The Diary of Miss Darcy Bustle: 2 March


I made a new friend over the weekend called Agatha. She is only six months old but is already over two feet high. She will eventually stand at about 32 inches because Wolfhounds are the tallest dogs in the world. Given that I am only (and will only ever be) six inches high, we make quite an odd couple in the park. She is really rather meek for such a big girl and I am teaching her about life in the city. She lived in the country until last week and finds it all rather terrifying. However, I think we make a great team. For starters, the nose is already at the right height for checking out snacks that might be laying around the table. Not that I am getting her into trouble, of course. She doesn’t have to eat them, just pass them down to me!


I got a mournful note this morning from Harvey the corgi, who wrote to apologise after sending a poem that suggested that I was a little chubby. As any of my friends know, I’m not chubby, although I do accept that I spend all day trying to get more food. This is because I am still on the 100g-a-day raw food diet, which really isn’t a lot. I have given up begging from the editor – she is heartless when it comes to titbits – but I do have more luck with others, including the man in the local corner shop who saves me tiny crumbs of his teatime digestives. I hope he doesn’t get in trouble.


We dachshunds are like the great, late, Ronnie Corbett – short in stature but big of heart and good at making people smile, I hope. Certainly, there were lots of chortles when I got on the bus the other day but couldn’t manage to get upstairs. The conductor said that it was ‘regulation’ that I had to travel on top. But then someone offered their lap downstairs. and then another, and another. But he was adamant. Upstairs or nothing. What harm could I have done downstairs? When did the world get so inflexible? The answer is surely to have more dogs in power and make the world a nicer place – starting with the number 19 bus.


Day off today, yippee! I lay on the sofa and watched Places in the Sun: Home or Away. Who needs to do anything more exciting than that?


The weather is getting freezing and the only way I can get truly warm is if I manage to sneak into someone’s bed and snuggle under the duvet. Dogs in beds often seems to be a hot topic (as it were) around the dinner table but if I were human, I would vote for it. After all, it’s free heating and it certainly puts the cat off the bed, which, as far I can tell, only ends in insistent pawing for attention or scratching at the covers to get comfortable, and who wants that?

See you next week 

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