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Why I love mud - by Southwold lurcher Worzel

PUBLISHED: 13:36 16 February 2016 | UPDATED: 13:36 16 February 2016

Images for Lowestoft Journal Worzel Wooface column. Picture by Chantal Bourgonje

Images for Lowestoft Journal Worzel Wooface column. Picture by Chantal Bourgonje

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In his latest column for The Journal, Southwold lurcher WORZEL writes about why he loves the mud...

I love Mud. Mud is wot you get when you mix rain and me.

I seem to be a mud magnet. I can collect it wherever I go. And it sticks to me much betterer than it sticks to hoomans. Even when me and Mum go on the same walk on the same bit of countryside, I come back covered in mud and Mum doesn’t. Unless of course, I do forgetting to look where I’m going and barge into Mum at 40 miles per hour. Then she makes mud almost as well as I do. And a lot more squeals.

All the rain we’ve been having recently has made it very much easier for me to collect mud. Mum says that some dogs are trained to stand on a towel and have their feets wiped down before they is allowed into the house. I are not one of those dogs.

I are one of those dogs that is trained to make a swift and cunning sprint up the stairs and onto Mum’s bed. I generally use the time Mum is trying to unsuction her wellies from her feet to make my move.

She is very rubbish at running up the stairs when one wellie is off and her other foot is stuck half in and half out of the wellie and the foot bit is flapping about like a dead fish. Then all she can do is hope someboddedy else is upstairs when she frantically yells make-sure-my-door-is shut and don’t-let-that-dog-on-my-blinking-bed-again.

I fink this is very quite actual unfair. Beds is perfick for getting mud off me. I don’t know why people’s bother with the towel fing. Duvet’s are much, much betterer and it doesn’t leave that much mess. It really doesn’t show up nearly as much on the duvet as it does on me.

Apparently this is all unacceptababble. I are not allowed to go upstairs with my muddy magnet body anymore and all the bedroom doors are getting shut like some military hoperation before we even leave the house.

And Mum is trying to get me to do standing on a towel in the kitchen to get rid of the worst of the mud before I spread it everywhere but it’s not going very well. The towel is rubbish. But it’s all very ok... turns out the sofa is almost as good as the bed.


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