Hoo boy there is nothing more fun than running around in the snow. I gotta hand it to the old dame--I didn't think she'd get out there with me. All day yesterday she said no way was she going out there, no way. She was still saying it this morning, but I wore her down. Non stop whining. Sure it's embarrassing, but it was worth it. Here's a pic of me striking a distinguished pose.
Okay now I have grasped the situation. I slept in the kid's room for a coupla nights and didn't see hide nor hair of him. "Gone" means like before, when he was never around. Last night I gave up and slept on the old dame's bed. This morning she turned the radio on in the kid's room and I was faked out by it--I went in there and looked around for him, but no dice.
It's a bummer, but I amused myself yesterday by getting into the wood pile next to the fireplace and having a good chew on the living room rug. Today both the wood pile and the rug smell weird so I'll probably leave them alone.
At any rate the old dame tries to make up for it. We played together outside after she came home from "work" yesterday, and it was plenty of fun. I could hear her counting every time she threw the ball. I knew she was going to count to fifty and then stop, so after she threw the ball and said "forty-nine" I decided I'd had enough, just to mess with her a little. Heh. Humans.
Well I don?t quite know what to make of things around here this evening. The old dame is in the dumps, I can tell that much. I?m giving her a break. The kid isn?t here, and somehow I think there?s a connection, but I?m not sure what it is. There are plenty of times when he isn?t here, like when he?s hanging out with Matt or Joe, but this is different somehow. The old dame doesn?t say the kid ?isn?t here??she says he?s ?gone?, and ?gone? is a whole lot bigger and sadder than ?isn?t here?, apparently.
The kid was here for a long time, and we had some fun, I can tell you that. The old dame had fun with the kid too. They did a lot of stuff together?buying stuff, eating, ?bowling?, whatever that is. The old dame even enjoys working in the yard when the kid?s helping her, like bagging leaves, restacking firewood, etc. etc. I wouldn?t file ?bagging leaves? under ?wild times? if it were up to me, but who can explain humans.
Well, the old dame?s mood has gotten to me. Not that I?m a sentimentalist, mind you, but I think I?ll go lie in my crate for a while. It?s in the kid?s room. Maybe if I wait there for him he?ll come back.
Hoo boy, yesterday was a long day. Started with a bath and a manicure at a place the name of which I hesitate to disclose--Pretty Pet. Man, that place is Yorkie heaven; I've never seen so many Yorkshire Terriers in one place. And the Pekinese; I mean, give me a break. It's a good thing I wasn't the only big dog there, or I'd have been emotionally scarred for life by the experience. It was bad enough--I came out smelling like Joel Cairo in The Maltese Falcon, which is not my style, if you get my drift. Although just between you and me, I dig the blow dryer.
Fortunately, the smell didn't last. In the afternoon I got together with my buddy Jackson. We hadn't seen each other for quite a while, and we were both surprised at how much the other had grown. General Stonewall Jackson--Jackson to his friends--is an American bulldog, mostly brindle. We've been playing together since we were pups, and he still rolls over for me, heh. I'm two months older and I taught him everything he knows about wrestling. We wrestled together for about an hour, until we were both exhausted.
Unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), the park we wrestled in was muddy. When we got back to Jackson's house we both got our second bath of the day, if you call being hosed off a "bath".
