Hugo's Blog, with apologies to Molesworth

It wos muvvers day on Sunday an I bort my mum a bottle of wine an sum choclets. The wine wos all fer her, but the choclets wos diffrent. I fort she'd like 'em but mostly I fort she'd share 'em. But nun have come my way, not wun. It's not as if she don't no I luv choclets. She sez I'm her ickle wickle baby boy and kisses all over my face and tikles my tummee but wares the proof? I bin a good boy today too. Mum tuk me to the woodland place this mornin before she left me all by myself to go to Wubridge. She tuk me even tho it was foggy an chilly an we cudn't see very far. But she nose I luv a good run so she tuk me. Spose thats luv. And when we wos there I sore a rabbit an ran after it. Corse I did. Wot else was I ment to do? I'm a hound dawg. Swot we does. An I hurt my sore fut agan. Wen we got home my mum put a bandige on it an a speshal fing wot dont stik to the sore bit. An all day I hav left it alon so its all wite an nice an smart stil. My mum kepes been suprisd evry time she luks, an she sez I'm the best boy in the wurld. But stil no choclets. Wot do I haves to do? We been for are walk agan an my mum kep me on the lede al the way round the feeld. She nose wot I'm lik. I tride to run after a fesant but she stopt me. I'm goin to slepe now. Long day, lotz of citement, no choclets. S'all I can fink about. Shes goin to put the noizy lorn mower fing on agan. Dont no wy. S'all she finks about, been in the garden. If she sat down fer five minits she mite member that I luv choclets. Just sayin.

Me yestaday: Mum sed I wos glossee

Me today. I havint tuched the bandige