Papa got some new chews recently. Today, he got home from work, and put them on the table. Chews don't belong on the table, so I thought I'd help him by putting them on the floor.
I got one on the floor and was just starting to work on it with my brilliantly sharp white teeth when he came back into the room "MOZEY!!!! Bad dog! Those are NOT for you! I can't leave you alone even long enough to go out to the car?" he yelled, quite unecessarily, since my keen ears can pick up the whispering of a mouse at a hundred paces.
I shrugged and wandered off. They weren't very tasty chews, I typically prefer them once they've been worked in a bit, this were a little tough and they seemed to be brand new.
Tonight, the boy from next door stopped by with a box that had been brought by the man in the funny brown truck. It smelled so good! I knew what it was right away - bull penii! They are delicious! Mmm, so good!
I really don't understand what Papa meant when he said "Oh, finally, your bullies have arrived so you don't need to go swiping my shoes off the table anymore." I thought they were my chews! He put them on MY table instead of by the door with his other pairs.
Dear loyal readers,
I am sorry for my extended absence over the summer. I was enjoying myself, and I will tell you all about my adventures when there is time. Suffice it to say for now that I quite enjoyed Canada.