It can be very frustrating, being a dog, especially when your mom starts a blog about dogs.
I mean what does she know anyhow.
The problem is she has so many things going on she doesn't have time to write and when she writes, her writing cuts into "our time" which mean no excercise, which means grumpy Moondoggie. So I decided it was in "our" best interest that I lend a paw.
The problem for me is my thumbs—I don’t have any. So I secretly found this other human who was willing to write this column for me, let’s just call her Rachael. Rachael and I have been friends for a long time. Sometimes I need a human to talk to, because they can give me insight into my own human.
I call my human “mom”. I get a lot of slack for this from my friends, but I do it out of respect. She thinks of herself as my mom so I just go with it. Besides I don’t really care what other dogs think. I don’t really like dogs. I have a couple of really close friends but that’s about it.
Most dogs are lazy and they eat too much. I know I sound judgmental, but, you see, It’s in my blood. I’m a herding dog. I believe in working hard and playing hard. I believe in lots of exercise and eating only when you need to.
I consider myself lucky. My mom found me in that place some refer to as the pound. The humans in the pound told my mom that I was “unadoptable.” To this day that really makes me angry. Hey, yeah, I got a little grumpy with some of the humans, but come on, let’s look at the facts.
I was lost. I was minding my own business trying to find my way. When some pycho in a weird uniform and a pole with a noose at the end trys to put it around my neck. Oh Good Dog, what would YOU do? Step up, loop the noose around your own neck and jump in the back of the truck with all the other mongrels and their feces?
Yeah, I might have had a bad attitude.
On top of the whole noose thing, I was taken to this pound place and put in a cage. Me. In a cage! Don’t they know I have a job? Well all that is behind me. Now my job is to help my mom with her silly “Dog” blog.
Thank Dog my mom busted me out and took me to her house.
She was supposed to help me to feel better about myself and then when I felt better I could be adopted by another family. It took me a while but I finally started to feel better. My mom started to like me, so I took a little longer in my “rehabilitation” and sure enough, when it came time, she couldn’t give me up.
Humans are such pushovers.
Moondoggie, you are absolutely right!!!
Posted by: Sanjna KUlkarni | 08/27/2011 at 03:31 PM
Yup, we are pushovers Sanjna.
Posted by: chigiy | 08/27/2011 at 11:10 PM