Mama gets so excited when it’s the weekend.
I like them too, because it means BFF spends more time with me, instead of in the No Room “working.” (whatever that word means)
But sometimes the weekend means the family heads out for hours instead, leaving me to fend for myself.
I’m a good boy. I scare away the neighborhood squirrels and cats, and I greet all the dogs walking on the sidewalk behind the property.
They could take me with them more often, though. Like when they go to the beach. I love the beach! The seagulls!!! But I threw up in the car last time, and since they just bought a new one, they don’t seem to trust that I won’t do it again.
They might be right. I don’t tell my stomach when to be upset.
So they leave me home for their most exciting outings.
I think I understand the phrase “it’s a dog’s life” now. I used to think it should mean “life is perfect,” but I think it means “Mama won’t take me to the beach.”