My name is Charlie and I am a 2 year old yellow Labrador

I live with my mum & dad in a little cottage in a village where the Labrador population outnumber the humans, which is excellent as I have heaps of mates who I go for walks with and go around to their houses to play and trade toys!

My favourite things are eating, going for walks, swimming in the lake, going to the pub, and more eating!!

My best friend at DogQuest is Cai, I have known him since I was a puppy, and he showed me the ropes at work, we also both enjoy a walk around the lovely estate where our offices are at lunchtimes.

G’day all – My name’s Sydney named after one of the greatest cities in the world!

I’ve come all the way from sunny Aus and now live with my mum Allie and UK best friend Betsy, who for some reason only has 3 legs!  Weird, perhaps it’s a British thing, but she’ll probably tell you about that herself.

I was born in Bondi Beach, Sydney and am a true surfer dude.  Even in cloudy Britain, I think you can still see that I’m a surfer by my hair.  

I met my mum when I was very young when I went to live with her in Potts Point in Sydney city!  We had a great time and my favorite part of the day was going to the park to see my mates – They included my best mate Herman who was a Chihuahua x French Bulldog (we used to go to the beach together) and best girlfriends Giselle and Chardonnay, who both have long white hair, a bit like mine but more beautiful! Gorgeous!

We also used to go back to Bondi for beach days – In case you’ve never done it, the beach and swimming are the very best thing in the world.

My other favorite thing was shopping – that means only going to “Paws Point”, no other shops thanks.  But Paws Point - what a shop that is!  Treats, toys, mates, it had it all.  There don’t seem to be any shops like that in Britain, not that I’ve come across anyway.

The only downside of city living was the beauty parlour!  I dont know what got into my mum who seemed to think that I should visit these versions of dog hell regularly. Oh the misery of bathing, blow drying and having your most intimate bits trimmed. I've been told this is a city, metroman thing and us country lads have no time for all that! Au natural and proud of it!

So that was my Aussie life, what a difference a year makes!  I now live in Gloucestershire and work for Dogquest.  

Prior to leaving Australia I had a somewhat embarrassing flea problem.  You have no idea the power of Australian fleas! Unfortunately I lost rather a lot of coat during this period and my plan of arriving in the UK and stunning all I met with my Bondi born glory had to be shelved.  I had to slink into the country amid accusations of hairless ancestors!  I have nothing against hairless mates, it’s just that I don’t consider myself to be one of them.

Hirsuteness was not my only issue, suffice to say, I will NEVER fly again!

Anyway enough of that.  I have now grown up, my beautiful coat has come back and I take my life seriously… work, parties, mates, everything.  I live in the countryside, where unlike Sydney you can just go outside and run around without having to go on the lead.  I’ve got some friends called Mungo and Piglet who are a lurcher and terrier and they love to what they call “hunt”.  I really don’t know what that is, but they seem to get very excited and seem to be looking for something, but don’t ask me what.  I haven’t worked it out yet, but am hopeful that sooner or later I will understand.

But anyway I have more important things to worry about as I go to work every day and run the Dogquest office.  Whilst I have been told that serious guarding is not necessary, mum doesn’t realize that I still think about my teeth and some of the visitors trouser legs all connecting up.  Not all visitors just some.

I live with my friend Betsy.  She’s not very big and only has 3 legs, but she is a bit bossy (actually quite a lot bossy) and can be a bit scary when she wants something.  She tells me she’s a pedigree Chihuahua, although all the Chihuahuas I’ve met before were much smaller, but I’m not about to argue with her!

We go for walks but I have some reservations about the English countryside.  Undergrowth and surfer hair don’t go together.  You would not believe the problems I have with “bits” and tangling.  So in view of this I have put my paw down and made it quite clear that I don’t walk in woodland or bushy places.  The beach would be perfect but I’m told that the beach is too far away for every day walking, so open fields are my thing now!

I had my first British Christmas last year and there was snow.  What fun is that stuff, although you do get snow legs and have to spend some time thawing after going outside. My mum, Betsy and me spent Christmas in Somerset with a load of our extended family.  I think there were 12 of us dogs and it was amazing.  I just love parties as you can see from my pic.

So all in all I love my new British life (no fleas!!), my work, my mates, parties and all, but sometimes I think about Bondi beach and wish I could visit. Then I think about flying and …..

Goodness, well, where to begin?  I am Bitsy Roeves, sometimes known as Little Bit (short for “Little Bit Of A Dog”).  Not sure what my mother is on about there, as although I only have 3 legs, there’s plenty of me.

I know the first thing you want to know is, what happened to my 4^th leg?  Well everyone wants to know that but I must start my “tail” at the beginning and cannot be rushed!

My very early life is a little hazy, although I can tell you that I have a long and illustrious pedigree and can trace my ancestors for many generations, whatever anyone says to the contrary.

However, sadly I found myself at a year old in the company of a gentleman owner of a Chinese takeaway. These years later I have had to blot out the horror of my life there, but needless to say and preferring not to become sweet and sour Chihuahua balls, I took it upon myself to leave and find a better place in life.  Like all great escapes, mine involved spending some time on the streets, in police custody and being returned to the miserable jailor’s clutches. But my spirit was strong and one day I finally ran into (rather literally and very nearly fatally) my mother.  I was just embarking on my latest bid for freedom and making a dash away from the takeaway across the street whilst foolishly forgetting to look. Fortunately my quick thinking “mother to be” had lightning reactions and missed running me over.  After picking me up (I tell you I am ashamed to say I was filthy) and after making all sorts of thankfully fruitless enquiries, including yet another visit to the police station, she took me home to await the dog warden.  Luckily the dog warden was tied up elsewhere for 2 days, during which time I established that this was a most suitable place for a Chihuahua of my stature and got my paws firmly under the table, so it was agreed I could stay.  Imagine my horror when 2 weeks later the gentleman takeaway owner surfaced and demanded I return, whereupon I was borne helplessly away to rejoin my miserable previous life.  However, I was not to be beaten and at the first opportunity I legged it.  Finally the police investigated my conditions and possible future as Chihuahua Chop Suey and got the message and removed me from the gentleman’s clutches and placed me legally with my Mother.

From then on life improved and I settled over time into a happy existence gaining good control of the household and ensuring that it suitably revolved around me.  A number of years passed and I enjoyed a happy existence with my then companion, a fine fellow by the name of Errol Flynn.  A terrier with a slight obsession with hunting, but I forgave him that, as he didn’t appear to be able to help it.

However, as with all great and beautiful beings, my life is never straightforward and life took yet another turn in the form of a devilishly handsome chap going under the name of Piglet!  One look and I was helpless to resist his manly charms.  He was and still is the love of my life and as these things do, one thing led to another and I found myself "with child" and although I know he loves me, Piglet seemed unable to deal with the situation and abandoned me to my fate. In due course and following an appalling labour (I’m never doing that again!) I produced 2 puppies.  One was a fine little girl, resembling myself closely, the other a sad little ginger creature, whom I promptly rejected.  Bizarrely the poor little mite lived (aided and abetted by mother, needless to say) and whilst I made it quite clear to all that there was something not right with him and I was not prepared to raise him, they persisted and the poor chap remained! I was of course proved right and the little fellow turned out to be blind.  However, eventually my beautiful daughter left home to embark on her own life and I believe that my blind son did find a kindly person to live with. 

So for a brief period my life resumed it’s orderly pace with the household well organized and suited to my requirements, until yet again events, prompted by my arch enemy The Postman, overtook me!

I take the guarding of any property in which I am residing very seriously and at this particular time I was spending a happy sojorn with granny and her companions.  We were quietly passing the morning with a peaceful snooze on the sofa in front of the fire, when the dratted postman caught me napping (literally), whereupon I sprang from the sofa giving vigorous tongue expecting the usual satisfactory result of a hastily retreating postman.  This time things took a different turn. My leg twisted wretchedly and I was immediately in agony with a leg that no longer appeared to work. To give her her due, normally slow Granny reacted most promptly and I was whisked off to visit “The Vet”.  To date I had found a friendly smiley approach worked best with The Vet and I once again employed this tactic and assumed the fellow would find the cause of my difficulties and fix it with not too much difficulty.  How wrong can one be about a chap, no sooner was I through the door when I was removed from The Granny’s presence and before I knew it, was waking up minus my leg.  Who, I ask, consulted me?!!  Piecing together events from hindsight, I believe rude things were said about the strength of my legs and size of them and an inability to mend such legs.  I can tell you they are very elegant legs, nobody could ever accuse me of having cankles!  Anyway, I no longer employ the smiley tactics with The Vet and find savagery to be far more successful in deterring Mother, Granny or anyone else from taking me to visit The Vet and most satisfactory in stopping him removing any more of my limbs.

So anyway here I am, sans a back leg but perfectly fine thank you.  I agree that I am no longer as spritely as I was, but Piglet when I see him, still seems to find me a fine figure of a lady, although for some reason he no longer seems as manly.  He seems to be strangely missing something.  I have my idiotic companion Sydney (the Aussie bloke) well under control and I will admit to a sneaking liking of him when he’s not being too silly.

When my mother’s in this country I go to work with the Silly Sydney most days and enjoy the variety of organizing the office. I have many beds to choose from and a variety of laps with pleasing girls, so life is pretty good.  When the mother is away I stay with The Slow Granny, who actually suits me well these days. 

So all in all for a dog who was destined to be Crispy Fried Chihuahua, with condiments, I’ve done pretty good!