So, do you remember how I told you that my giant Doberman puppy is a menace?
Trying to make friends with bulls, eating bones whole… generally being unaware of his sheer size an strength…
Well, considering that this blog is becoming increasingly more mummy blogger-esque now that I’m a puppy mama, I thought I’d fill you all in on the outcome of our “fun run” at the weekend…
To start with, have you ever tried going for a run with a giant Doberman puppy and a miniature border collie who thinks she’s harder than Vinnie fucking Jones? Don’t. It’s horrible.
After getting dragged along for 20 minutes I stopped at a beer garden for a diet coke…
(Which reminds me why I love the British countryside. Pubs everywhere. Long live the Queen and the wonderful drinking culture she has bestowed on our fine country. Here’s to gin o’clock!)
Two minutes I left them. Two.
And this is what I came back to…
Every fucking time.
