Hello. It is me Buddy. You know the cute, intelligent, comely, and furry (REALLY furry) black miniature poodle.
I am going privilege you with the information of a day in MY life, this would be a good time to get out your handkerchiefs.
Ok, let’s get down to business. I woke up at around five thirty (yawn). The big human called Dad had waken me with his clattering (clumsy human). So I lay in MY house an hour or so before being let out into the freezing cold (brrrrrr, that woke me up!). I did my business and came back in quickly. What were my humans thinking?! Getting my fur cut this winter and against my will too! Oh, never mind.
When I came back, I ran in and grabbed my trusty snowman ball. I pranced around for a while, bragging to mom human, Johnny human, and Chloe human that they couldn’t have my beautiful ball. Then, however, I made an important discovery; they didn’t care!! Drat!! Why don’t my humans want a nice ball in their mouths like me. I will never understand them. (sigh)
I found a nice sunny spot and lounged there for about three hours, moving with it as it crossed the carpet. Why must it torture me so? I was enjoying my self until.....Johnny STOLE MY BALL!!! The nerve!! Well, I’d even steal my ball back from the president of the United States and Johnny was definatly not his superior. That meant war! I lept into action, teeth bared (Grrrrr!). Johnny hid my ball in his shirt and at the same time, I bit his finger gently. You see, he is the puppy of the pack and mom would end my life if I hurt him.
Just then, Chloe came in and sided with me. She brought Johnny to the ground and wrestled my ball out of his hands.
I got into a crouching position, waiting, waiting..... Then Chloe threw the ball to me!!! I caught it in mid-air and landed running. Oh, no!! I was caught in one of Johnny’s infamous traps. Cornered!! Good thing Chloe was there. But listening to her directions, I was able to escape.
The war raged on for a little bit longer, but soon the puppies tired of this game. We settled down for some scratching, ah, good scratching.
Later I smelled the sweet aroma of steak coming from the humans’ table and I wanted some. I took my "scrap position" under the table, hoping and praying for some steak. Soon my efforts were rewarded by a small fatty piece of meat. From mom, of all humans.
After feasting on my meat, dinner was over. So, I played with my ball, while mom put the puppies to bed. When she came back out, I was invited onto the couch for a massage (aaaahhh). Soon dad went to bed, so mom threw my ball a couple of times before I too went to bed. I hoped I could sleep in, but knew it would not happen.
So, that is my story. Call P.E.T.A., if you must. Go ahead and cry. Yes, you can send me steak..... Well, don’t get too dramatic, but go ahead with the steak. Good bye!