Diarrhea, fleas, garbage and grass eating, hiding in closets, hiding under the rose bush, no eye contact, don't even think about petting me, oh wait, treats? Chicken? What? Wet dog food? Okay, maybe we can be in the same room. No, we have to be the same room. I'll follow you around the house, but if you turn around to watch me, I'll run. Wait, what's my tail doing? It's wagging? Huh, that's strange. What is your hand doing? That hand better not be coming near me-- I said don't touch me. Run! Run! Run down the stairs, run up the stairs, run under the bed! What's that sound-- I know that sound, the treat bag! Okay, I'll take a treat from your hand, but don't get any ideas, I mean it.
Count all four of my babes in the bottom picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment