Me at ten weeks old!

The Madame found a CD this morning with some truly dreadful photographs on it of me as a puppy taken by the previous lot with whom I lived until I was somewhere between six and seven (they couldn't remember when I was born so I don't know how old I am and I don't get to have birthday parties).

Anyhow, she put them on the computer, messed about with the best one, clipping and trimming and dying and blurring the background and fuzzing up my fur a bit and made a tidy job though I say so myself. Much huffing and puffing as blipping direct off the screen didn't work - I looked like I was behind a gingham veil - so Madame decided that printing off a copy was the way to go (once the computer would talk to the printer - I thought they were machines*). Then more huffing and puffing to get a decent shot, uploading again and more clipping and blipping (including her language).

Because I'm worth it?

*Madame says her favourite joke is: computers hate it when you anthropomorphise them. I had to look it up. She does that to me a lot.

I am a Dog, not a machine ... or a human. And still a puppy at heart.

xx Flash