I ate the telephone

She accused me of eating her mobile phone.

"Where is it, Lochy? Is it in your tummy?"

What was she on about? Was she blind? Her mobile phone was on the bathroom bench but I didn't tell her that. Let her find it herself.

I must admit, I did eat her Philippe Starck fly swat when I was little. Well, she shouldn't have left it on the floor.

I always get blamed when she can't remember where she left things. Where are the keys? Where are my sunglasses? Where is my notebook?

It's always my fault that they're missing.

And when she finds them, does she apologise for her accusations? No. Never.

Sometimes I wonder if I am really a dog. I feel like a scapegoat.

Between me and her husband who is now in heaven and who I never met, but know I would like him, we get blamed for everything that goes missing. I have seen her poke her tongue out at a photo of him. "You are awful," she said in a funny voice and then smiles.

I, on the other hand, have an excellent memory. I might even have hyperthymesia. That's when you can accurately and quickly recall details about events that have occurred in your life, even when you were a new puppy and still living with your dog mother.

I remember my mum. She was a West Highland White Terrier, too, as was my father. In fact, the whole family were Westies. I had seven brothers and sisters. All Westies. We used to sleep in a pile. It was nice and warm (I was born on 24th May, so the air was getting a bit chilly). And I could feel their beating hearts. I didn't know what that was at the time but I do now, my human mum explained it to me. And the vet said that's why I like sleeping on the bed and not by myself.

I can even remember being inside my dog mum. It was dark, but there was the same soft beating sound over and over. I was pushed up against my sister, who is MIndy and who was in the crate with me when we came to our new homes. And my brother, who was the smallest of of all, had his back legs sticking into my bottom. I tried to wriggle away but it was all very squashed in there.

It was very safe inside my mum and we didn't have to think about anything like eating, chasing away cats, poohs and wees, itching or being nice to humans.

Then, suddenly, we had to get out. We couldn't stay, like my dog mum had had enough of us inside her. One by one, we slipped out into the air that my nose wanted to suck in, so I let it.

My mum was licking us all. And there were lots of new noises. We all stayed close together and pretended we were still inside our mum because we didn't know what was going on.

I remember it all. I can't see it because I my eyes were closed back then and dog's don't open their eyes for a couple of weeks after they are born, but I can still feel it.