Doggon it

I begin now while my Dad still has some ways to go before he starts his pet sitting business. But I can't tell you what his plans are for real. He stares at this laptop a great deal and every now and then types a few things. My Mom always asks him; "What are you doin'?" And he replies, "Nothin'." In which case he is correct because as of late I haven't seen Dad do a whole lot of anything except sit, type, and drink that hot, black stuff on the counter. He does get down on the floor and play with me, and lets me out and feeds me and gives me treats when I do good. Or even when I'm not good and I just sit and watch him and bark. I got that trick from the old Miss Pheonix before she left us. It's all in the eyes. The eyes have it. If you stare at things long enough they end up either in your mouth or the trash can. So learn to stare at whatever it is that's in a human's hands and if its edible, chances are you'll get at least a taste.

Best bet is to make cute chomping sounds while you crumble it up in your mouth so they'll want to see you do it again, and that way you'll get another bit of it. If you don't like it, sneeze or drop it on the floor and run away or pretend your chasing the cat. That will distract them and you'll get something else because they'll feel guilty about giving you something you really don't like. Maybe a beggin strippy thingy will come your way. Or the minty fresh breath wafer. What ever you get will be worth it. So keep up the good work and keep on begging.

That's not what I was to write about. But I'm a dog. I change my mind about what I want to do all the time and nobody ever notices the difference. See?

Wait. That was a car. Okay. Not in our driveway. Could be next time. Never know. Bye