My pet: Abbie is set for a date with the Queen

My visit to the Suffolk Dog Day this year nearly ended in a fight.

I had to be restrained as my emotions got the better of me, because you see I lost. Again. This was the second year in succession when I left Helmingham Hall with my tail between my legs.

Margot the dalmatian from Milden was sure I would win in the Prettiest Female and Best Rescue Dog categories. But no. I was rejected, discarded, written off and pushed away. My reputation gone, a shadow cast over me. I may take up Frank the labrador from Leiston’s advice and eat, a lot.

Matt, my human person, was summoned immediately to phone Pedigree and order 20 boxes of treats to be sent via same-day delivery. He said I should go on more walkies (although he never takes me) to lift my mood. Instead I have been bathing in a sea of pork-flavoured goodies.

My waist is expanding, my clothes are unwashed (perhaps this is how Frank feels). I tried to phone the RSPCA but they were engaged.

I thought life couldn’t get any worse but then a letter hit my kennel mat. Written in golden ink and wrapped in red lace. I was intrigued. I pawed and nosed the envelope but didn’t get very far, so I called Matt over.

The Queen had invited me to Buckingham Palace for her own dog show! My mood rocketed and I quickly searched for the quickest dog diet to get into shape. The date has been set for September, so I don’t have much time. I’ve booked myself in for all the treatments. I cannot lose!

In other news: I have been taken to task for having chased a hare, but more on that next week.

As told to Matt Hunter