By Pocket
I don’t know what has happened. For the past week Mommy, Daddy and Foley have been hogging the computer. They have been barking loudly, typing furiously, and even barking cuss words when the ‘puter ain’t acting right. Finally today the three of them all curled up on the floor to sleep and I got on the ‘puter and I couldn’t get on Doggyspace. And you know why? ‘Cause of something Foley did: Now is that fair? First I have to put up with her twittering her gas under the covers at night and I have to come up gasping for air like a coal miner emerging after the canary just died, and now she cut me off from my friends.
And worse than that my Mommy and Daddy were talking last night and they said the dreaded “T” word: Trainer. Why oh why would I need a trainer? The incessant barking? Nah! The squeaking like a squirrel stuck in a bear trap whenever someone comes home? Nah! The peeing on the floor? Nah! The crapping on the floor? Well maybe.
But they are going to try to make me calm and dismissive and no one should ever be either. Was David calm and submissive when fronted by Goliath? I say no. Were the English in the face of the Blitz? I say no. Were those who fought for civil rights? I say no. Did any of them think it was OK just to pee and crap where they stood? Ummm….
So I am going to talk with Mommy and Daddy and tell them I don’t need a trainer. I am not going to do any of those annoying things or pee or poo on the floor ever again.
Ever.
Hey what’s the wet and warm stuff I’m lying in? Oh crap. Really. About a foot from the door there’s crap. Smells like mine. OK so I am going to start not peeing and crapping on the floor right now!
Uh-oh.
I don’t know what has happened. For the past week Mommy, Daddy and Foley have been hogging the computer. They have been barking loudly, typing furiously, and even barking cuss words when the ‘puter ain’t acting right. Finally today the three of them all curled up on the floor to sleep and I got on the ‘puter and I couldn’t get on Doggyspace. And you know why? ‘Cause of something Foley did: Now is that fair? First I have to put up with her twittering her gas under the covers at night and I have to come up gasping for air like a coal miner emerging after the canary just died, and now she cut me off from my friends.
And worse than that my Mommy and Daddy were talking last night and they said the dreaded “T” word: Trainer. Why oh why would I need a trainer? The incessant barking? Nah! The squeaking like a squirrel stuck in a bear trap whenever someone comes home? Nah! The peeing on the floor? Nah! The crapping on the floor? Well maybe.
But they are going to try to make me calm and dismissive and no one should ever be either. Was David calm and submissive when fronted by Goliath? I say no. Were the English in the face of the Blitz? I say no. Were those who fought for civil rights? I say no. Did any of them think it was OK just to pee and crap where they stood? Ummm….
So I am going to talk with Mommy and Daddy and tell them I don’t need a trainer. I am not going to do any of those annoying things or pee or poo on the floor ever again.
Ever.
Hey what’s the wet and warm stuff I’m lying in? Oh crap. Really. About a foot from the door there’s crap. Smells like mine. OK so I am going to start not peeing and crapping on the floor right now!
Uh-oh.
