Keogh the cat : it's a dog's life

I'd make a great guide cat, as long as the blind person I was responsible for liked sleeping 19 hours a day and was really into hanging around bins.

I can't guarantee I'd take my owner where he or she wanted to go. But, hey, after a week with me, they'd be mustard at climbing trees.

I could detect drugs, too - as long as they smelt strongly of fish. Anyone trying to smuggle drugs into the country inside a mouse, wouldn't last five minutes.

My mate, Chalkie, reckons dogs who 'sniff' out drugs eventually become hooked on the stuff - sort of cocanine addicts or pot poodles.

You can tell junkie mutts a mile off - there are bags under their eyes and their noses run.
I reckon the bloodhound round the corner desperately needs rehab.

But no, it's a dog's world out there. Ask any Jobcentre why and they'll tell you it's all down to obedience.

A dog, they say, is man's best friend.

I don't want to be my man's best friend because we've got nothing in common. I don't shave, can't drink five pints a night and you'll never get me in that bath.

According to humans, dogs are more intelligent because they retrieve sticks, no questions asked.

If they were that intelligent they'd ask themselves why a chap who has just thrown a piece of wood away wants it back urgently. Also, what he intends to do with it.

My man once ordered me to sit. I did - on the keyboard of the computer he was working on. He ordered me to 'heel', so I bit his heel.

I'd make a great guard cat, as long as burglars didn't open a tin of cat food - or bring a dog with them.

The jobs just aren't out there.

I could become a professional mouse-catcher, but that's mixing business with pleasure.

Chalkie reckons I should stick to the things I do best - search for food, eat, sleep and annoy people.

He's right. I'm a natural-born restaurant reviewer.

Move over Lorne Jackson.