Who is Aurel?

The short answer: a small white dog who does the housework and picks the wrong appliance every single time.

The longer answer starts somewhere else. It starts with you.

You do everything. Nobody notices.

You tidy up, and two hours later it looks exactly as it did before. You cook, and somebody asks whether there is any bread. You take out the bin, do the laundry, iron, remember somebody else's dentist appointment — and by the evening nobody has said a word. Not out of meanness. It simply did not register with anyone.

It is not a tragedy. It is just wearing, and it happens every day.

Aurel knows the feeling. With one difference: when he does it, everybody notices.

The Monday it happened

On Monday they left at seven. There was a note on the fridge with thirty things on it.

Nobody in this house knows that Aurel can read. He is a West Highland White Terrier, he lives in Switzerland, and he is not supposed to touch the washing machine. He read the note and took it for an assignment.

He got through all thirty things before anybody came home — and he did every single one of them with the wrong appliance. The bed linen went in the microwave. The socks went in the toaster. The pans went in the washing machine, and the cake came out of the tin with a drill.

Somewhere between number eleven and number twelve he went abroad for thirty-eight minutes. That was not on the note. He added that one himself.

Thirty out of thirty. At a quarter to eight. By a dog. Without a key.

Why he never looks sorry

That is the real joke, and anyone who watches him for a while notices it. Aurel never makes the face dogs make when they know they have done something. He does not look guilty. He looks focused.

He tells his stories in his own words: dignified, precise, faintly offended, and entirely certain he was right. The intentions were flawless every time. The appliance usually was not. To him those are two completely different things, and only the first one counts.

That is exactly why he makes people laugh who are normally far too tired to laugh in the evening. Aurel does what we all secretly wish we could: he simply carries on, looks good doing it, and apologises for nothing.

Why there is a book

Aurel's videos are watched over a million times a week. On TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and Pinterest you can watch him iron shirts, vacuum rugs, water flowers and peel potatoes — always in pyjamas and an apron, always with the appliance least intended for the job.

A video lasts ten seconds. A whole Monday lasts longer. The book has all of it: thirty tasks, in order, each with a time of day — and a full-page photograph of what he actually did.

How simple it is

One. Pick a format — paperback to give away, hardcover to keep.
Two. Order on Amazon, delivered as usual.
Three. Open it, laugh, pass it on.

That is all. No account, no sign-up, no newsletter.

What happens if you don't

Honestly? Nothing terrible. It will be an evening like yesterday's. And at Christmas there will be another scented candle under the tree that nobody laughed at.

The difference is small. But it is the reason this book exists.

And Book Two?

He is already working on it. He says this time he will read the instructions all the way to the end.

We do not believe a word of it.