When I was a child, my parents would occasionally find themselves looking after two dogs. The dogs in question were brothers: Snoopy belonged to my mum’s parents and Rusty belonged to my dad’s parents, and if both sets of grandparents decided to take holidays at the same time, the dogs would come to us. This was, of course, a very great thrill for me, although not so much for my parents, who knew that every visit with the dogs would end with me writing this kind of thing in my News Book:

It didn’t scan too well, but the text reads:

Thursday 29th September

We are looking after to dogs for a week. One is called Snoppy and one is called Rusty. One day Rusty pumped. he go such a fright that he jumped up and ran away to the other side of the living room. When Rusty eats he gets his bowl all over the floor.

Once you know that “pumped” = “farted” you will perhaps be able to understand the trepidation with which my mum and dad approached each parents evening, knowing that this is the kind of thing I would’ve spent the term writing about.

Incidentally, Snoopy – sorry, “Snoppy” – wasn’t exactly Mr Perfectpants either:

 

Thursday 16th November

I went to my granns on Sunday my grann has got a dog cold snoopy he is funy he can oppen the living room door when I was at my granns he was bad he dun the toylet in the cichon I get my tea at my granns I have sanwiches and biscuts and we play with snoopy

What I don’t mention in the text, but what is painfully apparent from the accompanying image, is that Snoopy didn’t just do the toylet in the cichon, he clearly dun it on the washing machine. (Now we know where Rubin gets that from!) And that my mum apparently had to lie on her belly to clean it up. Also pictured: my “grann”, who, like me, had hair the approximate colour of a post box. She’s presumably cooking up the “sanwiches and biscuts”, while I just stand there thinking, “I’m SO going to write about this on the Internet one day!”

Here are the dogs in question, apparently being strangled by me, and both thinking, “Oh God, please don’t let her write about us in her News Book…”

Rusty & Snoopy
Rusty & Snoopy

Snoopy and me

19 Comments
    1. OK, I admit it: I don't just have one leg, but I DID have three at one point. SO embarassing, can't believe I let the cat out of the bag like this! (Or the dog out of the cichon, as the case may be…)

  1. Loooool this is so stinkin' cute! Love the way you mispelled all the words! Apparently you were already having a dresses-love-affair back then! One orange, one purple – very pretty! 😉

  2. Umm, worryingly I have a similar picture of me dancing with our dog when I was a child. Only our dog was a red setter called Sasha and when you're 4 or so that really IS as tall as a house… or pretty damned tall at least! I'll have to dig that out and see what colour frock I was wearing…

    Don't think I wrote about Sasha's toilet habits though…

    <abbr>Caroline´s last blog post..Grey day</abbr>

  3. Amber these posts are flippin' amazing, can't wait to read more! Well done for thinking about stylish design at such a young age though, seriously your "grann's" skirt matched perfectly with her snazzy purple cooker and the bright yellow washing machine also matches your mum's vibrant lime outfit rather well. I love how she's just laying down on the floor cleaning by the way lmfao. Definitely a housework tip to take note of! Becky x

    1. Yes, I was very matchy-matchy as child, obviously! Slightly worried by my bright orange dress, though – why not purple to match the cooker I wonder?

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