This is Sunny the Australian dog speaking (sorry, writing ....)

Early this week, my Mama published a story about me ... about my quirky and annoying habits.

I am now embarrassed, as my reputation is in ruins. Her story was so close to publicly shaming me that I feel the need to show the other side of each situation – there are two sides to every story. So I have sneaked into the study to quickly justify myself, before Mama gets back. Don't tell her!

When we went to the playground on Saturday, I was being my usual sociable self, thus gathering children around me. I help them to understand dogs, to be gentle and patient, even though they keep touching my nose and tugging my ears. I'm teaching them to not be frightened of us canines. It also gives Mama an opportunity to show them how to treat us in ways we enjoy. A good thing. But I didn't know the children would all want to follow me ... away from their parents. I didn't mean to be a kidnapper!

As for the playground, I was standing away from the swings, watching and smiling, when down zoomed a child on the slippery slide – of course I scuttled away from the base of the “thing”. I got a big fright. Mama has not taught me about slides. Every where I went there were little kids doing unpredictable things! I hurried away to a new place away from danger, so I could watch the children having fun on these weird shapes. I found a good spot – where I would surely be safe. Not so. A little kid came flying towards me. A zip-line! Well, now I know what that is. Experience is a good teacher, and I am a quick learner, so Mama didn’t need to mention all those embarrassing near-accidents to readers around the world. 

Introducing myself to picnickers is simply being friendly with Australians of all nationalities and ethnic groups. I don’t mind what shape, or size, or colour people are. Who cares? We dogs don't. I'm not being rude with my party-crashing. Mama thinks I am too "forward". But my doggy smile breaks down all barriers, and the people and Mama start talking together, so I am like a cultural bridge, and to be quite honest, most countries need more cultural bridges. 

Also, if these picnickers at the playground do come from other countries, I want them to know that I appreciate their cuisine just as much as Aussie food – their food does smell delicious. So I make it obvious that I would not object if they dropped a little something for me. This too shows that I have no prejudice about food. Mama says that my begging is embarrassing. I thought it was quite clever.

She also mentioned that I like her to come outside with me on my last bathroom trip before bed. I am so disappointed she said that. After all, I sit with her all day long, looking after her, following her from place to place, even sometimes nearly getting trodden on when she turns around suddenly to get her keys or handkerchief, or whatever else she may have forgotten. I take her for a walk every day, keeping her fit.  In short, I keep her company ALL the time.

Is it too much for her to come and enjoy the moonlight and the stars with me, while I go to the bathroom? And first thing in the morning – does she not WANT to see the sun rise, making the frost on the lawn quite sparkly? Too cold, she says. But there's not even any snow! (Although of course, she has no fur, poor thing ....) Only twice a day do I ask her to come with me. Every other time I am happy to follow her everywhere, keeping her company, even without being asked.

Now, about my bowl. No, I cannot eat from it anymore. A week ago, I went to eat food from my bowl, and something in it moved! I don’t know what it was – a small beetle? A spider? A half-dead fly? A tiny lizard that came in from the back veranda? I got such a shock I sprang away. Now, I know Mama would not put her face anywhere near HER plate if something moved on it. Mind you, she doesn’t put her face into her plate, so she can’t possibly understand.

Yes, I KNOW she has washed my bowls multiple times since then, but I have been traumatised. Instead of laughing at me, I hope you will understand, and show sympathy, which Mama is not doing. Different colours of bowls are not the answer. She seems perplexed – and vexed.

So last night she put my Meaty-Bites on my placemat. I tried to sneak them into the living room and eat them on the carpet. Mama saw me, and was not impressed. So I carried them outside, one by one, and ate them in the cold, all by myself. I was a bit sulky, I confess, but that was also because I wasn’t offered any of her chicken dinner. She said I wouldn’t like the spices.

Never mind. Writing my explanation has made me feel better. I forgive Mama all her idiosyncrasies, and I know she does the same for me. We did have a wonderful time this morning: I sat on her knee for a couple of hours while she had morning tea with her friends. So things are good between us.

I am wondering what the next topic for her writing club might be …. I think I'll check her writing before she hits that publish button.

Thank you for reading, and for your kind understanding.

Sunny