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!