Mum threw a fantastic party to celebrate the release of our first book, and I must say I had a blast. You just can’t believe how many oohs and ahhs and belly rubs I got. Well, actually, if you know anything about me at all, you probably can believe the attention I got. After all, the Royal Pooch is hugely popular.
Mum has joked that folks would be more interested in me than they were her, and you know what? She was right. We even caught one person on camera saying, “We didn’t come to see Kathy, we came to see Lord Banjo!” Proof positive, I’d say, that I’ve won the popularity contest.
If you’ve any doubts about my popularity, you need only look at the photos of my fans throwing their arms around my neck or kneeling at my paws as the gaze adoringly at me. My loyal subjects even came bearing gifts! That’s right; I received a purple beach towel for the royal yacht plus several squeaky toys. One cute little boy brought his toys to share with me.
You will recall that the Royal Seamstress made me a purple velvet robe and golden crown. Were they able to see me dressed in my new royal clothes, I’m convinced my Great Pyrenees ancestors would be proud. The Royal Mum wore a tiara, and even the Royal Dad donned a purple robe, so the entire family looked spiffy that day—except, of course, Princess Puddin’.
My feline sister wasn’t invited to the party, and I’m quite sure she’d have thrown a little fit had we tried to dress her up. Do you think the term hissy fit comes from kitty behavior? Puddin’ is a sweet girl, but she throws a spectacular fit when Mum brushes her. On those occasions, the entire neighborhood knows the Princess is not happy! I can only imagine how the fur would fly if Mum attempted to dress her in a tiny purple cape.
Me? I love my new duds and wish Mum would let me wear them more often. She insists they’re only for special occasions, though. The rest of the time I must make do with the sporty bandanas the Royal Groomer gives me. No matter, I look handsome in those too.
Since the party, it’s been awfully quiet at the Royal Abode, and I’m getting only my usual belly rubs from Dad and a few foot rubs from Mum when I recline beneath her writing desk. Mum informs me the royal robe won’t come back out until our next book signing, a few months hence. I think she should get on the stick and fill my schedule with weekly appearances. How else will I get the respect and belly rubs I’m due?
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