This has been the worst week of my life, ever. 

I had a bad claw. You know that one that sticks out halfway up your leg if you are a dog. It’s totally useless and I haven’t even got one on my other back leg because evolution took care of it. But the one that evolution had forgotten has been causing me problems. 

It kept on growing and growing and then it stuck out at a funny angle and then I got it caught on brambles and then it started bleeding and then Mum told me off for licking it and then it broke off and then the bit that was left puffed up and hurt me. So Mum took me somewhere to make it better.

Mum called it The Vets. Have you ever heard of it? It’s a weird place because the people are really, really nice but what they do to you is really, really horrid. 

For a start I was not allowed to eat anything all day. No food for a dog is absolute torture. Then they did a few other things to me that I don’t want to mention. They were so bad that I lost consciousness and when I woke up I felt terrible. I had a sore throat and my bad claw had turned into a bad paw. I felt so dizzy I could hardly stand and I had to walk on three legs because my bad paw was extremely BAD.

Mum came to get me. I managed to jump into the car but I couldn’t jump out. I had to be carried. I lay on the sofa and wanted to die. I could only eat my tea lying down because my legs were so wobbly and then my bad foot started swelling up.

Mum gave me something called Arnica, but the pill was so tiny it wasn’t really worth it. Then she made me sit with my bad paw on an ice pack. I didn’t like it but I felt so ill I didn’t argue.

That all happened on Monday. On Tuesday I didn’t feel so dizzy. Today is Wednesday and I feel fine except for this :

I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea to enter Britain’s Got Talent so that I can use the prize money to help out my family and the kind people that helped rescue me – Allsorts Dog Rescue near Brighton and Animal Heaven Animal Rescue in Ireland.

Pudsey won Britain’s Got Talent, but he had his human with him on stage. I was thinking of entering on my own, but I’m not sure which of my many talents I should use on TV.

This week I have been practicing ballet. This is me trying out jete (jumping) using the kitchen counter as a barre.

After all that leaping about, I had to stretch my aching muscles.

It’s really weird, most dog owners I meet in the park have a very limited range of vocabulary. They jabber away to their friends about totally unimportant things like the quality of the coffee at the park cafe and what happened to the man at number 63 when he was taken away in the ambulance, but when they come to speak to us dogs they only use the same few words.

A really common one is ‘SIT’. We all know what it means but in case there are a few humans reading this, let me demonstrate :

The other word that is used in the park a lot is ‘HERE’. The problem is that humans don’t realise that ‘HERE’ is a relative term.

Let me explain. 
If I’m in the park and there are no dogs to play with and the squirrels are in hiding and it’s raining and Mum says ‘HERE’ I hear her and head on over for roasted liver treat and an ear fondle and maybe a ball throw. She tells me I am the best dog in the world.

However if :

• I am on the scent of this Class A Amazing Smelly Stuff that the park rangers put down on the football pitches to help the grass grow 
• And it’s totally fresh because they only did it this morning.
• And it’s gone into these cute little cracks in the ground that the tractor has made.
• And I can get my nose right in to sniff it but can’t actually get the Amazing Smelly Stuff out.
• And it has been spread over the whole of two football pitches.
• And there are concentrated blobs of Class A Amazing Smelly Stuff heaven at the corners of the football field where the tractor turned round 

Then this is what happens :

I don’t hear ‘HERE’. I don’t hear anything. I don’t want a roasted liver treat or an ear fondle or to chase a ball. I want the ClassA Amazing Smelly Stuff. I want it NOW and I want it ALWAYS. 

I don’t hear ‘HERE’ because I know Mum doesn’t mean ‘HERE’ she means ‘You are going on the lead and I am taking you home.’ But I only want ClassA Amazing Smelly Stuff so there is no way I am going near her.

Even if she tries sending another dog to distract me, I’m not interested. I want that Amazing Smelly Stuff and nothing else. It doesn’t matter how many times she shout’s ‘HERE’ – I’m not here-ing/hearing.

That’s what happened last week and Mum was cross with me.

This week I have been confined to the lead. Mum keeps saying ‘HERE’ to me and giving me a treat. 

Of course I can hear her. She’s right next to me at the other end of the lead and the ClassA Amazing Smelly Stuff has gone now. So I gobble up my treats and look cute and hope that she will let me off the lead soon, because I really need to stretch my legs.

Mum tricked me today. She asked me if I wanted a tasty treat. She made me sit nicely then she threw a biscuit and I jumped and caught it.
   Big mistake!
   It tasted of extra-mature broccoli with a swede and spinach coating. No dog with any taste buds would call that tasty. I spat it out.
    ‘You’ve got to eat it,’ Mum said. ‘It’s a worming tablet.’
    ‘I don’t have worms,’ I said.
    Mum picked the tablet up and hid it in her hand. She reached out as if she wanted to fondle my ears, as if I was stupid. I ducked my head and darted round the back of the kitchen table.
    ‘Come on, Mickey, it’s good for you,’ she said as she came round the other side of the table to head me off.
    ‘I don’t have worms,’ I said.
    She grabbed my collar and wrapped her arm around my head, crushing my ears with her arm pit. She prised open my jaws and tried to slip that disgusting thing onto my tongue.
    ‘I don’t have worms,’ I said as I spat out the tablet again.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Andrew said as he came into the kitchen.
    ‘Mickey’s got tape worm. I saw it in his poo this morning,’ Mum said.
     I didn’t know what she was talking about.
    ‘What’s it look like?’ Andrew said.
    ‘A long thin white line of plastic, covered in dog poo,’ Mum said.
    ‘I don’t have worms,’ I said, but no one was listening. The humans carried on talking and Mum took a packet of Swedish Meatballs out of the fridge. Now they are tasty, but she spoiled it by shoving the worming tablet inside.
    ‘Mickey, here!’ Mum said waving the broccoli infested meatball in front of my nose.
     I don’t have worms and I don’t like worming tablets but I took that meatball, rolled it around inside my mouth for a moment or two before spitting out the tablet and swallowing the meatball. 
   ’Mickey!’ Mum sounded cross now. 
   I scooted round the back of the kitchen table to hide. If she could speak dog, she’d know I don’t like taking medicine unnecessarily. So I was just going to have to show her what I was on about.
    Mum and Andrew were saying so many unkind things about me they didn’t notice me going over to the sink. I pulled open the cupboard, stuck my snout in the bin and came out with …

My name is Mickey and I’m a Border Collie x Pointer or some other mixture. I’m about two years old according to my microchip, but my teeth are very good for my age, according to the vet, so no one knows the truth.

I live in London, but I came from Allsorts Dog Rescue near Brighton and before that I had a life that the humans are a bit vague about. I can’t remember either but it can’t have been too bad because I’m house trained and I don’t bite.

My forever family includes my mum – Jo, the author, my dad – Andrew, the cyclist, my step-sister – Eleanor (although she thinks she is also my mum but doesn’t look after me as well as Jo), and my reluctant step brother – Cedric. I’ve lived with them since June 2014.

Two cats live here too but they don’t like me much so I’ve never bothered being friends with them. I don’t know why they hate me because all I’ve ever done is try and play chase with them. Chase is the best game in the world and I can’t understand why they are so grumpy about it.

I’ve decided to write this blog to put my side of the story. I’m not mad. I’m just misunderstood. Hope you keep dropping by to see what I have to bark about.