Out of luck In Oslo
Well, as the nun said, “This is not good.”
It was raining in Oslo, of course. It’s raining everywhere in Scandinavia. It never stops. It never really rains, it just sort of pisses down intermittently—you never know. If you go out of the house there’s a good chance you will get rained on, but like I said, not too hard. I really don’t mind it on our neighbourhood walks at home.
Well anyway, I was at the contest—ready to go, and it wasn’t raining, but there were a lot of other bitches waiting to go on ahead of me. My turn finally came, and with it—Rain. I could not believe it! My new hairdo was perfect, combed to perfection, bushed to a golden, copper sheen. Ruined in 2 minutes! I looked like I was trained hard and put away wet. I was so humiliated. Needless to say I didn’t make the cut list.
I’m home and feeling fine now. It’s good to be back and playing with Smoothy, our house cat. I have my pink ribbon and my little trophy from the other contest—my first trophy. I could do worse.
There are a lot more contests coming up, I just hope the Hollywood gossip rags don’t hear about my Oslo incident . Probably not. When’s the last time you heard about something that happened in Norway?
‘There’s no such thing as bad publicity’, one of the older bitches told me. Whatever.
It’s still raining in Sweden. Don’t come to Scandinavia unless you were born with gills.