Mom said that I could do a post and so I want to share with you how mean she can be sometimes.
You see I love sticks. Like, I REALLY love sticks.
|mom's friend, Cynthia throwing a stick for me.|
I mean, really. I'm a dog. What does careful even mean?
|careful is for sissies.|
But Dad went and bought this stick that is 'safe'.
|I love my new stick.|
Mom shrugged and said 'that won't last'. And then she made it that I could only have it when we went on our walks. That made me really want the stick. I was a dog obsessed.
Today I had my chance. I managed to work my big brown eyes and convince mom to let me have it when she went out to do 'barn chores'. Now I don't really understand the point of 'barn chores'. Mostly it seems to me to be all about moving horse poo from one place to another. But it gets me outside and it seems to make her happy.
I was so happy to have my stick and I showed my love in the traditional way of chewing.
But I might have gone too far though and she took it away from me and put it on her green machine.
|um, what just happened?|
I tried the big brown eyes. They usually make her melt.
|pleeease, I'll be good. I promise. Just look at my face. |
(you can see my sick by the big wheel)
|but but but that's my stick|
I tried to get Ripley's help. She's pretty good at stealing stuff, I figured she could get it for me.
|hmm, she put it up here?|
yes! Quick get it for me
It was worth it to me.
|Ripley going back to hunting stupid squirrels.|
|so close and yet so far|
I had to give up. Mom was being really really unreasonable about it.
Fortunately I live in the land of sticks.
Which just goes to show that you can't keep a good dog down.
Not for long anyway.