Mama told me she thought dogs were supposed to be scavengers. I’ve quickly set the record straight. I am a carnivore through and through. I can hear the sound of a knife on a cutting board and am in the kitchen, hoping it’s chicken and that I’ll get the parts too tough for human mouths. No veggies. No fruits. Cheese is more than acceptable, but that’s it. Mama says I’m “picky.” Excuse me, but the word is “purist.”
Last week, Boy started school with his sisters. He’s learning something they call “reading.” I call it “ignoring me.” *sigh* (but seriously. What does Charlie the Ranch Dog have that I don’t??)
First I take a nap on the right side of the couch. Then I wake up, lick myself for awhile, and wonder why I’m lying on this spot. This side is wet!! Disgusted, I go to the other side of the couch to resume my nap.
My sweet family bought me a bed. I’m really not sure why. My bed is the couch. I’m happy there. But whenever I curl up on the little bed, they applaud. I use it at least once a day, just because it obviously makes them so happy!
Walks are very important. If the family has eaten breakfast, I subtly try to get their attention so I can have my walk. I’ll walk over to where my leash is, look at it, look back at whoever can see me, and back up again. If that doesn’t work, I’ll ask. My speech is highly developed for a canine, but they pretend they don’t understand. So then I jump. I try to reach the leash by myself. That will convince them! And you know what? It usually does! Next thing I know, they’re all putting shoes on and taking me out for my walk. My favorite part of being awake: looking for squirrels, chatting with the neighbor dogs, finding new grass to mark, and being with my peeps.