Monday, September 5, 2011

Letter from Junior (our adorable pug)

NOTE- This letter was found tucked away secretly under his bed, and he has gone into hiding since its discovery. No details of the letter have been confirmed, and as always, consider the source of your information………



A dog’s life, grrrrrr. Bout time somebody starts listenin’ to me for a change. Hey lady, who do you think sees everything that goes on around this place? I mean, I sit at the door, when I’m not resting, and I see everything. I run off the postman, the power guy, and anybody else that tries to mark our territory. Does anybody thank me? All I get is a hard time. I keep your new Japanese maples watered, and you complain. You want well water? Do it yourself. Go ahead, unwrap the hose and do it yourself. I could be doing a thousand other things, like sleeping, and instead I help with the yardwork. Another thing- no more wisecracks about my butt dragging the ground. If you were this short, you wouldn’t do any better. And another thing, if you saw what I see from down here, your eyes would bug out too. Enough already.

Here’s the deal. No more cardboard dog “biscuits.” Beef jerky, and I mean the real stuff, and Slim Jims. It’s gotta be something that used to breathe or I don’t want it. And no locking me outside when I have company. I mean, if they don’t want me jumping on them, they would stay at home, don’t ya think? And another thing- the sofa is all mine. You leave, it’s mine. You leave the room, same thing. You don’t like it, move. I have already marked the yard anyway, so guess whose place it is? As long as somebody leaves me some food and water out, I don’t need you anyway.

Oh yeah- the heater. Keep your legs out of the way. You say I need my beauty sleep, so give me some space. Lots of space. Like leave the room and don’t come back ‘til you can be sweet. After all, who else could bring you this much happiness? The good times? Honestly, sometimes I think you forget who’s the pet.

I almost forgot. If I want to pee in the garage, so be it. Let it dry baby, you won’t even know it was there. Come rain or shine, the garage is mine. What’s with you people? You always want me in the yard. I guess you want me to get fleas, huh? And no more baths. If I want to get wet, I know where the creek is. You put that stuff on me that makes me itch. Go away, bad dream. I’m ready for some changes, and I’m not to sure you’re part of them. Now get me some fresh water. Please……..

2 comments:

  1. Poor Junior...he needs his rump scratched and a nice piece of steak. My Dustin is a spoiled little stinkerpot who needs to be reminded ever so often that he is indeed not the owner of the house he lives in, lol. Dogs are wonderful for keeping things a little crazy. Pugs are so adorable, so I bet Junior gets away with murder at times. Looked back through many of your older posts. Very nice. Love the photos when you include them.

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  2. Junior always got his way. Thanks for the comments-

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