Pouting on my bed.
Swimming.
Sniffin' Mom's flowers.
Wearing Dad's ridiculous hat.
Putting my butt in the garden, completely oblivious of such.
What?!
Pulling Dad around.
Having a real good roll in a real good stinky dead fish in the park, getting a not so good bath, poofing the next day, and making sure Mom doesn't do something funny with my bed.
No! I didn't run right through the lilac bush. At least not this time...
Philosophising in the sun, in the dirt patch I created, over all that has been and might possibly be to come...and also about how those baths aren't so bad 'cause Mom can't keep her hands off me afterwards and calls me pretty boy at least 20 times a day. My conclusion is that rolling in dead fish has several benefits.
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2 comments:
And that's what you did in a whole month's time and think it worthy of blogging about?!? Ridiculously boring. Why on earth, for instance, didn't you EAT the fish???????? It's a good thing I came along, you'd be hopelessly dull otherwise.
~Your little brother
We don't have dead fish, but boy oh boy, we have plenty of stinky stuff to roll in. My favorite is Wild Turkey poop.
I really don't understand why my Mom gets so grumpy when she sees me do it. Well, we are off to the groomer again. Mom refuses to pet me until I'm clean again!!!
Sophia in Wisconsin
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