My warmest greetings to you my dearest and most treasured reader. This evening you find me resting and reclining at my beloved writing bureau, idly flicking the custard cream crumbs from the recesses of my nightdress and waiting for the elusive visit of the muse. Oh how it defeats me! The winged bringer of words. I do however have a glimmer of hope on the horizon. We shall be welcoming a visitor next week to Spindle Towers in the shape of the short humans’ father. I have high hopes of meeting him as he is reckoned to be something of a quick wit and and all round Scottish fire cracker. Finally, the company that I so crave! We shall duel witticisms, do battle with verse and share our mutual love of words. It is now that I can reveal to you that I, Spindlehound, am considering turning my not inconsiderable talents to the well scampered path of poetry. I feel I can bring something entirely new and certainly more cheerful than the Leonard Cohen toot that the humans here seem to be so abnormally fond of. I will naturally keep you posted.

My other topic of conversation has to be I am afraid a bit of a grumble. This is a new departure for me, as I am as you know a carefree Spindle…but even a hound has her limits. The tall human, bearded, exacting and generally known to be quite sensible has bought me a gift. It was presented to me in a flurry of great excitement yesterday and I find his choice somewhat baffling. One had hoped he might have known my tastes a little better by now.  All I can conclude is that he is projecting his dandyish tastes most unnecessarily onto me. I am now the proud owner of a sugar pink diamanté collar and cerise lead. Can you imagine the humiliation I will face when next out with the chaps? I like to think of myself as understated, more of a twin set kind of hound. I will even stretch quite happily to a bit of tweed with a jaunty coloured lining. I must confess that I simply could not do anything to take away the glazed look of pride on his face so I made all the correct woofs and wags in all the right places and consented to it.

It is with this that I really must sign off, the girls are coming round tomorrow for bridge and gossip and I must get my beauty sleep – hopefully on a bed.