The Dog is Walked

I stayed awake all last night worrying over what the little scottie dog from Monopoly had hinted at. I found myself completely unable to enjoy ITV's new series of Dancing on Ice, though admittedly this was not through anxiety but rather through the programme being mindless pap.

I am preoccupied with the little scottie dog's imperative to visit a (medical) doctor and fear that I may have some terrible wasting disease. Still, all will be revealed tomorrow when I visit a (medical) doctor, and I cannot blame the dog for my current state of terror - I am sure it means only to help me.

To show that I was grateful, I decided to give the little scottie dog a treat. I think I have overdone food-based treats recently and am concerned that I may be harming the dog, albeit through kindness and not malice. I do not wish to create an obese dog because Victoria Stillwell of It's Me Or The Dog might appear to chastise me and I do not want to create a bad impression for I mean to woo her one day.

Thus I decided to take the dog out for a walk, which is something dogs enjoy partaking of. However, it was bitterly cold outside so I felt it necessary to swaddle the dog before subjecting it to the elements. Prior to today, the dog has perforce remained an indoor animal, for Monopoly is a game rarely played out of doors, what with the risk of the money and Community Chest cards being forfeited to the wind.

I gave the dog a boot and a hat to keep it warm, then pulled it around the streets of Dundee attached to a piece of string. Though it could not move its legs, I am sure it enjoyed itself.

I must now drink endless cups of fortified wine in an effort to stave off anxiety. I look to tomorrow with dread.