Rump Lump

Fergus here. My humans got themselves in a bit of a tizz about a lump on my rump. Niece (as F calls her) was tasked with taking me to the V-E-T.

V-E-T just laughed and described me as (whispers) fat! She called that lump my saddlebags.

Niece (my boss) isn't exactly svelte herself and she just thought it was funny. F on the other hand suggested to me that perhaps we could go for walks in the evening.

I like walks. It takes my mind off the fact that The Boss has cut my rations and the only treats I am allowed now are carrots.

Fortunately I like carrots. F carries sliced carrots in her pockets.

And just to prove the whole darned lot of them wrong, I ran the whole way: all the way into town, all the way around Argyle Park and all the way home. F ran some of it and fast walked the rest. I think she has got the message..... I'm all muscle.

Oh come on woman...

And it wasn't a one off.  I get a run every day now.  F calls it exercise and enrichment.  I get so excited when she says the W-word and zoom about in circles when I see the string come out. 

We have walked along the river, round different bits of the park, different ways along our road.  I have been called (by various strangers) 'rugged' and 'handsome'. That's rug-ed not rug'd - although I probably could do with a hair cut. F gave me the Rod Stewart look the other day.  It was a bit styled.  I prefer the fresh out of the pond, rubbed in the grass look myself.