The GREAT Toy Betrayal!

Woogle here..... Let me set the scene. The doorbell rings. Mum squeals. Another box arrives—big, beautiful, brimming with goodies. I rush over, tail wagging, heart hopeful. Could it be? A new squeaky duck? A puzzle feeder? A plush bed fit for a king?

No. No, it could not.

Because apparently, none of these treasures are for me. Not a single chew. Not a solitary snuggle. Just more fabulous toys, beds, and enrichment items destined for other dogs. Other dogs who, I might add, don’t live here. I’ve checked.

So yes, I’ve stropped. I’ve flounced. I’ve dramatically sighed in the hallway. I even refused a treat (briefly). Because this injustice cannot stand.

Mum says it’s “for the business.” I say it’s betrayal. I am the business. I am the Chief Tasting Officer. I am the muse. And I demand reparations—in the form of some nice big juicy treats from my cupboard and a tennis ball to destroy!!

Until then, I’ll be sulking under the table. Don’t talk to me unless you’ve got snacks.