Poor Colombian Puppies

Hi. It's me, Mary-Margaret. My mom didn't want me to know about what's happening with these poor little guys from Colombia, but I saw the picture and made her tell me. Here's the thing. It's about people and I just don't understand how they are sometimes. I figure humans have it all. They can talk, think, work, drive, they have thumbs, they can walk on two legs, and they are smart. But that's not enough for some of them. Some people have to feel happy all the time, so they take drugs, or drink, or smoke. At least, that's how I understand it. Anyway, bad people put bad stuff inside the puppies so they can sell it to stupid people. Sometimes it makes the puppies so sick they even die.

One of the reasons my mom helps me with my blog (Gosh, I hope you didn't think I typed this all by myself without thumbs, did you?) is because my life is so simple. I eat, sleep, play, try to make people happy, and explore a lot. That's it. I don't take drugs, or drink icky stuff that makes folks sick, or smoke, or be mean. I don't even think about being mean or taking advantage of people, or taking money from them (except sometimes I find some in Mom's purse and I chew it up). I don't know of any self-respecting dog that does. I don't even know any dogs who tell lies. And the only reason a dog will be mean is because his human told him to be or his human was cruel to him. And that's the truth!

Usually, I just tell you about my day and what I know of life. Today, I will tell you what I know of life is this: If people would try to behave more like us pups, they wouldn't need drugs, or drink, or smokes to make them happy. Their life would be so much nicer, and there probably wouldn't be wars, and they'd sleep better, too.