I know my family loved me, but I was just a little bit more of a time (and attention) commitment than they could handle. So today, I moved to be with a new family. I think I’m going to like it there, and I wish my family well too.
I know my family loved me, but I was just a little bit more of a time (and attention) commitment than they could handle. So today, I moved to be with a new family. I think I’m going to like it there, and I wish my family well too.
I am a killing machine. Shoes…toys…socks…they’re all mine. If the kids leave them in my reach, I have a duty to kill and devour them. So I designated an area to do just that. BFF calls it my “Killing Floor,” because he understands. Now whenever Mama or BFF sees me at the front door, they glance on the mat to see what my latest kill is. Sometimes they let me keep it (if it’s my toy), and the rest of the time they insist the child still needs it. And if it’s a paper towel or napkin, they throw it away. Can you imagine? They’d choose the garbage can over my enjoyment?!
Secrets I’m a dog. I can’t talk. Sure, I can blog, but I only blog about things Mama has already guessed. (I’m sneaky that way). There are things I haven’t let the family know, and maybe I never will. What life was like before they brought me to read more