DDog 1: I am a canine dustbin. I will eat ANYTHING... except offal, because it turns out that I do actually have standards in the food department. I have a voice like a foghorn, which is very useful for scaring off salespersons, because they can hear me, but can't see me. Apparently, I sound terrifying. Despite this, I lose all courage and run behind Mummy when a Chihuahua (that isn't even tall enough to reach my knees) barks at me. In my free time, I always have a ball on my person. If Mummy is ignoring me, like when she is on the phone, I sit in front of her and squeak the ball very loudly and slowly until she sees sense and throws it for me. I'm a big fan of throwing unexpected foam parties for Mummy to clean up whenever I get overexcited and shred the occasional dog bed. Luckily, I'm brilliant at housework. I like to attack, or sit in front of the vacuum cleaner. Mummy says that I'm very helpful.
DDog 2: I roll out of bed looking amazing every day, unlike my human, who looks like a windswept Shetland pony... on a good day. I have an amazing smile, and an ability to somehow remain looking clean. At home, I am as calm as anything, but on the farm, I am an absolute workaholic. My favourite TV programmes are any that involve sheep, and working sheepdogs (in my mad puppy phase, we watched a lot of One Man and His Dog on YouTube to calm me down). Of course, I am the greatest sheepdog of all time, and they're clearly just amateurs on there. I'm also fabulous at herding cows, and do all of the work, while Mummy is only there for ornamental reasons. My favourite mode of travel is by quad bike. Journeys by car are much improved by views of sheep, or Border Collies (the best breed of dog, in my opinion). When I'm out in town, I amaze people with my good manners, to the point that they give me treats (although sometimes, if I don't like the one that they chose, I give them back and choose a different one instead). I know to sit and look for traffic, which I specifically do EVERY time Mummy attempts to make me walk past the butcher's shop. Silly Mummy thinks that her lack of money is an excuse to not go. I think otherwise, and sit stubbornly waiting to cross. This has earned Mummy a few people asking if she is OK, because she looks to be arguing with me. I mean, it's not MY fault that you forgot to bring your purse on a dog walk, is it?