"The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's." – Mark Twain, Letter to W D Howells, 4/2/1899

Charlotte


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My mistress has many friends. Some of them are male and some are female.

Her favourite female is Charlotte.

She is very well dressed, at least according to my mistress she is.

But more importantly, she has three dogs and a very nice Jaguar sports car.

It’s a bit of a tight fit, but we can all squeeze into her car.

She drives it very fast and we get bounced around a bit, but I don’t mind, my mistress drives like that all the time.

Sometimes I have to hold on with my teeth to avoid being thrown out of the car.

It’s all very exciting, but sometimes my teeth hurt.

Small price to pay, though.

Charlotte’s dogs are very well travelled, and they tell stories of far off towns and cities.

I try to pretend that I’ve been to all of these places, and I have been to some, but not all.

I don’t want to sound like a country dog who never goes anywhere. 

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