Happy birthday to me, me, me.

I was so excited. We were going to a birthday party. My birthday party because my birthday is May 24 in two days' time. (Remember for next year - gifts, visits, play dates, well wishes happily accepted.)

The party was at Bertie's house. So we trotted off down the road and across the park. Even the Gods were celebrating my birthday. It was a gorgeous sunny day, bright blue sky, not much wind, laughter and happiness in the air. I was wearing a blue silk bow. Perfect for a Birthday Boy, I thought. That's how everyone will know I am the centre of attention.

We arrived at Bertie's. I made a grand entrance running up to Bertie with my blue silk bow flourishing behind me. Everyone laughed and said "hello" and patted me. No one said "happy birthday" which I thought was a bit strange, but I thought they were saving their happy birthdays for the cutting of the cake.

Bertie and I played and tumbled and made a bit of a bit of a nuisance of ourselves which is so much fun. The humans sat around the table and ate sausage rolls, party pies, fairy bread runny cheese (my favorite) and chicken triangle sandwiches and cucumber finger sandwiches. (Tip: always cut crusts of triangle and finger sandwiches.)

They didn't offer any to Bertie and me. Hmmmph. It was my birthday party. I wanted to eat sausage rolls and runny cheese.

Everything was pink. Bertie's mum was wearing pink, balloons were pink. Pink, pink, pink. Oh, well, I thought in this era of gender neutrality, pink is just as good as blue for an Alpha-male Westie.

Then out came the birthday cake. More pink. With an icing tiara. And pink macaron hearts. At least there were some blue-ish flowers. And MATILDA was written on the tiara. And a ditzy looking girl with a frou-frou skirt and fluff-fluff boa. Why is Matilda on my birthday cake and that weird girl, I wondered. Maybe she is going to feed me cake.

Matilda is Bertie's cousin. She's gorgeous especially when she smiles and she is now four years old.

Everyone gathered around the table including Bertie and I. We sang and barked. Happy birthday to Matilda. But, but, but it's my birthday party, I barked. They told me to be quiet.

They were celebrating Matilda's birthday. And not mine! I was being ignored. Bertie was being ignored. And his birthday is two days after mine.

I was not happy. On the way home, I asked my human mum about the pink and the ditzy girl in the frou frou skirt. She said it was a Fancy Nancy party. Who the hell is Fancy Nancy? I want a Fancy Lochy birthday party next year. No pink, please.