Last night we went for our usual walk but bumped into a caucasian girl (she looks about 7 years old) and her brother (who looks like he might be 5 but behaves like he’s 2). They were out looking for the (ick) cat, a black and white thing that apparently hasn’t been home in 2 days. They mustn’t love the cat very much because they stopped searching and came running to me saying “Ooh! COLLIE! I love Collies!” Who the heck is a Collie?? I’m not a Collie darnit! I’m a SHETLAND SHEEPDOG. Get your facts right, girl! Still, she petted me and the boy started screaming in a happy hysterical way, which made my body drop into a playbow. For some reason, I wanted to play with that hyperactive screaming PJ clad boy.

Minutes later tho’, a small black shadow came hurtling down the pavement towards me. It was a french bulldog. The kids’ dog, Frankie. Frankie the Frenchie. I like French bulldogs. They can look quite cute (a little more so than their English cousins), but this one, Frankie, had little life or intelligence (to me) behind his beady black eyes. The kids got him in November and haven’t been able to toilet train him. DOH. C’mon Frankie, how hard is it to pee and poop in just one place? Frankie also lacked social skills. That one chased me around trying to get his head under my belly to sniff my sausage and eggs. What the?? Lay off buddy! We just met! Go easy! I didn’t want to scare the dude so I just ran around Mother in circles causing us to get entangled (oh yes, the girl went to get his halter and leash sometime during our meeting). It really amazes me when I know “Drop It” better than a human child. Mother kept telling the boy who was holding on to the leash to let go because we were so entangled and I was clearly not enjoying the face to face tango Frankie and I were doing. Except, that vapid boy just held on! When Mother says Drop It, YOU DROP THE LEASH you stupid child! Also, did I mention that the father of the children was standing there the whole time talking on his mobile?

I think Mother is too tolerant of kids because after that episode she continued to stand there and wait while the girl ran home to get Frankie’s treats to show Mother what Frankie eats (or actually doesn’t eat, according to her). Well, I sure helped him. I took everything she had! Then she asked about the clicker Mother was holding and asked if she could try clicking too. I wanted to scream “NO MOTHER! NOOooooo!!” but it was too late. She handed the thing to her and explained how to use it. Thankfully, the girl isn’t too daft. She clicked once as I sat and got my treat, but then clicked again and Mother scrambled to stuff something in my mouth. I really should have seen this coming. No, MOTHER should have seen this coming – the BOY now wants to click too! “Ooh! Can I click? Can I click? Can I click?” OVER AND OVER while Mother tries to calm me down (coz you’d expect that when I heard that I went abit nuts). Such an annoying child. I also don’t know what was going through Mother’s mind when she HANDED THE CLICKER TO HIM. Oh my dog, kill me now. No prizes for guessing that the peabrain boy happily clicked away while Mother hurried to pop treats into my mouth. I could see Mother got a bit annoyed with him (it was about time!) and she took the clicker back. Except, again, should have seen this coming, the boy kept saying “can I try again? can I try again?” NO YOU MAY NOT YOU CRAZY KID! Wait, what? Mother no! You hold it while he clicks? Are you sure? Ok ok. Fine”. One final click from the jumping screaming monkey while Mother held the clicker and she said “We’ll let you know if we see your cat. BYE NOW.” and left. 

We went home, me slightly flustered, Mother slight guilty (for putting me through kinder-hell). So we trained and she played games with me, like this one in the video where I have to use my super nose to find which hand holds the treats!