I Tried to Be Helpful!

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Humans are super annoying sometimes, Fam.

So, Grandma had a doctor’s appointment earlier this morning, and I was bored so I wanted her to take me with her. She sailed right in with her blah blah about health code violations, and dogs not being allowed there.

I sighed, like I always do when they say stupid things to me as if I were just some ordinary dog, and waddled into the room where I keep all of my clothes for dressing in hag. For those of you who don’t know, this is when a dog dresses in human clothes as a sort of disguise.

Anyway, it’s been less than hot enough to cook a cat lately here, so I decided to go with a Fall look. I chose a sassy little pink sweater, and a fuzzy purse with a dog on it, but I couldn’t find any skirts that still fit me after that last trip to the Chinese buffet. I figured that was good enough, and completed my ensemble with some cute little sunglasses I swiped from some random baby at the park and returned to Grandma all ready to roll.

The drive there was nice. Through the lowered window, I could smell curly fries probably at least three different times, and Grandma was easy on the brakes for once, so I didn’t slide around like a drunken seal. (She’s really lucky I don’t suffer from car sickness like Jax or her cupholders would runneth over.)

So, we get there, and I climb onto a chair and look through one of those human magazines that is really nothing but ads, recipes and more recipes. I love that magazine. I tore out a few pages and stuffed them into my purse to show Mom later. The wait was kind of dragging, so I stared at the other humans waiting around trying to guess their ailments. It’s a fun game to play in doctor’s office waiting rooms. You should totally try it. I think I spotted two cases of Ebola and one raging inferno of hemorrhoids if that man’s donut cushion was a clue.

Finally, the nurse lady came out and called Grandma’s name, so I hopped down and waddled down the hall with her and into the room where they do things to you. The nurse sat her down and did a few things with some kind of inflatable gadget, then she pulled out an instrument I am too familiar with. The thermometer.

It was then that I rummaged through my purse until I found the small tub of Vaseline I’d packed for just this event. Helpfully, I nudged it toward Grandma, and glanced pointedly to the thermometer. Her face turned red, and she began to smell of turnips as she always does when she gets upset. The nurse lady’s mouth opened briefly, then closed, and she quickly turned away while seeming to tremble. She might have been crying. No one likes the thermometer.

Grandma put my little gift into her own purse where I couldn’t get it again, and the ride home was all awkward silence. She didn’t even turn on the radio, but given her taste in music, this was not the punishment she probably imagined it would be. I was far more aware of her spite when she drove right past my favorite chicken nugget place without so much as a glance. That vengeful shrew.

I was only thinking of her, wishing to spare her the cold rod of doom in her butt, and this is how she thanks me?? I better make sure Mom is the one to take me to my next doctor appointment, because I don’t trust this woman not to tell them I swallowed socks!

No good deed goes unpunished, guys. Do them anyway, but just know humans have no gratitude sometimes.

I’m going to go terrorize Mom until she takes me out for nuggets, so see you next time the neighbor kid forgets her Barbie computer in the yard!

Stay faboolous,

 

Shiloh

 

 

Brush Fires/Cookie Crisis

It’s Shiloh again. Sorry that I went a moment without writing in my blog, but I couldn’t find the pink Barbie typowriter that I use.  I know I spelled that wrong. Barbie machines don’t have that feature Mom’s phone has that corrects your spellin.

Anyway, we live not far from a city called Glendale, and we’re out in the hills so when the hills catch fire, it’s pretty scarifying. I was nervous for days because I smelled smoke and felt it sting my little eyes. Mommy and Grandma were acting normally, but a dog knows when the humans are hiding something. We have super spidey senses, but for dogs..not spiders.

When Mom was sleeping, I jumped on her phone and stalked her on Facebook like I do, and saw some videos and photos she’d taken of the fire, so that confirmed my suspicion. A fire was coming for my cookies! Perhaps, but no..I can’t even think of it..my squeaky toys! Possibly my brothers and sisters as well, but…but..my squeakies, though!

Safety first, so I took them all and hid them under a blanket where no fire could ever find them, then I slept on top of them for days. I mean, I got up to eat and to poop but I guarded them whenever convenient. The hills near our house kept burning and going out only to burn some more, then go out again. The humans in yellow pants have a building right behind our house so I could watch them coming and going. They came and went a lot, but now I don’t smell so much smoke anymore and the air isn’t stinging my eyes. Whatever they did out there, it seemed to work.

We still need some rain though. If you know anyone with some extra rain, can you ask them to send it over here to us? Also, the fire took my cookies. I know it did. As is my usual morning, afternoon and evening routine, I went to the cubby and barked. A lot. This is when a human will always open it for me and hand over the cookies just to shush me up. Now, the humans say something I’ve never understood before. “It’s all gone, Shiloh. There’s no more.” What?? I understand everything in humanese except for “no” and “all gone”. What does that even mean? Let me know if you know.

My theory is that the fire snuck into the room where the cookies are kept, slithered into the cubby, stole them, and ran away. I have no proof, so it’s alleged. Allegedly..the fire is a thief of the worst sort.

To make up for my lack of cookies, I’ve been stalking Mom like a total stalker whenever she’s in the kitchen doing things with food. I did it so much, she caught it on camera because she thinks I’m cute. I’m not though, I’m upset! The cookie withdrawals are real and she needs to fix it soon or I will lose my fuzzy little mind!

I hope everyone near the fire is safe and full of cookies, but I’m not out of those woods yet. My organic pumpkin cookies are life. Without them, I am but a husk. An empty shell..oh. I think Mom bought more.

Gotta go, Guys!

Love,

Shiloh

Cookie Negotiations