04/10/2026
MAX REPORTS: THE DAY I BECAME HEAD OF SECURITY
By Max (Chief of Security, self-appointed)
Life was perfect. We were on the shores of the Med, the sun was shining, and my only duties were lying about and looking magnificent. Then, out of the blue, the phone rang.
Lynn had to leave us and somehow "fly" home. I've never trusted this flying business. It means she goes up in the sky and I'm left with Bernie, who likes to think he's in charge.
We all know he isn't.
So I promoted myself to FIRST IN COMMAND. Security was upped immediately. I patrolled the pitch and checked the bushes. I stared suspiciously at passing seagulls, and a man in a red shirt walked past and got a very hard look. Not one predator crept up on us. I'd say that was a total success, even if I do say so myself.
Even at dusk I kept watch from the command post. Bernie called it "looking out of the window". I call it Strategic Coastal Surveillance.
Meanwhile, back in Blighty, My Human had landed at Bristol airport, where Sophie kindly collected her. Sophie then drove her all the way home to Torquay, and Princess Iris came along for the ride. Princess Iris, in a car, with no security detail. Had I been there, I'd have been in the back seat, scanning every lorry on the M5. Some of us are born to be bodyguards.
Then the diary got silly. Then came a 400-MILE ROUND TRIP.
Naturally, all that heavy responsibility wore me out. I had to rest on the big bed. Strictly for morale purposes, you understand.
Finally the day came. Bernie drove us to Marseille, and there was My Human, back safely from the sky. I nearly cried with relief. Head of Security is a heavy title for a fluffy pair of shoulders.
Lynn told me I could stand down. My pay for weeks of relentless, unblinking service? One BEEF PIZZLE.
Delicious, I'll admit. But then I remembered that Nel and Bonnie got a pizzle too, and they did NO SECURITY WORK AT ALL. They lay about in the sun like retired film stars.
Something smells fishy, and it isn't the pizzle.
I shall be having words with my union, the Workers' Organisation Of Furry Security (W.O.O.F.), Pizzle Pay Differentials Branch. I'll be demanding a fair pizzle for a fair day's patrol, plus overtime for the seagulls.
I'm off duty, but I'm never REALLY off duty.
Love and licks Max
Paw-signed and chewed, with the beef pizzle pending.
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Max the Labradoodle appoints himself Head of Security when Iris comes into season early. A funny tale from Kingscote Doodles in Devon. Expert advice from Kingscote Doodles, trusted ethical doodle breeders in Devon. 🐾
