The Diary of Miss Darcy Bustle: 9 February

written by Miss Darcy Bustle 


over the weekend I was reading the papers and feeling really quite green with envy. In fact, I have come to realise that many things make me green with envy, not least other little doggies having much more fun. louis IV, the French boxer who lives around the corner with Pug man (he always used to have pugs), has his own four-wheel vehicle. So when they go shopping he gets pushed along. True, it’s a pram, but still, it is a set of wheels. like Rocco the Pug who was pushed around in his ‘pram’ at the Third annual mardi Gras Dog Parade in austin, Texas. But what does he do the rest of the year??


omG, as the young people say. I was sent a wonderful letter and thrilling-looking parcel from the lovely people at Trover. They make gorgeous dog-drying coats, which just slip over the body and make it all nice and toasty without getting soggy like a towel. yippee! Except when I opened it the coat was big enough to house 20 of me. Then I thought of my friend Teddy who lives with caroline from the commercial team. caroline took it home and it was love at first sight. Teddy had never had a coat before and loved it so much he wore it to bed! Teddy is a Dogue de Bordeaux and looks really butch but he isn’t really. He’s just a softie who loves to pose.


Harvey the corgi seems to have become quite anxious about my billet-doux from Parker, the gorgeous short-haired dachshund from cornwall, and has written me a poem. He has also sent a little card with it saying he is my ‘number one admirer’ – I should really be the judge of that! The poem is quite long and is rather lovely if a little confusing. The last stanza reads: ‘This corgi’s admiration is respectful, loyal and true. So I send this greeting of affection to delightful, shapely you!’ WHaT does he mean by shapely??? I’m almost skin and bones!


The editor’s husband is away skiing (I’ve never understood why people pay to get cold), so he arranged to have someone come to the house and take Duffle out. Duffle doesn’t have a job, lazy thing. It was a man who said he was called Steve. He had lots of other doggies in tow. He tried to take me too but I clung to the hallway rug and howled. He tried giving me treats to entice me but I stood my ground. no one is kidnapping me.


Duffle slept on the downstairs rug last night, listening out for Steve, the dog walker, to come back. What on earth is wrong with him? I thought he loved the editor’s husband. I’m going to tell him when he gets back.

See you next week! Instagram @missdarcybustle