We don’t like these weeks. It has rained for five days. The human has continued to assault me with the Brush of Death and Squirming. We are not roaming the Horseshoe. I have not seen anyone from the Small Dog Support Group.
My curls are valiantly resisting the struggle to conform to the desires of the Brush of Death and Squirming in partnership with the rain. I aid them by breaking the trash can when the Human leaves for work at night. I spend the night doing my own roll in, eight hour treatment of broken egg shells, potato peel, and lick every piece of plastic bag clean of brown sauce. Silly, wasteful human. Don’t those look-papers in your Lie-Berry tell you to not throw out food? Smelly is the best.
We are listening to And That’s Why We Drink. I believe the human drinks for many more reasons, and cannot choose between #teamwine or #teammilkshake. On Fridays, we sometimes go with Oliver the Yorkie and his human with apple treats to a porch after Small Dog Support Group. More people come with treats for all of the gathered non-pack humans, and my human is very happy to have a boozy milkshake. I get what I want the more my human consumes boozy milkshakes. I follow the squealing for the pets from the other humans, and dance to prove my worthiness of their worship.
It is the Midterm Moon Cycle. Human is very distracted by too many look-papers. I bring her toys and chew the pages to remind her to live a good life and go outside. Again. And again. Let’s live outside, my human. Come on... Leash! Hallway! RUN TO THE DOOR, I WILL SHOW YOU THE WAY! MY HUMAN, WE LIVE OUTSIDE NOW! No, not now. I’m not leaving the steps in the rain. Inside? Play?