Phew. And boo. The Commonwealth Games are over and I’m both relieved (nothing bad happened) and sad (it was all so exciting!). And I think we all in the police did brilliantly, if I say so myself.

We created at least 8 briefings per day, just in case the bosses ran out of updates to read, and the number of completely identical maps produced by so many different departments was really impressive!

And apparently there were some beat cops who had been on duty for so long without a break that they asked for a ‘comfort break’ (is that like a biscuit…?) but were told they couldn’t, so they had to just…go. In their trousers. When he heard about that, Sarge used a lot of bad words although I’m not sure why because that’s how I do it too. Without the trousers, mind.

Meanwhile, I turned 10 years old yesterday!! I knew nothing about this until Sarge gave me a dentastix (wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or offended) which was tasty. He called me Slobadog Milosevic before wiping me down. I love Sarge. He’s the best.

So now the Games and my birthday are over, I suppose I can have a nap at last. I’ll miss all the activity though, running around “sniffing and barking and marking and whiffing”, as Sarge calls it. But he calls me Good Boy too so I don’t mind.

And next month it’s the Ryder Cup! Very excited.

Next week: Otto’s top 10 songs (spoiler alert: Led Zeppelin is in the top 5, for obvious reasons)