Jealousy.

I need to make it absolutely clear that being first doesn't make you the best. Right? I mean, look at colour television. The Americans produced their system first, but the British system had higher definition. So, well, just because Socks (who, I must stress, I haven't even met yet) was the first subject of a photo on this here blog, doesn't mean that he is in any way superior to, or even anywhere near as good as, the lovely Phoebe. Phoebe is the best dog in the world, ever. And is clearly better than all mere cats. I don't think she reads this blog, but she's been giving me looks. And, added to that, some of her many fans have been demanding to see her pictures. And I've been hearing worrying reports that Liz, dog-lover extraordinaire, thinks Socks's picture is way cool. So.

Oo! An action shot! Hollywood, here we come. Or Holywood, anyway.

Seen here with her faithful sidekick, Boris. (Boris is scared of hoovers and prams and has an irrational hatred of old English sheepdogs. He believes, despite experience, that walking out through a door and then back in again will magically cause food to appear. Oh, and he's a close personal friend of Liz.)

See? She's great.