Everyone has their little vices, I guess. Mine are wastebaskets, shoes and underwear. Sometimes, when I get bored at work, I start checking out the wastebaskets. Today, there was a SlimFast snack bar wrapper that just smelled soooooo good I had to have it. So I'd fish it out, and Mom would put it back. I'd fish it out again, and Mom would snatch it from me and really stomp it down inside the wastebasket again. And then I'd get it AGAIN. Well, need I say more? That went on for about an hour. She says she'd put the basket up on her desk if she thought no one would see them, but we had clients all day.
Which brings me to shoes. (sniff sniff) I just LOVE shoes. Mostly the ones with laces, but any old shoe will do in a pinch. I'd make a great detective. I sniff and snuffle all over and I can tell lots of things about people, like if they have dogs or cats, if they have kids.....where they walk, if they stepped in anything odiferous. You know. I don't chew so much on them anymore because I am grown up, but I don't think I'll ever get tired of sniffing.
And then there's Mom's undies. She puts her laundry in a basket in her closet and shuts the door. Like...I'm not stupid or anything. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to open a sliding closet door (duh!). So she shuts it and thinks I can't get in. HEE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! This morning, not only did I OPEN it, but after I squiggled inside, I closed it almost the whole way. I probably could have stayed there all day except for a pair of her undies sticking out the door. Drat! Foiled again!! Next time, I'll be more careful.
G'night everyone. I don't mean to be rude, but Animal Planet has some good stuff on right now and it's past my bed time.
Love, Mary-Margaret
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2 comments:
Mary-Margaret HELP!!!
Rally the troops, I think Mum is trying to finish me off. Yesterday, she took me out for a 45 minute marathon walk and this morning, I can barely move and Dad had to carry me down the stairs so that I could go out to do my business. Somehow I just don't think Mum understands that for every step she takes, I have to take about 4 (not that I've really counted). Actually now that I come to think about it, it's more like 4 x 4 because I have 4 legs!! Maybe Dad is right about Mum not being too good at math, he's always going on about the check book never balancing or something.
Anyway, I'm working on the guilt trip with Mum right now, I'm just laying on her bed looking quite pathetic - maybe there will be some extra treats in it for me, what do you think?
To be quite honest with you, Mum is actually worried about me, she's not really sure this is all about our marathon yesterday so she's going to keep a close eye on me today. I know she will take me to see my doctor if I don't get better.
Love,
Your pooped puppy pal
Sarabi
Dear Sarabi -
I asked Mom about you getting so "pooped" (sorry...am having a silly thought. You and I have a lot in common except you are "pooped puppy" and I am "puppy pooped" {remember Easter morning?}...[ahem] ...couldn't resist that pun)...er...moving right along...
Anyway, she says my Aunt Rose hated ...er..."strongly disliked" taking walks. She just found them to be a waste of her valuable time. She'd MUCH rather guard the house or patrol the back yard and ward off cats.
So..here's what she did. She'd walk about 100 feet and then sit down hard. She absolutely would NOT get up, and Mom would have to carry her the rest of the walk or go home. Either was fine with Rose Anne. You could try that??
BTW, my cousin Cailin says that I shouldn't use the word "hate" and that I should say "strongly dislike" in it's place. She learned that from her other Grandma and Grandpa, Pat and Joe. I think I'm going to follow their advice, too!
I hope you feel better soon. Is your mum taking you to the "dogtor"?
Love, Mary-Margaret
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