With my touching story of how I got to this place done, it’s time to get to the ‘portant stuff. As I pound away on this pink, plastic toy computer the neighbor’s kid left on our lawn, the humans are outside dumping some sort of poo on the flowers, so now’s my chance, and I’m takin it like the last cookie.
Speaking of cookies, they hide them! They keep them in the cubby up high, and I am beginning to think it’s on purpose. They know I can’t reach up there. Report them. This cannot stand, and neither can I, or at least not high enough to grab the handles. I bribed my Chihuahua brother Jax to jump as high as he could, and even he could not reach. It’s an outrage, and I’m guessing it’s illegal to conceal cookies, so please send a message to the umm..ASP..er the AC..to the ones who make laws for furry citizens! Tell them this can’t go on. It is both cruel and usual!
Also, if any of you know “Lawyer Dog” from the internets, please have him call me because I’m pretty sure I have a strong case against the company that makes dog beds. I was minding my own little business the other day, and it just exploded. White, fluffy stuff everywhere! I’m probably lucky I didn’t lose my tail. As if that wasn’t traumatic enough, the Grandma human didn’t belieeef me! She scolded me for making a mess and told me I was a “Little booger”. I’m innocent! Innocent! How many more innocent dogs will be framed before the truth is told? There is clearly some major defect that is causing dog beds to spontaneously burst. I’ve seen it all over the Facebooks.
….Jax is interrupting me because he wants to post a message, too. Fine…
Hellloooo Ladiiies! I’m Jax. Super-single and totally neutered. Hit me up on Snapchat if you want to cruise the dog park sometime. Muah!
…..*Sigh*. The vet should check again, cause that boy is out of control. Anyway, I forget what I was ranting about, but it probably had something to do with cookies. I love cookies. Mom says I’m addicted and Grandma called me “porky”, but I don’t care. I love cookies and they love me. My favorite are the pumpkin ones from a special company that delivers my food every month. I forget what it’s called, but I can ask Mom if you want.
Until next ramble, stay faboolous.