Yesterday I was given a new toy - a small, pink pig to celebrate St Valentine's Day. I hadn't decided on a name for it, but I think I will call it Pig. Hopefully Dad will post a pic of Pig at some point.
Anyway, I decided to bury Pig in my garden. Dad has recently dug a new flower bed, but I decided to ignore that and instead dig a big hole in the middle of the lawn. That seemed like a good place to put Pig, but Dad found out and disagreed. Pig is now residing out of reach on a bookshelf, and I was given a thorough scrubbing in the bath to get all the mud off my face and front paws.

(dad: you would think at five and a half years old that Pooch would know that digging is NOT ALLOWED. but that isn't a repentant look on his face... is it?)
PS Sorry about the lack of comments in the last couple of days, I will try to catch up by the weekend.