Kristine Joy, Writer

From the rambling brain of a 5 year old pug named Scout…..

I can’t believe she dares leave me for more than 2 hours at a time. Have I not proven my loyalty and commitment to her. When I hear the garage door, I run to the front door with such force that I slide into it every flippin’ time. I then follow her around as if she smells like roses when the reality is otherwise. I even sit on the rug when she uses the toilet and that definitely doesn’t smell like roses. Why do humans get fancy toilets and we get grass—that often has a foot of snow on top of it? She spends hours shoveling the driveway and sidewalks—for other dogs, mind you—but can’t shovel me a simple path for my business? And sometimes, she has the audacity to go in the backyard, MY backyard, and make me stay in the house. Can’t she hear me whimpering and pawing at the window? Maybe not over that wretched thing she pushes around that makes more noise than my big sisters. Oh, and she probably thinks that I don’t notice that I ALWAYS get the SMALLEST rawhide every morning. I protested one morning to this effect, but she didn’t care; she put my rawhide back in the bin and literally said, “What do I care?” Hmmpph. If I had it my way all the time, she wouldn’t work at all. I think her “work” has something to do with tennis, or golf, or jump roping, but all that stuff is play. She can play with us here. And she always takes a deep sigh and relaxes when she puts on her pajamas at night. Why doesn’t she just keep them on? She thinks her shoes are cool, but they look pretty black-and-white to me. But the worst, the absolute worst, is when she gets a suitcase down from the closet. I simply cannot believe there are other dogs out there worth spending DAYS away from me.