I have to congratulate myself on my stealthy brilliance because as yet, the humans have not noticed that I have been sleeping on their bed since we got back from holiday. I have naturally been angling for this ever since I decided I might concede to live with them. For the past few months whilst I slept in my admittedly comfortable bedroom area in the kitchen, I had been playing recordings of my best haunting whimpers and cries with the occasional gnashing of teeth for added atmosphere. Sometimes I would cry out “No Angus No! Not Steeleye Span again!” to really add a bit of menace.

They did ignore me it has to be said but after a week of sleeping with my adorable self in the Mavis contraption I can only imagine that they could never be parted from me again.

I am a quiet hound. In fact, you would barely know I am there at night. I have an uncanny ability to insinuate myself into the smallest of nooks with the minimum of fuss and noise. Luckily I was blessed with a compact and highly controllable hound frame. ‘Long Shanks the Noble’ has been whispered by thousands behind closed doors. Years of yoga and some intense past instruction from my dearest Rudolph have given me the overall body control of a highly strung preying mantis.

What I really must object to however is quite frankly the disturbing grunts, poofs and whiffling noises that the humans make whilst asleep. I won’t even begin on the thrashing of limbs and the everlasting trail to the bathroom for a night time wee. It really is appalling and is sometimes more than a hound can take. At its very worst I am forced to don my leather eye mask (with a padded interior for extra eye comfort) and bespoke ear defenders to catch some well earned rest.

The other matter that I would like to raise is the alarming choice of night time attire that the humans decide is the height of elegance. The tall one will routinely wear a paisley silk smoking jacket (thigh length) tied with a satin ribbon, a ruched cravat and to top it off his hand made bed Fez. The short one is also a sight to behold. She seems to favour white lace Victorian style undergarments (layered up like an flouncy onion) topped with a hand knitted bed jacket with a detachable Reading Muff for the colder nights. There is a rumour that on said cold nights she also sports a bobble hat with specially lowered ear flaps. I really must have a word with them about their sartorial choices in life. Sadly the day time clothes are not that much better either.

Weekends seem to be a favourite as the humans show no great interest in peeling themselves out of their night time nests until late morning – which means I also get a lie in. Today is one such day which gives me a chance to steal the laptop type a few words to my adoring fan. I have been awake for almost an hour now so it is time I must rest my weary bones.

I bid you farewell for the moment. Pip pip.