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A whole year. Me and her. My MBNAD woman has been mine for a whole year. I know she misses the Princess still and sometimes it makes her have the wet nose and eyes problem. She tells me that she wouldn't swap me for the world. I used to worry that she'd swap me for the Princess but I know now that she wouldn't; she'd love us both.

So for Our Anniversary, we're There for the weekend. Grand. A year back I didn't know anything about Here and There, or the Throw-Money-at-it-Bridge or Wales-Powys-Home. I used to be scared of the dogs in the farm up the hill and I didn't like to go through gates just in case I was going to be shut in. It's so nice being with her and nothing scares me if I'm with her.

So when she came back from whatever it is that she does that she calls work, I knew straight away that we were off There since the Red-Going-There bag came down stairs and we were off.

"Wales, Powys, Mossie. Home"

We arrived at bedtime but first we always go for a walk around the There Village. We stood on the hill and watched the stars for a bit. Then bed. I even have a bed all of my own Here and There. I never even had a bed anywhere before.



So waking up this morning was lovely. Next to the radiator and being smiled at by my MBNAD woman. An early morning walk and breakfast. What more could a Wobble want?

Well, for a start no more building work. What I hadn't realised last night was that there was building work There as well as Here. For Dog's sake, WHY? It's the Washing Room. Now it's been turned into a Washing Room (with Peeing) and a separate Peeing Room. Completely bonkers. Seems to me that she does far too much of that washing thing and as far peeing, what's wrong with a tree? Alright, so she's a Bitch ( my Bitch), so maybe trees aren't quite right but why not just a quick squat-and-puddle? Then we wouldn't have to have builders for Jam Rooms, Washing Rooms and Peeing Rooms. And no more Mess. But I spose that I forgive her.


Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.