Wait, what? Why are all these people yelling at me? Did I poop in the laundry again? I'm sure I didn't but my recall's not that good so I might have.

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So confusing for a golden retriever, these words with too many syllables. I'm best with one-syllable commands. Sit. Stay. Down. Axe. The. Tax. Drop. The. Flop.

This word they're shouting at me has six. Mul. Ti. Cul. Tur. Al. Ism. Not sure what they want me to do - sit, stand, roll over, turn right, turn left - so I'll just wag my tail and look happy. Like I always do here on the other side of comprehension. Someone will pat me on the head. Surely.

I know I'm a good boy because I've been told that all my life. Good pedigree. Aced puppy school. Came first in obedience training. And most of the time I'm loyal - except maybe that one time I smelled a treat on the kitchen bench and shouldered the poodle out of the way.

Grew up on a farm, a big farm with lots of sheep. Was taken into town in the ute. Me up front in the cabin, the dirty kelpies riding in the back. They were working dogs, I'm a lifestyle pooch, the kind you see in those country style magazines. Faithfully at the side of their masters and mistresses. Never a threat to anyone. Just want to please everyone.

And that's what makes it so unfair. Everyone's now shouting at me with big words and I've no idea what they want me to do. Multi? Mono? What on earth does it all mean? I look at them imploringly with my puppy dog eyes and they still yell.

I cop it in the dog park too. The whining red heeler and the yapping Jack Russell gang up on me all the time. The red heeler tells to me to chase the ball one way. The Jack Russell wants me to go the other way. And all the bogan staffies just ignore me. Even when I bark loudly they look the other way.

Just don't understand it. I was born to be loved. Yet I seem to be constantly in trouble.........

© Canberra Times