I love tearing up newspapers. Daddy took a piece of the cellophane which wrapped up one of the magazines, scrunched it as tight as could and put it on the floor and I immediately pounced on it. However, to my astonishment it had a life of its own and started expanding which gave me a considerable fright, I barked at it and ran away.
Mummy bought me a new toy which is made of red rubber and is sort of in the shape of a beehive. The hole in the centre is just big enough to get her finger in and into it she put some peanut butter and threw it on the floor. I immediately pounced on it but then was struck by this very potent smell, which was delightful. I chewed it and chewed it and ran backwards and forwards and eventually got out some of the peanut butter which I also found incredibly enjoyable.
When Daddy comes home at night he often takes the rubber beehive throws it across the kitchen where it bounces off the door and I rush across, pick it up and rush back to my basket. Daddy then leans down, snatches it out of my mouth and throws it over the room again and so we repeat this game quite a number of times. I enjoy playing with it very much, especially when it has peanut butter inside it.
Daddy reads an awful lot of newspapers, The Press and Journal, The Telegraph, The Daily Mail and their Sunday editions. When he’s finished with them he sometimes tears out pages, scrunches them into a ball and throws them across the study and I rush after them and rip them to shreds. The other night he was clearing away a great deal of articles which he had previously ripped out of the papers and I had a fantastic time of chewing them all up. When he came back into the room and saw the floor littered with bits of newspapers he said, “did you chew these up Humphrey?” I looked at him with an innocent expression on my face, forgetting however that I had a piece of newspaper sticking to my lips.