Apparently the Gawain has been muttering about the fact that I haven’t updated this diary for so long.  I suppose it has been a while, but after all, he’s the one living in Newsy Land.

Actually there is something to report: I’ve been abandoned once again.  Oh, not by the house-humans – as my regular readers will know, I’ve been trying for years to trade them in for a properly motorized family.  No, it’s Ellie who’s left me this time (well, left them and not taken me with her, which amounts to the same thing). Never trust a cat. She slipped out in her usual unobstrusive way one evening in early March, and hasn’t been back since.  I utilized all my keen terrier senses on the roads, paths and woods over half the town, but to no avail.  The Mum thinks she might have seen her early one Sunday morning, living it up with a feline companion round the back of the funeral director’s, but she can’t be quite sure.  Anyway, good luck Ellie, wherever you are – hope you have a good proportion of your nine lives left….

On a more cheerful note, I understand that I’m being called upon to appoint the next government.  I can fully appreciate that I’m the dog for the job; am only sorry that my sleeping commitments make me unable to take the appointment in person.  The three front-lollopers for the Pry Mini-Stir (is that a type of inquisitive Pot Noodle?) position paraded before me last night via a convenient video-link to my sofa.  I was quite attracted by Mr Cameron’s promise that he would put steaks in people’s houses (though knowing my lot, they’d probably request the vegetarian option) but in the end I was won over by Mr Clegg who declared that he was going to set up a dedicated Border Police Force.  The Dad was a bit worried that it would be too energetic for me, all that running around after criminals, but the Mum pointed out that I would make an admirable desk sergeant, as my snoozing skills are really second to none.

Speaking of which, it’s probably time for a quick mid-morning nap before my pre-prandial zzzzzzzzzzz