My name is Robbie

Just being my own herbalist today -  dunno the name  of the grass but it sure soothes my tummy :)

Hey friends, since I shot to a brief period of cyber fame in the  Blog4ft competition and got myself some fans, I'm still the same guy, handsome to the tip of my nose though that right hip does make me look like a laggard. Anyway, whatever the weather, I hold my head up high and try to look my best. Age is just a number and I'm not counting . Hey, am I all of eleven already??

Despite that hippy letdown, my good doc says I'm fit as a fiddle short of giving me a cert. Thank goodness my visit to his clinic is only once a year 'coz my mister, R says I am a disgrace! Yelping at strangers especially my own kind just won't do!!

For this  long overdue update, follow me round where I live.

One thing never changes with me . The missus always jokes about the centre of the garden being a landmine. I avoid it like the plague!! How my ears ache  hearing her  tell her friends this habit of mine. Can you blame me ? It's poo mine and when  the business is done, who wants to know? Not ME! Just skirt round the garden, take the  longest route to get from A to B. Meaning I do not take short cuts . Not even to make a dash for a treat . That way, my paws are ever pristine  clean. 

 Miss S loves me like crazy. She allows me to sit around when she bakes during weekends. I know I can't sniff a rat out but cakes...   

This is also where I like to be especially at lunchtime during weekends. The household gang gather  at the kopi tiam table wolfing down their steamy noodles. I hang around, drooling and hoping to get tiny offers. But  the missus (again!) says feeding off the table will see a steak disappear next time! Why does she say these things of me?? ARGH ! WOOF! ARGHH ! - I protest!

Who goes there? Just a peep over the neighbour's at the chainlink fence. Nothing much goes on  - the adults seem to go about their own way. Every Sunday, the good old doc holds a hand pump spraying his plants. Occasionally an old cat sits by the pots and stares at me - common sense says leave the old hag alone! Some might recall the neighbour slipping portions of dhall and rice  over the fence.It was a strict no -no  with my mister and missus. The lanky lady has obliged. *Sigh* my diet is as predictable as ever -  Royal Canin -for Seniors. 

 I can't wait to have the gang at brekkie in the kitchen. I'm used to shouts of 'Hurry up, it's late !' That's when my 'soulmates' are together, having their quick bite before going to work. I answer to every name called : Robert, Rob, Robs, Acha baby ( who else but from the mister himself!!).  Nothing like being patted  left right and centre and a good rub of the ears. Then, they turn their backs on me, jump into the car. Vvrromm...  Am left with the sparrows  taking dips in my bowl of water.

My usual  snooze in the backyard. I like it here. I play peekaboo- snoozing, half waking but I sure know what's happening. There's  Ana doing her housework,  my missus is pottering  among her veggie plot. Birds twitter  especially the sunbirds, oh  their shrill calls just seem endless.  The doorbell rings but who cares. Sometimes there's a kinda explosion in the air - it's only another neighbour yelling her head off at a maid.   

Bliss. The cool marble right next to my body. I could sleep like Rip Van Winkle . It's not often that I get to be inside the house. The missus (again!) says my tail whips around and knocks things to smithereens. I hardly keep still and go slipping and sliding. That sets everyone flinging their hands like jugglers. Guess it's my fault - am fidgety to my own detriment.