When i was a young pup, the boss decided we move into the attic of the POW hostel. The boss was doing incredible hours of work, opening the pub at 9am and closing at 12 midnight. 7 days a week. Sometimes he would be so tired that one of his lady friends would help him to bed and stay until the boss was asleep. That was nice, i always thought, though a little noisy at times...

Around the time of our move, I'd just worked out, through lots of "encouragement" from the boss, that it was good to poo on grass, but not so good to poo on footpaths. I was getting the hang of it, and it did come naturally... but one night we had this new band playing loud and the doors were kept shut to keep the noise in. I was looking everywhere for a place to go, but all i could see was shiny concrete floors. And then my eyes spotted the comfort of a carpeted stage. In the middle of their performance i gave the best performance of my life, to an amazed, and stunned crowd. Touche!

See you soon for tummy rubs and big face licks.
Love Jessica