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This is a summary of the other things I hate: Unfamiliar male dogs, little children and clipping my nails. (Neither do I like getting my anal glands cleansed, but luckily for me they are much better these days than they were in my younger years.) When I meet another dog, I´m often forgetting to find out about its sex, before I raise the hair on my back, starting to call it by ugly names, and when it comes to children I must confess I´m sometimes in a mood, where I even regard adults as disgusting little children who are in need of a good beagle-barking. This behavior is not popular - it embarrasses both my mistresses, but I am totally unrestrained. After all I have got my reputation to live up to - being known as an absolute pain in the ass. My relations to my own family have (except for a few arguments and dirty tricks) mostly been very good. It is true that at eight weeks of age, when I was brought into the house, Sniff was looking at me in disgust, asking: "How long will THAT stay with us?" He has always regarded me as an object of disturbance. Occasionally he was kind enough to play with me for a while, but his brother - my cousin Toke - was far more keen on that matter. He was not so very much "older and more sensible" than I. Sniff became an old man at the age of about one year and a half, but that was nothing to care about. But of course he has also been suitable as a model for me now and then...

One of the very first evenings in my new home in Uppsala my mistress had to attend a lecture at the University. My "play-mistress" Löken and Sniff was left home to take care of me. We went out for a little walk in the dusk and I got lost for a moment, running across the footpath to dig for some buried cat´s dung which smelled very strong and exciting. Löken called for me, but I didn´t yet know my name. Finally Sniff got bored with waiting. He said one single and distinct "WOW" which made me following him immediately. Later he showed me how to lift a leg and pee. I was standing right behind him trying to do it the same way as he, but then I fell over on my side. Löken was laughing at me. This was the first time I realized, there can be a certain significance in the part about lifting my paw. This behavior I´ve later developed into a noble art. I am lifting my paw when begging for food - it´s even more successful if I´m sitting with my back straight, holding both my paws in front of me. This method softens the hardest heart and usually rewards me with a piece of something good. When Löken gets too pushing and I´m afraid she will hurt me, I use to humbly roll over on my back, strechting a couple of paws towards her with a deprecating gesture, in act to - if possible - make her forget that she was just going to clip my nails (or whatever outrage she was planning on my body.) Some other good examples are, when I´m standing in front of the door waiting to be taken out for my daily walk, or when somebody is speaking to me and I´m happily running down the stairs to get a biscuit. I´ve never been able to understand why humans have got only two legs, while we animals are provided with four. It seems to be an unnecessary luxury, so that´s why I try to spare mine a bit, avoiding to use them more than I need. For example in those stairs; I NEVER walk down the stairs on more than three legs - what a horrible waste! My body is short and compact - hence my balance is very good - so sometimes I´m standing just on my hind legs, but there is my absolute limit. It grieves me to admit it (but yet it is the disgraceful thruth) that when I´m standing on two legs, trying to even lift up one of them, I simply tend to tip over and fall - oh, how stupid I´m feeling when I do! NEXT PAGE PREVIOUS PAGE 1 2 - 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15