Lots of people, when they see our family out walking, like to ask Mom what it's like to have two dogs. Mom always says it's truly fun, with twice as many laughs and tons more love. But I thought you, my fellow canines, would like to know my perspective. After all, I had the run of the house from the time I was 3 and a half months old (except for those first few months when I was crated part of the time to teach me manners). Mom and Dad played catch with me and tug-a-dog; they took me to the dog park and even on a long trip to North Florida on one of Dad's business trips. And Mom talked to me a lot while she was working. I had my own private bench next to her computer so I could help her out when she needed me.
I loved to go on rides, so one Saturday, when I was about 3 and a half years old, I wasn't surprised when we all got in the car and headed north. We drove for a few hours, with a few pit stops on the Turnpike, and then we arrived at a lady's house where two of my wire friends, Jack and Alle, lived. The three of us played for awhile, and I even got to kiss Alle.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a knock on the door and in came a lady with another foxy-looking guy. "This is Harry," she said. "Fine," I thought, and went back to chasing Alle. But everyone had a different idea, and before I knew it, Harry and I were outside with Mom and Dad in the lady's yard -- "neutral territory" they called it -- and they seemed to expect us to make nice with each other.
Well, to make a long story short, the next thing I knew, Harry was in a crate on the back seat of the car and I was in Mom's lap headed home. Harry was pretty quiet on the way home, but when we got there, he got out of the crate and simply walked into the house. My house!!! With my toys!! And my human parents whom I overheard having a long conversation about being sensitive to my feelings!!!
And that's how it all began. Stay tuned for Part Two!!
Day break, day glo militants.
1 hour ago