The Chop

Well, TFD won't be the dog he used to be after tomorrow. Mrs Alf is taking him to the vet's to have his bollox chopped off. I can't help feeling queasy and a little sorry for the parasitic little shi...poor thing. It might well help calm him down around the house, but just the thought of it makes me want to cross my legs in sympathy. I'm more worried about the looks Mrs Alf will start giving me when I misbehave around the house. She might think it will make her life easier if she gets us both done at the same time.