Sleeping with Poodles
By wishonawhitehorse on May 17, 2012
I’m a poodle--born on the 18th of July, and almost 6 years old. I’ve decided to jog with the rest of the joggers. What’s that? Mom said to BLOG not jog. Darn and she said my butt looks cute when I jog.
Oh well, I spend most of my time sleeping anyway, except when I know Mom is going out in the car—I love going in the car—car yes, airplanes no. Airplanes suck—you have to ride in one of those horrible cramped plastic carriers and get stuffed into the baggage department. Not a proper way to treat a lady to my way of thinking. I get left behind from the car sometimes—that sucks too. It gets hot where we live, and when it does the people in this house say the car gets too hot for puppies. A puppy? I’m almost six years old, what-a-mean a puppy! And the car always feels great to me. But I know my parents wouldn’t lie, so I have to go along with the program.
Things that don’t suck:
Toys that squeak.
Sunshine on the grass and me sniffing through it, getting my nose wet, and having a ladybug land on it.
Lying on my belly on the cool cement.
Getting a belly rub.
Eating tidbits of cat food--the wet kind, not that gaggy stick-in-the-throat dry stuff. The people only give me a taste, and I think that is why people give out samples, it just sets you up wanting more…
Did I mention chasing lizards? I love chasing rabbits, too, and squirrels. Squirrels are the best, except they tease and then jump into a hole—not fair. I even know the places where they live like beside our driveway, and at the park, and beside El Torito in Eugene Oregon. I get so excited I begin to bark just when we drive up. I can’t help it. The joy just pushes the yap out of me.
To many joyful yaps!
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