- I’m not entirely sure it’s spelled that way. Too scared last night to care and too tired this morning to Google it. ↩
Hello. The sign above the door said, “Happy Dog Training Centre”. It should have said, “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”. I think there must have been something in the water. Or the sausages. And now, things seem well, a bit different. Not in a bad way. Just, different. I sit and wait patiently1 for my food bowl to be placed on its mat and for my human to blow a whistle before I eat. I walk by my human’s side when we’re out walking instead of leading the way. I stop and wait at road crossings. I’m also getting better when there are other dogs nearby. They seem far less frightening than they used to before. I think sausages make you less afraid.
My name is Morgan. I am a good boy sit, good boy wait, good boy come, good boy down, good boy steady, good boy what is this. My humans are very proud of me. I am a very good boy, what is this, nicely, good boy Morgan.
I hope we go back to the magic school again soon. I’m sure there are a few more magic tricks this old pirate-dog could learn. And a few more sausages to eat.
a long upholstered seat with a back and arms, for two or more people. Or Morgan.
see also Sofa Club.
The first rule of Sofa Club is, “Nobody talks about Sofa Club.”
The second rule of Sofa Club is, “Nobody talks about Sofa Club.”
The third rule of Sofa Club is, “Don’t get onto the sofa until the humans have gone to bed.”
The forth rule of Sofa Club is, “Get off the sofa before they get to the bottom of the stairs.”
The fifth rule of Sofa Club is, “Look cute and innocent if your human suspects you’ve been sleeping on the sofa instead of your nice, comfortable dog bed.”
Hello. My name is Morgan and I have a guilty secret. I enjoy sleeping on my human’s sofa. Every night. For over two weeks. I wait until they’ve gone to bed so it’s not as if they’re using it. It’s. Just. So. Comfortable. They haven’t specifically asked me not to sleep on it. Well, not in writing. So it doesn’t count.
I’m not even sure they realise I’ve been doing it. I came close to being caught in flagrante yesterday morning so today I took the additional precautionary step of getting off the sofa and into my bed as soon as I heard my human stirring. Haha. The look on his face when he saw me. The praise he lauded upon me. The first belly-rub of the day. The odd chuckling noise he made as he walked past the sofa. Humans are easily fooled1.
I’d happily let them swap so I could be on the sofa all of the time. All they have to do is ask. Nicely. My name is Morgan. I am a good boy.
Hello. My name is Morgan. I like to help around the house. Most recently I’ve decided to help with the mail. Whenever anything drops through the letterbox it’s my responsibility to ensure that;
Some envelopes are thicker than others. These are apparently called “ballot papers”. I left my very own mark on those. My humans said that I may have spoiled them. I disagree. They look much better with holes in. The pet shop my humans buy me treats from sent them a loyalty card. It was quite chewy but lacked flavour. I’ve read that newspapers are used to wrap fish and chips. Unfortunately, I have yet to find any despite vigorous scrutiny. I can’t wait to try a proper Indian takeaway if the taste of the menus is anything to go by. There’s so much variety. I doubt I’ll ever grow tired of checking the mail.
I like helping. My name is Morgan. I am a good boy.
Hello. My name is Morgan. My human made me a pirate ship today. Well, that’s what he said it was. I wasn’t entirely sure. It lacked some of the finer points. He said it was made with things from the Amazon. It looked like a large cardboard box stuffed with paper to me. Given that he’d obviously gone to so much effort, I thought I’d play along and jump aboard. It was then that it hit me. The intoxicating smell of buried treasure. Hidden amongst the sails. So much treasure. So many sails. So much fun. Clambering through the rigging. Getting caught in the rigging. Falling overboard. Clambering aboard again. Getting entangled in the sails. Capsizing the ship. Eating all of the treasure.
The ship didn’t fare too well. The last I saw, it was beached on the lawn. Nestling on a bed of tattered rigging and sails. Getting damp in the drizzle.
My name is Morgan. I am a good pirate dog.
Q: A train leaves the station at 6:00pm traveling west at 80mph. On a parallel track, a second train leaves the station 3 hours later traveling west at 100mph. At what time will Morgan get some more charcoal bones?
I learnt a new trick the other day. It was so easy, even a human could do it1. I tricked my humans into thinking I wasn’t well. And what do Morgans’ get when they’re poorly. Freshly cooked chicken breasts with boiled rice. Yes! Result! Om, nom, nom-nom. The humans thought I was off my food. Perhaps even avoiding them. Too right I was. They were denying me my canine right to charcoal bones in my kibble2. They thought they’d won but I was in for the long game. Little did they know I can sulk like a middle-sized human. And devour a bowl of chicken and rice in about 30 seconds flat. And the best part; they’d made enough for a couple of days. I’m dining in style. I like learning new tricks. My name is Morgan. I am a cheeky little monkey. Apparently.
Hello. My name is Morgan and I am an addict. It started off quite innocently. And then, before I knew it, I was hooked. Nothing was the same. Everything was grey and bland without my daily fix. I blame my human. But in all fairness, he probably didn’t know where this would end up. Humans say hindsight is a wonderful thing. It’s something dogs take for granted. I think it means something entirely different to humans1.
I digress. It was supposed to cure a problem. Not cause one. “They’ll help with your wind”, he said. “Good boy. Sit. Wait. Good boy Morgan.”, he said as he unfurled his fingers, revealing something so unassuming. So innocent. So deliciously tasty. So drool inducing. A treat above all other treats2. Charcoal bones3. Yup. My name is Morgan and I’m addicted to charcoal bones. Can’t get enough of ’em. The biggest mistake was slipping a few in my bowl along with my kibble. I guess he thought it’d be a good idea to mix them together before I ate. Big mistake. I eat them first. He took to hiding them at the bottom of the bowl. This necessitates shovelling the kibble out of the bowl and across the kitchen floor with gay abandon.
My human forgot to put them in my bowl this morning4. One sniff was all it took to reveal that my first fix of the day wasn’t nestled under a layer of kibble. Time to scout the garden just in case he’d hidden a few in the grass. Nope. I saught refuge in my bed. I didn’t have to wait too long before he remembered. I rushed to my bowl. Yes. Yes. Yes! I shovelled the kibble aside and dug deep. My nose and tongue worked in unison like a, erm, nose and tongue. It didn’t take long before I’d found and devoured every single fragment. And left the kibble. On the floor mostly.
I’m now laying on my blanket in the lounge. Pretending to sleep. He’s muttering something about, “eating the bloody stuff before we go for a walk.” It’s a waiting game. A battle of wills. I think I know who’s going to win. My name is Morgan. I am a good boy.
My human’s twisted his knee. He’s blaming me. It’s not my fault that I can’t see him for half the time1. He should look where I’m walking. And be continually prepared for the unexpected2. I wonder if my other human will take him to see the vet. I’m sure he needs his temperature taking.
My other human took me for my morning walk today. I quite like her. We sing songs. Well, she sings and I hum the tune3. She also gives me treats. All I have to do is look at her when she says my name, sit and be very, very still. My name is Morgan. I am a good boy.