Hi, Dervla Dog, Canine Genius here. I can't wait to tell you what I got for Christmas this year. I got two dads!
It started when Dad brought this other human home; his name's Ben and he's got soft woolly hair all over his head. I think he ought to be called Shep, but Ben will do. They were watching something on TV and squabbling about it. Then this Ban whacked my dad's hand with a hairbrush. I got all set to bite him up the throat but then I could see my dad was laughing. And a bit later they did that thing where they put their faces together and make weird noises. And they went off to the bedroom together. I ran in because when my dad goes into the bedroom, I get to lie at the bottom of the bed. I like that. But my dad said "Not tonight, Dervs, I've got Ben with me." This Ben, though, he said "Oh I don't mind, I like dogs." My dad made a right fool of me then; he said "You'll not like her when she farts." I was a bit cross but decided to forgive him. Later on Shep – sorry, Ben – had his arms round my dad as if he was protecting him.
Well, the next day was Christmas Day – I know when it's Christmas Day because I get a big feed then – and Ben held out something in front of me. It was covered in this stripey paper stuff and Ben said:
"Go on Dervs, open it."
I opened it with my teeth and made a brilliant mess on the rug; my dad usually swears at me with a word that sounds like 'twit' when I do that, but he just said "You're the one who's clearing it up, Benjamin."
Then it made a noise! He'd got me a squeaky toy! I love a good squeak round the house.
After that it was time for me to go out and see my mates. Now let me tell you dogs something about meeting up on the street. Humans have Starbucks, we have the street. Best place to catch up with all the gossip. But a word of warning; take a bone with you. If you don't have your own bone, the other dogs will growl at you and it can frighten new dogs on the block. And never, ever go up to another dog who's got a bone in his gob. That soppy poodle down the road that walks on her hind legs for dog treats tried that once. The skin's just about grown back on her ear.
We started by asking each other what we got for Christmas. Yeah, we can be a little bit mean about it: "New ball? Oh, bad luck, mate.", stuff like that.
When it was my turn to bark, I went dead calmly as if it wasn't the best news ever:
"I got two dads."
You should have seen their faces. Re-spect! Angus the Scottie started off three barks for me. Mind, the next day, Boxing Day I think they call it, was dodgy.
Ben turned up with a cat basket. Now there's only one thing that fits into a cat basket and it's not a dog.
He'd moved his moggy in. I was ready to get it by the throat and shake it, but it mewed at me and looked at me as if it was saying:
"Okay there, Boss?"
I padded round it for a while, then wagged my tail.
Poor thing was dead grateful.
I let it have a corner of my dog blanket to lie on later.
Wouldn't say we were best mates, but it'll do. It's name's Eric.
I was worried in case it followed me at Bone Break time, but it knew its place and stayed where it was.
So all in all, it's been a good Christmas. New dog blanket from my dad, squeaky toy from Shep. Lots of meat and tasty grub to scoff, and the cat didn't want any. It looked up while I was eating, but lay back down and waited for Ben to make it that stinky stuff that cats eat. Lots of snoozing by the fire – let the cat get a look in, and got a 'good girl' from Dad, and my head stroked by Ben. Top that off with a mega long walk which was brilliant because we saw the poodle and I barked and growled and frightened the cr*p out of it. Shame the cat didn't see it; it'd have worshipped me for life.
Hey, it's a good life being a dog.
e