Advice for Dylan Dog on his Miscellaneous Birthday (copyright: Bob Dylan). When asked what you do for a living, say you laugh for a living. When asked to do 100 push-ups always smoke a pound of deodorant beforehand. When asked if you care about the world’s problems, look deeply into the eyes of he that asks you, he will not ask again.

Do you find that January is a bit of a let-down after all the build-up and nonsense with Christmas & New Year. Here in Rumpy Pumpy it certainly feels that way, especially as Him Indoors has not really been on top form. He keeps telling me “I have so much to do for Festival” but I don’t see much sign of any action. It seems to consist of sitting in front of computer and getting frustrated trying to find agents who look after artists. He has a constant need for either tea or reassurance, but action doesn’t seem to happen in my view. I thought action required movement, not just tippitty-tap, but what do I know.

I have to tell you that although I’m not a fan of cold weather, as rather short legged chap, I truly hate the rain even more. I came to this whimsical conclusion this morning, the day of my 11^thbirthday (1^stFebruary), when Him Indoors took me out first thing. Jeez it was cold, the wind whistled through my rather soft, shiny coat and hit me with a chill. But as I strolled, looking splendidly good for my age I felt, I gradually warmed up to the point that sliding on the pavement became rather fun.

I have become an expert slider because our living-room is a wooden floor and sliding whilst ball chasing is imperative. I have mastered the art of a slide from the dining-table into the cubby hole, a distance of some twelve feet (so Him Indoors shouts at me), finishing with a sublime pick-up of the tennis ball. My pirouette turn almost involves me bowing, but I have decided The Boss may realize at that point that I am actually “taking the mickey” and refuse to play anymore.

As it’s my birthday I rather expected some bonus treats but they have not been forthcoming. My “present” seems to have been a rather large new water bowl. When I saw it, I was taken aback. I cannot believe he knew it was ssoooo big. I reckon its certain he bought it on-line and got the size completely wrong but I musn’t be choosy.

The reason I needed a new bowl was because he had a kitchen disaster the other evening. He dropped an oven dish (a very heavy Aga metal oven-dish!!!) complete with roast potatoes, roast leeks and olive oil which crashed into my bowl before dispensing water & dish contents all over the kitchen floor. I learnt some new and deeply unpleasant words, let me tell you. It was not a very nice time but I was truly well behaved as The Boss told me “stay out of the way” (that is the polite version). I’ve never seen so much kitchen roll on a floor. It was almost Picasso in its construction. Hence my birthday present!

As I reported last time, he has began enjoying football again. This is all because of a man called Ole. Him Indoors has taken to walking around the house constantly singing “Ole, Ole, Ole” to the point that it is becoming more than a little repetitive. He actually watches United games now as opposed to reading the paper, reading a book, washing-up or doing anything to avoid the tedium that was being delivered by the Portugese Git every week. It’s nice to see him happy again!

You will notice that I’ve avoided comment on the Brexit question. After watching the first two documentaries featured on bbc2 about the EU, I think its best I keep my doggie thoughts close to my chest. I was in enough trouble last night after I upended the recycling bag over the living-room. I’m retreating to a quiet life.

Woof! Woof!