After what seems like an eternity, I still remain a captive in the gulag for dogs. Last week I decided that I clearly had to take matters into my own hands if I was ever to escape the tedium of being locked up 24 hours a day with the imbecile of a kelb. I decided that my best angle would be to take ill, requiring the Vet to come out and see me. Now, this was a huge sacrifice on my part, as Vee Ee Tees are most certainly not my favourite people in the World, they always want to manhandle you! Anyway I was hoping for a spot of R&R in the hospital wing away from the moronic conversations I have to endure living in close proximity to a buffoon.
The vet came out and after prodding me around, she left me with the kelb! I was horrified. It seemed it would take a little more determination on my part to get out of the cell. Two hours later having accomplished my goal the Vet had to return to me. I made sure this time to seem on the brink of death, as clearly that was what would be required to be taken seriously around here! Much wringing of hands ensued, and I was placed on a drip and finally moved to a room of my own. During my stay in this room I had round the clock attention. The kennel hands kept poking their heads around the door looking anguished and I made sure to look as pitiful as possible. I was hand fed and pampered. I was sure by now the infidels would be consumed with guilt and rush to collect me from the gulag, having been in here for so long even they are an appealing option these days.
I should have known that this would not be the case and after three days of hanging aound I became very tired of waiting! I woke up that morning and decided there was nothing for it and chewed out the drip, shredded all my bedding and ate the door frame of the room all to show my displeasure. Seeing that I was clearly feeling better the Vet returned and my jolly in the hospital wing was brought to a rather abrupt end! I was thrust back into the cell with the kelb. He was absolutely delighted to see me again of course, the feeling was by no means mutual I can assure you. I have decided that I have had enough of his incessant babble and so I have claimed the bedroom quarters as my own. Every time he attempts to come in and bore me, I chase him away with a flea in his ear. I think I might enjoy this as a new form of entertainment to pass away the dull days of captivity. Having a companion, even if he is a buffoon, is a little more fun than being n the hospital wing really; of course the kelb doesn't have to know that.