Observations of a canine Princess exiled in Omaha, Nebraska with her human pets. Life has become one long series of drinks, smokes and talking on the telephone all day.
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They've got my costume all wrong--I am a Royal Princess! --not Princess Leia from Star Wars or Star Trek or whatever. I guess it's too late to change now, and I do look kind of smart in this wig.
That postman seems to be walking right past without stopping to deliver my invitation to tea with the Duke and Duchess. He is a damn fool, and I'll have a good bark at him next time he tries to walk past my window.
My Word! What is one supposed to watch on Saturday Night? HGTV? As I was saying to Prince Philip just the other day, "Why don't they re-play that splendid film, Puppies in Paris, again?" That was a jolly good show!