.2lb overweight and have to go on a diet”. The next day I think he alters the scales and I am back under my contracted modelling weight of 5lb. Overall I guess it’s not a bad life but I do wish they were a bit smarter. My only complaint is that I’ve nothing much to read. I do like Pets, People & Life and Gerard is a hoot. But Pippa-dog hasn’t written anything in yonks. I think I may have to start chewing a book or two to try to get the message over but e-readers taste awful I bit one the other day. I thought it said Kibble but it turned out it said Kindle. Bugger.
That’s it for now my lovelies. I’ll take the hot seat again when he’s preoccupied with something “important”. And just one last thing – Happy Birthday, Madiba. 95 today. I’ll blow out a candle for you. I’ve got terrible wind today.