Woof! (Pant, pant, pant.) It’s me, Annie. That nice lady that cleans out my kennel and waters me every morning is letting me write this entry. Hee, hee!
What to write? What to write? (Pant, pant.) I have to say that this internet socializing stinks. Or doesn’t stink, is the problem. How am I supposed to get a feel for you, the reader, if I can’t smell you? Or lick you? Or try jumping on you? (My master doesn’t like it when I jump on people, but if you don’t act like it bothers you, I’m all for it!)
My master and I took a walk this morning. It seemed early. Maybe she woke up with a headache, took two Excedrin and couldn’t go back to sleep. I don’t really care what her reasons were for walking early, I was just happy to get out! I love walking with my master. And running alongside her when she rides her bike. And playing catch with her. And playing tug with her. And wrestling with her. Would you like to wrestle with me? I’d be nice. Promise.
There were many good smells this morning. The pee and poop that other neighborhood dogs deposited. (I made some pee markings of my own). A dead robin. A discarded burger wrapper. A cute little puppy let me sniff her. And play with her. I was extra nice ‘cause she was small. We stopped in at Chip and Grandpa’s house. Chip smelled the same as usual – pretty strong. I also sniffed Grandpa’s newest horse. His nose had tickly little hairs on it, but his breath didn’t stink. Smelled like alfalfa. Boy did I wish my master would let me off the leash so I could go roll in some horse manure. It’s the best!
Nugent barked as we jogged by on our way home. My master said, “Hi!” I wagged my tail. I have a nice tail. Sometimes I chase it. I’ve even caught it a time or two. (Pant, pant.) We met Marty and Glen Israelsen too. Their hands smelled like gasoline. I guess they’d been filling a chain saw with fuel. There weren’t many cats out and about this morning. Dang. I like cats. But they don’t seem to like me. They get all puffy and hissy when I introduce myself and want to play with them. Why do you think that is? I’m nice enough, aren’t I?
All too soon our walk was over. I went into my kennel just like my master likes and waited for her to take off the pinch collar. (The pinch collar isn’t as bad as it sounds. It’s just harder for me to really pull on the leash when I wear it, but that’s okay. Pulling is overrated.) She put my regular collar back on my neck, and I drank some water. Aaah! There’s no place like home.
Christie’s Present Pleasures (from our walk this morning):
The squeaky wings of a pair of Mallard ducks as they flew over us
A Mourning Dove’s sad call
The strut of a beautiful ring-neck pheasant
The tippity-tap of a flicker hammering on a tree somewhere
The soft under belly of M.J., the cute Border Collie puppy we met