Dear All (especially Sharon and Alon)

Herewith my seasonal round-robin to all my friends, fans, and other odds and sods around the world who can’t wait to hear how full and rich my life has been this year – especially if it’s been fuller and richer than theirs.

January saw me chasing squirrels and getting regular walks up the hill. (So did February, as it happens, and all the other months. So that will do for the travelogue.)

You will be thrilled to hear I have no offspring (not barking likely!) therefore there is no riveting news of the little darlings getting fifteen GCSEs or reading Shakespeare’s complete works on their fourth birthday or singing Rule Britannia while sucking their dummies. No one I know split the atom or discovered a cure for the common cold. Nevertheless, I remain triumphantly smug and wonderful in myself.

I haven’t had a new bathroom installed in my basket or remodelled the garden. As far as I know, no neighbouring dog has run off with the local poodle. I keep an orderly street round here – or else! (Don't be fooled by the hat.)

I have not been promoted to Managing Director (though I am not without influence in these parts) but I remain sleeker and healthier and more beautiful than if I had. I decided against the England job so as not to disappoint Capello.

I will not spare my blushes in telling you that I am cleverer, get more biscuits, sniff more corners, and receive more pats than anybody I know and that includes you, whoever you are. So there.

I close by wishing you personally my personal Season’s Greetings, whatever your name is and however you happen to have got yourself on my list.

A barking good 2008 to you all.

(And much love to Sharon and Alon. Lick lick lick)

Simba