Diary of a SAFFA Dog – Dyspepsia

OMW it appears that I cannot learn my lesson and am once again in the deepest poo. I have been placed in the naughty corner and told to repeat over and over ‘I must not steal. I must not steal…’. (More of this later…)

The christmas party as you can imagine, was most successful. It was a very jolly occasion and the food and decorations all highly praised.  After supper we were released from our upstairs prison and allowed to mingle with the guests.

We were all given tasty morsels from the now discarded paper plates and very enjoyable it all was.  As always it confirms my view that us canines are at the bottom of the good food chain.  Barney feels we should discuss this situation with Mother as all of our Pug friends are now the recipients of yummy home cooked grub.

We retired to bed in the early hours of Sunday morning, tired but happy.  As we passed the dining table en-route upstairs my nose twitched a little and I thought I could detect sausage aroma wafting through the early morning air.

This was my undoing, I could not get the smell out of my mind.  I tossed and turned but could not settle.  Finally, my addiction overcame the need to sleep and I slunk quietly downstairs.

As I was exiting the bedroom Barney opened on eye and whispered words of warning.  I told him to mind his business and go back to sleep. As with all addicts reason had been overtaken by the hunger to satisfy my cravings.

Reaching the leftovers proved to be more of a challenge than I thought.  The large platter containing all manner of appealing snacks had been carefully pushed to the centre of the large table.

I managed to move one of the chairs from its position close to the table and used this to climb up and on to the table itself.  By this stage all sense of reason had left me and I unashamedly fell upon the sausages, smoked salmon and pate treats.

Finally satiated, with dawn peaking through the curtains, I dragged myself up the stairs and back into the warm, cosy bed.  I was rudely awoken by Mother yelling in my ear.

It appears that she had gone down for an early coffee and was confronted by a scene of chaos around the dining room table.  I feel it was the pile of discarded toothpicks that had given me away!

As if the shame of being banished to the naughty corner was not enough, my mature stomach has been protesting for the last two days.  I have not been in a happy place!  Mother has been telling me it serves me right, so I have attracted no sympathy on that front.

The question is, have I learned my lesson, or will I offend again…..

 

 

 

 

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