The Broken Toilet

Warning: May be triggering

Well, it's happened again
I guess it was bound to
It was only a matter of time
I've worked that thing way beyond it's limit
Yes, I have broken yet another toilet
I'm not surprised really
This tends to happen when you're a raging bulimic
This is not the first toilet I have broken
Oh no
I remember being in London a few years ago staying with cousins
There was one bathroom between 6 or 7 of us
Needless to say I had to pick my purging time carefully
The flush on this particular toilet was little different
If you had just a wee, you pushed it gently and it gave a small flush
If you had, well more than a wee, then you pushed it a bit harder and it flushed harder
Now if you have any experience with bulimia you will know that once the expelled food is in the toilet, you just want to flush it away as fast as possible
Get rid of the evidence as it were
So being in a house where a queue could form for the toilet at any moment, I was probably a little aggressive with my flushing
We were all sitting in the kitchen one day when my uncle came in and announced that 'someone' had broken the flush on the toilet
I instantly assumed it was me
I turned scarlett
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole
My uncle the proceeded to give us a detailed lecture on how exactly to use the flush
It seemed everyone but me had got the hang of that one



So yesterday the same thing happened again
My flushing toilet bowl after toilet bowl of vomit proved too much for my aubergine coloured friend
He was over worked and under paid
They say you don't know what you have until it's gone
Now I've had to move to the toilet upstairs which I have to say has a far inferior flush
Plus the water pressure in the tap is little more than a trickle
And I just don't have the energy to be traipsing up and down stairs
We rang or go-to man for problems like this
Patrick
Jack of all trades, master of none
He called in the afternoon and I have to admit I was pretty anxious
I watched him walk down the hall with his tools
Mental images of the toilet exploding and showering him in vomit flashed in my mind
I wondered how I would clean it all up and how I would explain it to my mother
Thankfully there were no explosions and Patrick left to get a part for the ailing toilet
It was touch and go for a while but the toilet will pull through and live to fight another day

When you're bulimic, toilets become of paramount importance
You become an expert in flushes and water pressure
You excel in cleaning your mess with little more than a sheet of papery toilet roll
It's ok when you're at home
You know your own toilet and it's limitations
But when you're out and about, it's a different situation entirely
Not only are you using a foreign toilet but you also have to deal with interruptions
Restaurants are a mine field
Sometimes I check the flush prior to purging to make sure it's up for the job
But then one flush might not do it
It may take 2 or even 3 flushes
Not to mention you're in a tiny cubicle with only a thin wall between you and the next person
Over the years I've learned to be quick and quiet
I've learned to use the disabled toilet if it's free as it usually has it's own room
I remember another time again in London I was out for dinner at an Indian restaurant with relatives
I love Indian food so I helped myself safe in the knowledge that the food wouldn't be staying in my stomach for very long
Afterwards I excused myself to the bathroom
These were the days before I learned to check the flush first
So after purging I went to push the handle of the flush
It fell limp in my hand
No pressure at all
I immediately panicked as I was pretty sure there was someone waiting outside
In the end I camouflaged it with toilet paper but only made a bigger mess
I sighed and opened the toilet door only to find my aunt standing there
I forced a smile and went back to my seat
If she knew what I had done, she never said a word





When I was in Australia toilets were again a problem
My sister lives in a small 2 bedroomed house with one bathroom
That blood thing caused me no end of problems
It refused to flush certain food items and so I would have to fish them out by hand and dispose of them
It blocked a couple of times and I had to free the blockage with a toilet brush
Oh yes, whoever said eating disorders were glamorous should come walk a day in my vomit stained shoes

So yes, toilets and bathrooms become a priority when you're bulimic
I'm not telling you any of this to gross you out
I'm just telling you honestly the lengths I have gone to for my eating disorder
It's not pretty
It's not romantic
It's disgusting
It's degrading
It's not something I ever thought would be part of my life
So tomorrow my old friend will be fixed and I will continue on the never ending merry-go-round that is this illness
I will continue to test flushes the world over
Always on the look out for that elusive perfect flush
There may actually be a market for toilets specifically designed for people with bulimia
Great big bowl
Excellent flush
Perfect water pressure
Self cleaning
Now there's a thought.............

H.O.P.E

This week has been unimaginably hard
I'm not quite sure how I got through it
I'm on the verge of being in withdrawal
It's been lingering like a bad smell
I saw an addiction counsellor on Wednesday
I used to see him when I first moved here a few years ago and he said he can see a lot of progress in me
I explained how I have been misusing my methadone and now it is being reduced I am really struggling
He asked me if methadone was a type of weather what would it be
At first I hadn't a clue what he was talking about but the first word that came to mind was cloudy
And that's what it's like to be misusing it
It's fuzzy
A fuzzy bubble
This week I have been more lucid than I have in a long time
On the dose of methadone I was taking it's like I am blinkered
Like living in a fog
And because I more more sober my mind is clear
My father commented this week that he hasn't seen me this alert in a long time
But along with sobriety comes feelings
I've realise that I haven't been drug free since I was a young teenager
I've been numb for the last 15 years
Comfortably numb

I experienced a lot of anger and frustration this week
Mostly as myself
Angry for abusing my meds
For keeping secrets
For letting others think I am stable
For getting myself in to this situation
I feel like I've oppressed my feeling for so long that this week they erupted like a volcano
Like a shaken can of soda
I truly felt like I was losing the plot
Crying one minute
Laughing the next
But somehow I managed to get through it and today I feel alot better
I've never really dealt with feelings and reality well
I remember as child pretending that I couldn't sleep
My mother brought me to the doctor and I remember hoping that he would put me on sleeping tablets
I've always had a cushion between myself and reality
A buffer
And I've always believed that the answer to my problems was a pill or a substance
Yes drugs make you feel better but only for a short while
They just camouflage the feelings
They push them deep down in to your soul ready to escape at the next opportunity
Drugs do not only not work but they make the situation a whole lot worse
I am never going to get anywhere if I don't learn to deal with these feelings

I've had to take a good hard look at myself this week
I've done a lot of thinking
I made an appointment on Tuesday to see my doctor today and had prepared myself for round 2
But now I don't know if I'm going to go
I still have a huge issue with the way he reduced the methadone
I still think a 5ml drop was too much
But I can also see that the way I went about telling him this was all wrong
I'm sure I came across like a desperate addict and not a rational adult
And I do feel bad for unleashing my inner bitch
I don't doubt that he has my best interests at heart and does want to help me
In 9 years this is the first argument I've had with him
So whether I see him today or Monday I will apologise
Not for what I said but the way I said it
I will also ask him to reconsider my dose but I am prepared for him to say no
And if he does I will have to accept that
I have no other choice

I saw Mary this morning
I was much calmer
The last 3 times I've seen her I've been almost hysterical
She really has been an amazing support this week
Gone out of her way to help me
She focused on all of the positives this week
As hard as it's been there have been some positives
Coming off methadone is a double edged sword for me
On one hand I want to be drug free
It really is quite scary being so dependent on a substance knowing what you would be like if you didn't have it
But on the other hand I'm afraid
Afraid of using
I can not begin to tell you how much relapsing scares me
They say when you're in recovery your addiction is outside doing push ups
Getting stronger all the time
They say you pick up from where you left off and I left off in a horrendous place
Addiction is progressive
It gets worse over time
I couldn't go any lower
I dread to think of what could be next

Food has taken a back seat over the last couple of weeks
I haven't had the energy or the inclination to address it
Feeling all these feelings I've kind of turned away from food
Used it to deal with these new emotions
Mary weighed me and I'd lost 1.5kg since last week
This leaves me in a perilous situation
Mary can't seen me if my BMI drops below a certain number and I am edging ever closer to it
It's not her rule it's the service she works for
To lose Mary would be a disaster
I just don't know how I would cope
I need all the support I can get right now
So it's time to get on top of this
I have to make an effort and that starts with purging
I won't come through opiate and methadone addiction only for my eating disorder to kill me

Yes I am weak but I feel strong today
Yes a lot has happened this week but I feel positive
Yes I almost gave up this week but if I can get through this I can get through anything
I don't always want to but I feel I can do the right thing
I thought I was helpless but I'm more capable than I thought
Yes I thought I was a lost cause but today I have hope

There's something about Mary

Thank God for Mary
I wouldn't have got through the last few days without her
She is the only beacon of light I have right now
The only thing keeping me sane
I saw her yesterday
She has arranged for me to see an addiction counsellor today
I am still incredibly upset
I alternate between hysterical crying and feeling totally numb
I could barely look Mary in the eye during our session
I looked at the ground or examined my fingers
She is trying to get me to move forward
To accept things are the way they are with my meds
But that's the thing
I can't accept it
I can't believe I have no say in what happens to my own body
My own life
My own sanity
It just feels all wrong
Everything about it feels so wrong
I can't believe that it has to be this difficult
And having spoken to a couple of people and getting some invaluable advice from Dani and Loulou, I see even more that my doctor is doing things arseways
He is making it up as he goes along
I don't think he has any idea of the distress he is causing
There is certain protocol for methadone detox and he is all but ignoring it
I am his guinea pig
Everything time I think about I start to cry

Sitting with Mary today she was making a list of things that would help me get through this
But all I could think was what is the point
What is the point of anything
I just want to crawl in to my bed and sleep forever
Mary wants me to contact my friends and she asked me to contact one of them right there and then
I texted a friend but my heart wasn't in it
She still has not got back to me
Mary seems to have an unshakable faith and belief in me
I don't know why
In my opinion I am a lost cause
A broken soul
Broken beyond repair
I can't even imagine being happy or content
The concept is so foreign to me
I was there in body talking to Mary but my mind was somewhere else
I'm somewhere else
My body and mind are disconnected
I got home and decided to ring my doctor to make an appointment
I could only get one for Friday afternoon
I don't know if I'm going to go
I don't know if there is any point
But if I continue on in this miserable state I might have to

Having had this run in with doctor got me thinking
I've seen countless doctors, nurses, psychiatrists, counsellors and therapists over the years
And I realise that I've butted heads with quite a few of them
In fact the addiction counsellor I'm seeing today was one of them
I saw him for a while when I first moved here a few years ago
One day he told me that I wasn't making any sense
I was hugely insulted and argued with him
Then there were the nurses in treatment who I had big problems with
A psychiatrist who wouldn't refer me for inpatient
A counsellor who told me she couldn't see me because I was on methadone
A doctor who discharged me from treatment because I was on methadone
A counsellor who I had to make a statement against because he was being really inappropriate
I think back on all the incidences and I wonder do I make trouble for myself?
Do I throw all my toys out of the pram when I don't get my own way?
Am I the one in the wrong?
I spoke to my father about this today and he said that it's good not to take things lying down
To speak up for yourself
That more and more people question their doctors and don't take their word as gospel
People have more of a say in their own treatment and are not afraid to speak up
One thing that I have inherited from my father is an ability to use my words as a weapon
This can be both a blessing and a curse
When I'm upset or angry I use my words to attack or defend myself
So I inevitably end up going for the jugular
I can be manipulative and sarcastic and end up getting myself in to more trouble

But I don'r regret what I said to my doctor on Monday
I have no doubt that what he is doing is wrong and I will continue to fight my corner
I know that there is probably never a right time to detox but my doctors timing couldn't be worse
It's always going to be difficult but why make it harder than it needs to be?
My father thinks that my doctor is worried about the fact that the methadone has caused the pancreatitis
That he wants to get me off it as quick as possible
There is uproar in this country at the moment about doctor's misconduct and my father thinks that maybe my doctor is thinking that he should have taken me off it long ago
But if that's what he is worried about he hasn't said a word

Do you think it's a good thing to speak up about your treatment or do you accept what your doctor says?

Honesty is the best policy?

I'm so angry right now I could scream
I could punch a hole in the nearest wall
I could tear every hair out of my head
I'm crying hot tears of pure temper
I haven't felt such over whelming emotion in a long time and I just don't know what to do
Needless to say I saw my doctor this morning
I spent days rehearsing what I was going to say
I was incredibly anxious going in but I was almost 100% sure that he would understand and put me back on my original dose of methadone if not a higher dose
In answer to his first question of how my week went, I told him that I'd had a pretty horrific time
I explained that I wasn't as stable as he thought I was and had been topping up my methadone nearly every day
I told him that I had seen Mary and when she saw the state of me she told me to go straight back to him if not the mental health service
I told him that I had thought about drugs more this week than I had in that last year and was terrified that I would relapse
My distress was obvious
And do you know what he said?
He said 'Well I'm not changing your dose'
Why not?
You managed to get through last week so it can't have been that bad
I got through last week by the skin of my teeth, please can you put me back on my original dose
No I'm not doing that
How the hell am I supposed to manage? Do I not get any say in my own detox?
You told me you were stable
Well I'm telling you now that I'm not one bit stable
There has to be consequences for messing around, you could have told me last week that you weren't ready for this
It's hard to be honest but I'm being honest
I'm not changing your dose

By this stage anger was boiling was in my blood and my inner bitch came out
I'm not at all an violemt person but when I'm angry I use the only weapon I have, my words
I told him that he had no clue, not one iota of a clue what it's like to be an addict
To feel such helplessness and desperation
Sickness and using are the things I'm most afraid of
Either could kill me
I am his one and only methadone patient and I just don't think he has the experience to deal with someone like me with a dual diagnosis
Yes, he is a lovely man and has been good to me over the years but I do question some of the decisions he makes
We argued back and forth for half an hour
I don't know why I pushed him, it was obvious his mind was made up
I told him that I would much rather come off the olanzapine first as I am just as dependent on that
He said that olanzapine is not addictive
I told him that anything is addictive if you are an addict
Be it cocaine or cornflakes
Now I was sitting with my head in my hands refusing to answer his questions
He wrote out my prescriptions and I snapped it out of his hands walking out as he was in mid sentence
Not quite believing what had just happened
No wonder addicts lie if this is what happens when you tell the truth
I'm sure I ruined his whole day but he could be ruining my whole life

My poor mother bore the brunt of my distress
I drove home at brake neck speed giving out yards about my doctor
When we got home she immediately rang Mary
I spoke to her too
Or as best as I could through tears
She said that the reason he probably going ahead with the detox was because of my pancreatitis and impacted bowel
But he has never once said those words to me
The only thing he has said about the pancreatitis was that he thought it was a 'coincidence'
Mary made a few suggestions
That I go back to my doctor with my mother
That I present at mental health services
That I go to my support group
As I listened to her I calmed down a little but I'm still incredibly upset
I just can't stress enough how difficult it is to have something taken away from me that I completely rely on
Mentally and physically
And I have been thinking about drugs a lot
That scares the shit out of me
I watched the film 'Sherry baby' last night and as I saw her take heroin I swear I could almost taste it
The urge to use is immense
The thought that all this stress could melt away with the prick of a needle is so temptimg
But in reality I know that that would cause twice the trouble
It's just not an option

So where do I go from here?
I really don't know
I could go back to my doctor but I think that's pointless
I guess I have to suck it up and manage the best that I can
But having this crap on top of my eating disorder is sucking that life out of me
I'm so overwhelmed
So afraid
So angry
So drained
I can barley stand to be alive never mind face reality
It's all too much
I'm seeing Mary tomorrow
Thank God for Mary
She'll know what to do

Methadone

I've had quite a distressing week
I saw my doctor last week and he said he might reduce my methadone this week
So on Tuesday he brought the subject up again
I really didn't want to reduce it but I didn't know what to say and I had no reason not to reduce it
I often find that happens me when I go in to the doctor's surgery
I know what I want to say but when I get in there my mind goes blank and I forget everything I want to say
So he reduced my methadone by 5mls
It might not sound like a lot but any change is a big change
I started off on 70mls 9 years ago and over the years have worked my down and am now on 25mls
I came out of the doctors slightly bewildered
And angry with myself for not speaking up
But there's another reason why I don't want it reduced
As you know sometimes I mess around with my meds and take more than I'm supposed to
Being on 25mls leaves me no room at all to mess around
My doctor said that I am very stable and have been for a long time but that couldn't be further from the truth
I'm not one bit stable
Yes, I'm not taking heroin but that's about it
I abuse my methadone and other meds
They are my opt out of reality option
If I am having a bad day all I do is take some more meds and float away in to oblivion
I am not stable at all
My health is not great and my frame of mind is quite fragile
I slipped in to a depression on Tuesday
I was supposed to see Mary but I cancelled
I was just so annoyed at myself for not speaking up and telling him that I didn't feel ready to reduce
Also I have a huge fear that I will use if the methadone detox is not done properly
And I seriously do not want to go back there
I may have another round of addiction in me but I definitely do not have another recovery in me
I just don't



Mary gave me another appointment for Wednesday
I really didn't want to go but I made myself
I had no sooner sat down in the chair before I started to cry
I cried my heart out
Big, fat, salty tears
Mary asked me questions but all I could do was sob
In the end she just sat there silently beside me, handing me tissues
About 15 minutes later I managed to get control of myself and told her about the methadone
She asked me if my doctor had explained to me why he had reduced it
I said no
She explained that more than likely the methadone was to blame for my getting pancreatitis and also my impacted bowel
That my doctor probably thought it was safer to come off it
But even knowing all this, I still don't want to reduce it yet
Mary said that I really need a lot of support right now so she offered to see me 3 times a week and is also arranging for me to see an addiction counsellor
Bless her, she is doing everything she can to help me
I know it would really help me to go to a meeting but I can't seem to muster up the courage to go
I left Mary feeling slightly better
She told me to go and see my doctor of my mood didn't improve
She also suggested that I present at the mental health service if things got worse



So this leaves me in a dilemma
Do I tell my doctor that I've been misusing my methadone and hope that he puts me back on my original dose
Or do I suck it up and try to manage on the reduced dose
I guess this day was always going to come
I'm going to have to come off methadone at some stage
And there's never really a right time
It's always going to be really tough
But I just don't feel in a good enough place to do it right now
I don't feel strong enough
I have a huge fear of relapsing
The thought strikes fear in to my heart
I would much rather he reduced the olanzapine
I've been on methadone for almost 10 years
Ten
Years
Really a person is not supposed to be kept on it for this long
Really it's supposed to be a stepping stone between the drug and sobriety
And now I am completely addicted to it
Physically and psychologically
They say that methadone is harder to come off than heroin
They say that  it gets in to your bones
I suppose I am afraid that my body has become so used to it that it won't be able to function without it
And now after 10 years I am starting to experience negative side effects
Pancreatitis and impacted bowel are pretty serious
But even knowing that I have these conditions is not enough to convince me to come off it
I am just so very afraid that I will end up using
I would rather die than go back to that life
Sometimes I think back to that time and I can't work out if it was a nightmare or if it really happened
I feel like I am being forced in to this and I am just not ready
I guess I need to be honest with my doctor
I hate to let him down though
If I tell him the truth I will probably have to go back to being supervised but that's a small price to pay

Detox from drugs like heroin and methadone is not pretty
With methadone you probably won't start to detox until a couple of days after you take your last dose
As the last of the drug leaves your system, you will start to experience flu like symptoms
You will start to yawn a lot
Your eyes and nose will start to stream
Then you will get a dull ache in your arms and legs
You try to get comfortable but you can't
You alternate between feeling hot and cold
You feel clammy and constantly sweat
Now you really are feeling it
You feel as weak as kitten
You try to sleep you just can't
It's mental torture
All you can do is toss and turn and pray for this to be all over
Then the vomiting starts
You retch until all that comes up is stomach acid
Then you get diarrhoea
It feels like it will never end
Like your body is trying to turn inside out
This could last from 2 days to a week
So you see why I am trying to avoid this

I need your help here
If you were me what would you do?
Do you think I should tell my doctor the truth?
Or do you have any other suggestion?
Any advice is greatly appreciated

Curiosity killed the cat

It seems that a lot of us are struggling at the moment
I read blog after blog and people are really hurting
It truly breaks my heart
And it makes me so angry
Angry at anorexia and bulimia
They are poison
They poison our bodies and our minds and turn our worlds upside down and inside out
The leave a trail of destruction and hurt and pain in their wake
When I read a blog about someone who is just at the start of their eating disorder career it makes me so sad
Sad because I know the misery that lies ahead
It makes me want to shout at them 'Stop!! Stop Now!, Stop before it's too late!!'
I really want to make them see that this is a path they don't want to go down
But I know it's pointless to try and tell someone
They have to experience it for themselves
I've always been someone who has to learn the hard way
Heck, even the horrors of heroin addiction didn't scare me off
I had to do it to find out for myself
Even if someone had spelled out exactly how my life would turn out I still would've done it
As the saying goes 'Curiosity killed the cat'

My ED kind of started accidentally
I didn't seek it out
Anorexia was not on my radar
I wasn't weight conscious
I wasn't trying to lose weight
In fact for the first few years I had anorexia I actually had no idea I had it
I was barely 80 pounds and I had no clue
I figured I was this way because I was on drugs
When doctors first told me I had anorexia I was in major denial
I could barely handle that fact I was a drug addict never mind and eating disorder
It wasn't until I went to drug treatment for the first time that I finally admitted it
There was another girl there called Anna
We became firm friends fast
She had anorexia/bulimia and I could relate to her so much
She gave me the courage to admit that I had a problem but it was really difficult to come to terms with
At the time numbers meant nothing to me
It wasn't until doctors started weighing me that I began to take notice
The numbers seemed important to them so they became important to me
And now numbers rule my life
Any loss is a triumph
Any gain is crushing

Fast forward 13 years and my life is unrecognisable
Anorexia and bulimia have slowly worn me down over the years
Chipped away at my confidence
Eroded my self esteem
Stamped on my spirit
They have all but broken me
Left me a shell of a person with a cold brittle body
My health is failing rapidly
 Everytime I stand up I see stars
The floor tries to pull me down face first
Energy is non existent
Everything is an effort
Most of the time all I can do is lie down
I have no doubt that my ED wants me dead
And I have no doubt it wants you dead
A slow painful death
She will stop at nothing to break you down until all you are is skin and bone

My life today is nothing you could  call normal
I look 10 years younger than I really am
I guess I have never really grown up
I've stayed the age I was when I developed my ED
I don't work
I don't go to college
I don't have any friends left
One by one they have all left or I have pushed them away
I don't have a boyfriend
I live with my mother
My ED has stolen all this from me
Taken the life I could have had
I has taken me hostage and the ransom is my life
It's just the way it is
Part of me is resigned to the fact that this is just the way things are
That I can't change
I'm losing hope that I will ever recover
That I can get well
Piece together some semblance of a life
Some sort of sanity
Peace of mind
I'm slipping
Slipping fast
Someone catch me
Please

A day in the life of Honey of the dog

It's Monday morning
I'm waiting patiently for Ruby to come and open the door to let Lea and I in
We sleep in the utility room
It's our little bedroom
I spend a lot of time in my bed
Probably half my life
It's tucked in cosily beside the machine that vibrates
I can see everything from my bed
The kitchen
People coming and going
The birds outside
Ruby is taking her time so I bark a couple of times in case she's still asleep
Soon I hear her footsteps coming up the hall
She opens the door and I burst out to greet her
She talks to me and even though I have no idea what she is saying she sounds happy to see me
I know and understand just a few words
I know 'sit'
When I sit for her she gives me a yummy treat
I also know walk
Car
Outside
Dinner
Chewy
Bold girl, which she says in a very low voice and I know I've been bad
And best of all, good girl

Ruby spends a few minutes rubbing my tummy before she goes about her morning routine
She makes tea and settles down in front of the computer with a cigarette
While she's doing this I head outside
I walk around to the front garden, checking that everything is as it should be
I take a nice long pee on the grass
The dog next door is a pain in the ass
He is constantly trying to provoke me
He barks non stop, shouting insults over the wall
He jumps up at the wall and hangs on by his two front paws
Sometimes I bark back but today I just ignore him
I stretch my legs and back before heading inside

I go to see if Ruby is dressed yet to go for a walk
We go for a walk every morning without fail
Some thing is very wrong if I don't get my walk
Lea is very impatient in the morning
She dances around Ruby's feet until she finally says the magic word
Ruby leaves the room and Lea and I wait silently by the door listening carefully for her foot steps
God, I wish she's hurry up
Finally I hear her coming up the hallway
I know It's time now because when she comes in she has her jacket and hat on
Then I hear the jangle of the car keys
It's walkies time!

Ruby has a silver car
Lea sits in the back seat and I have my own special place up in the back window
When Lea first started coming in the car she used to get car sick
But now she loves going in the car as much as I do
Ruby drives fast
Her mother is always telling her to slow down but I like driving fast
She listens to 2fm on the radio
I prefer Todayfm as the play more music

It's Monday so our first stop is the doctor
'Back in a minute' Ruby says
I don't know why she says that because she is always a lot longer than a minute
While she's gone I jump in to the front seat
It's very bold of me because I'm not allowed in the front seat but she never gets angry with me
As I'm waiting I watch people coming and going
If they get too close to the car I bark at them
Sometimes they get a fright
I think that's funny
Well it is my car and I have to protect it
Eventually Ruby comes back clutching the blue bag she always has when she comes out of the doctor
I don't know what's in there but it must be very important because she's always happy when she gets it
She starts the car and we're off again

Ruby parks in the usual spot down by the beach
She opens the door and Lea and I jump out excitedly
The beach is my favourite walk
Lots of new smells
Lots of other dogs
The first thing I always do is have a nice long pee in the grass
We walk along the rocks and down to the sand
Lea loves the sand
She runs around in circles and rolls on her back with her paws in the air
Lea always goes for a swim
I don't go in to the water unless I have good reason to, like fetching a ball
Balls are my favourite toy
I could play fetch all day long
Although recently all my favourite balls have gone missing
I suspect someone may be hiding them

After a run on the beach we head home
I snuggle up in my bed and have a nice long nap
Sometimes Ruby gives me a chewy and I spend a while gnawing on that
I wake up from my nap to see Ruby getting my bowl ready for dinner
My favourite time of the day
Ruby gives me yummy food
Crunchy nuts mixed with dog food and tuna or ham
Lea wolfs hers down but I take my time and savour it
Sometimes when Lea is finished I go and eat what she has left
Ssssh don't tell anyone

After dinner I go back to bed for another nap
I think about how lucky I am to live here
My first owner was a woman with a small child
I was a puppy and the woman couldn't take care of both of us so she left me in to a dog shelter
I didn't like the shelter
I was in a small kennel with 2 other dogs and I never got out for walks
Ruby came to look at me  one day and she immediately brought me home
I did my best to be good so she wouldn't give me away either
And I've been here ever since

In the evening I usually sit at the back step and keep an eye on the house
If anyone calls in or even walks by I bark at them
It's my job to protect the house you see
I'm a small dog but I'm feisty
I make sure that people know that just because I'm small, it doesn't mean I'm not tough
When there's no one in the kitchen I get up and sit on one of the armchairs
Ruby doesn't mind but her mother does so I get down if she comes in
We are not allowed in to the sitting room at all
Sometimes I try and sneak in but I'm always caught
But the forbidden place I most like to go is Ruby's bedroom
If the hall door opens I tip toe down
There is a great big bed in there and I like to lie down and roll around on it
The last time I sneaked down, I found a  sandwich on the locker
My idea of heaven, eating a sandwich in bed
Ruby found me and she was a bit upset that I ate it but she never stays mad for long

It's the end of another day and Ruby puts me and Lea to bed
I fall asleep dreaming of food or cats
I get a good nights sleep because tomorrow we do it all again