Should I buy a polar fleecy? ......

A tidy, minimalist house; numerous walks every Wednesday and Saturday morning; the hum of the vacuum cleaner and leaf blower ringing in my ears. What did this all mean?

Hello faraway friends, It’s me, Feathers the Wonder Dog, reporting from a place I've now discovered is known as Tasmania. I have to let you know about the situation here down south. Just some background. At four weeks of age I moved from Scone to Sydney’s leafy northern suburbs and believe it or not – after just 12 years in Sydney - my whole life now has been completely uprooted! The last few months during the last stinking hot and smoky Sydney summer were busy for my owner. Klady and Sird were forever cleaning, polishing and moving the furniture around. Can you believe it - I was reduced to just two beds. (Whatever happened to the 3 other adorable, soft, comfy and perfumed mattresses; I guess will never know.)

And then there was the sweet smell of cinnamon buns each Wednesday and Saturday morning just before yet another walk or car ride. Very, very strange but then I have never lived through what I now understand, is a house sale. Anyway, suddenly I was shuffled to a new house and endured spending two whole weeks with a lively 8 year old black Labrador – who rumour has it is a FAILED guide dog. Yes. Did not pass the muster. (Between you and me I can’t understand why she's classified a loser - she is very friendly, licks and cuddles everyone she meets and definitely demonstrates that just like all independent and confident women, that she has a mind of her own.) Well to continue the story, a few days later I am collected at dawn by a young man in a van full of strange dog and cat smells and I was bundled into a less than stylish crate – all of this before breakfast. After a noisy night in some less than homely accommodation, this smelly box was moved into a large tube. I heard ‘fasten your seat belts’ and looking around the confines of the smelly box, there definitely wasn't one for me. I growled, barked, whined and whimpered trying to let these people know that this treatment was not proper for a dog of my breeding but to no avail. And then suddenly I was in a large smelly hall full of moving trucks and cars. Luckily, Klady was there and I can still hear her voice calling me through the barbed wire - Feathers! Hello Feathers!! I didn’t feel inclined to answer after all this ill treatment but to keep the peace, I just wagged my tail. And then FREE for a very, very long and satisfying pee on some weedy bushes.

“Welcome to your new home Feathers.” Yes. And that's how I discovered that I am now expected to live on the last piece of land before Antarctica. Great! Get me a fleecy!