I am HUGELY confused. I must put it down to my ongoing starvation.
First of all, I have been hard at work constructing my cunningly-designed Hibernation Pod 2006 (I call it the Hi-pod for short). A fortnight ago, a new sofa-bed was delivered for the spare bedroom. I gave it a test-drive and found it to be extremely suitable. The cushions are very well-stuffed and mould themselves to my proud frame whenever I lie on them. I have used the sofa-bed as the base for my architecture. Alas, the building works have not been proceeding well. Every time I start work and then pause for a break, my partner or her mother put all the cushions and blanket back to their original positions and I must begin anew. My partner's mother has even gone so far as to say to me, right to my face, "Dogs don't hibernate Jasper.", which I cannot but regard as traitorous nonsense. Of course we hibernate. How else will I survive the cruel winter? "Central heating." is my partner's reply to this enquiry. She is being most unhelpful. She didn't buy my steaks either. She bought some minced beef, however, for which I was prepared to forgive her destructive actions over my nest, but she then used it to make a lasagne. Not good.
My diet continues. Last night I had chopped meat and bran for my tea. And Maisie has stopped giving me my daily rich tea biscuit. I don't even want to discuss it. My partner was away acting all day yesterday (playing witnesses in a court case for barrister training), for which she was handsomely paid. I was cared for in her absence by Maisie. An ideal scenario, you may think, for reneging on my diet behind my partner's back. But no. Maisie has been utterly taken in by my cruel partner and not a single unapproved morsel passed my lips. But wait! Surely my dear partner will have used some of her day's earnings to buy a little something for her loyal trusty sidekick? Not a bit of it. Not even a cocktail sausage. She did give me some sliced ham this morning though, so the healing process has begun.
Not content with starving my body into weakness, my partner has also started to interfere with my mind as well. In an effort to quickly memorise her many lines for the forthcoming play she has recorded herself speaking them onto CD and tape. Several times throughout the day I have followed the honeyed peachy-tones of her voice, trotting dutifully up to be by her side, only to find myself in an empty room with the CD player on. I must then commence my search for her all over again, with her recorded voice jabbering away behind me and her actual voice somewhere off to the left - or possibly the right. It is messing with my mind in a most serious way.
Of course, I need not remind you, friend blog, that BC is ENTIRELY to blame for all of this. The boy has much to answer for.