Blimey, we're in the Australian newspapers!

So it seems I got it wrong before - there's another Chloe who visits fellers in hospital out in Perth, would you believe it? So I wrote to her and they put it in the Western Australian Post 



In case you can't read what I wrote here, I've written it again below (no doubt it was edited a bit): 

  

Dear Chloe/Dr. Feelgood.

 

An old pal of mine in W.A. sent me a press cutting about you, and I was so gobsmacked that I decided to drop you a line. Apart from the obvious things which any self respecting dog would own up to, like quality tucker and chasing cats, we seem to have much in common.

 

For a start I am called Chloe the same as you, although my humans use much ruder names to address me when I have committed terrible household crimes, like shedding my fur all over the best settee, or making muddy footprints on the Wilton shagpile in the lounge.

 

Secondly, I am West Australian like you. I am a Bitzer from the bush, born in a tin shed up there in Gidgegannup in the hills behind Perth. I was raised on this 5 acre property where I had a right royal time chasing chooks and digging up my humans` ornamental flower beds. But 5 years ago they decided to go walkabout to this strange place called England, and a few nmonths later I was crated up and sent off to join them.

 

Thirdly, my humans have got a son called Paul who spends his days in a wheelchair on account of being paralysed as a result of a car accident. He lives in Melbourne now so I don't see him, but I do know how tough life must be for him and for your mate Terry. I also know how much we dogs can do to help blokes like them, and I reckon that what you have done for Terry and the other blokes you visit is awsome. Incidentally, some of them might remember Paul (Cumming as he then was) when he lived in Perth and played in a band called "The Shuffling Hungarians", whatever that means.

 

So what a set of coincidences! You may well ask how I come to be in this rain-soaked land when I could be back in W.A. baking my bum in the sun and snapping at passing flies. Well its a long tragic tale involving men in white coats, transportation in a big silver bird, and a whole load of new experiences which would make your fur turn white. If you want to know more about this crime against dogkind read my book, "Home Thoughts On Abroad", available from Amazon .com, amazon.co.uk or the publisher Austin and Macauley (see their website). The book won't win the Nobel Prize for literature, but it may give you and your humans a chuckle when they sit down to sink a slab or two at beer o`clock. My male human is hoping to cash in on an offer from Hollywood for the film rights. In your dreams I say, but if it happens, its a case of move over Lassie and make way from the glamour girl from Gidge.

 

Well I must go now as it looks like I might score a walk on the beach. Go well old mate, and give all those blokes you visit a big lick from me.

 

 

It seems the bloke from the paper was so chiffed with my letter, he even ran a piece on me which gave him an excuse to fill the page with my lovely face!