I know I don't post on here often, but I don't always have a lot to say. What do you want from me? I'm a dog for heaven's sake.
How many times can I write about sleeping? I guess I can tell you I have two beds. That way, I'm always fairly close to a place to collapse when I get exhausted from howling at passing dogs or people or when it just gets to be too much having the house to myself.
I could also blog about the fact that I have to roll some stupid ball all over the house in order to get my food. Or the fact that the female human put some sort of plastic cover with little prickly tabs all over it on the places I used to like to get up an lay on when I have the house to myself.
Or maybe I could complain about the fact that the humans put me on a leash whenever they let me outside - all because of some hole in the fence that the neighbors won't fix. I tell you, Rodney Dangerfield has got nothing on me.
I guess I could write about all of those things, but that takes too much effort, and I'm tired. So instead of writing about any of those things, I think I'll go lay down and rest for a while. After all, a beagle needs his beauty sleep - all 18 hours of it.
Bark. Bark. Howl.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
Three Years
Well, it's coming up on three years since I moved in with my current humans. (The less said about the previous four-plus years the better.) All in all, it's been a pretty good three years.
For three years, they've fed me pretty well. None of that cut-rate supermarket stuff, although a few scraps from the dinner table now and then wouldn't go amiss.
They let me play keep-away with them. (They like to call it fetch, but what's in a name?) They take me for rides in the truck from time to time and let me enjoy and explore new places when we take out the big rolling doghouse. (I think they call it a fifth-wheel, but I only see four. Maybe humans can't count so good.) They also don't get too upset when I throw up on the carpet, although the female human doesn't seem to find it very amusing.
However, I do have one beef with them. (Beef. Now there's something else I could go for in my diet. Hint, hint.) They no longer let me run free in the back yard. What's up with that?
Okay, so I did get out through a hole in the fence a few times, but I didn't go that far. Even so, now when they let me out, they put me on a long leash. I now have even less chance of catching squirrels or cats when I chase after them. I'm becoming the laughing stock of the animal kingdom.
They also started putting plastic with little knobby things on some of the furniture when they aren't using it. You'd think they didn't want me on it or something.
Still, life after three years with these humans is pretty good. I get plenty of food, plenty of rest (a dog needs his beauty sleep, after all), and plenty of lap time. Life around here isn't perfect, but a beagle could do worse.
Bark. Bark. Woof.
For three years, they've fed me pretty well. None of that cut-rate supermarket stuff, although a few scraps from the dinner table now and then wouldn't go amiss.
They let me play keep-away with them. (They like to call it fetch, but what's in a name?) They take me for rides in the truck from time to time and let me enjoy and explore new places when we take out the big rolling doghouse. (I think they call it a fifth-wheel, but I only see four. Maybe humans can't count so good.) They also don't get too upset when I throw up on the carpet, although the female human doesn't seem to find it very amusing.
However, I do have one beef with them. (Beef. Now there's something else I could go for in my diet. Hint, hint.) They no longer let me run free in the back yard. What's up with that?
Okay, so I did get out through a hole in the fence a few times, but I didn't go that far. Even so, now when they let me out, they put me on a long leash. I now have even less chance of catching squirrels or cats when I chase after them. I'm becoming the laughing stock of the animal kingdom.
They also started putting plastic with little knobby things on some of the furniture when they aren't using it. You'd think they didn't want me on it or something.
Still, life after three years with these humans is pretty good. I get plenty of food, plenty of rest (a dog needs his beauty sleep, after all), and plenty of lap time. Life around here isn't perfect, but a beagle could do worse.
Bark. Bark. Woof.
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