Meet the Hounds: 1

I can forgive the jokes about my weight, really, whatever. We Labradors don't have the benefit of your superior monkey society and have yet to develop poor body image.

A little bit more understanding would be nice though; do you have any freaking idea where my breed originated from? How much food do you reckon was just lying around Newfoundland in the dead of winter? My ancestors died so friggen hungry they passed it on as part of my genetic make-up. Hunger is hardwired to my brain monkey-boy.

So tomorrow night when you and the alpha-bitch monkey are chillaxing in front of the talky-box, hoovering down ice-cream and chocolate biscuits, and you spot me drooling on your precious floor; how about not yelling at me then sending me outside, but showing an ounce of compassion and actually sharing your precious food glut?

Also: get rid of the black mongrel and the shrieky, eye gouging baby monkey. They bug me.