Have you ever seen a dog ice skate? If you had been at our house this morning, you would have seen two! Somewhere in the night, we had an ice storm that left a thin layer of ice on everything. When Micky and I went out back for our morning potty break, we didn’t realize the ice was all over the deck and the stairs leading down to the yard.
Since my legs are pretty long, I looked like a newborn giraffe when I was trying to walk on the deck. The stairs were a bit hair-raising too. Mom was laughing, but a little concerned I would slip and slide down the stairs and hurt myself. This is definitely a time when I would have appreciated Micky’s stumpy little legs. She just hunched up her shoulders and motored down the stairs like she had ice spikes on. I swear she is more battle tank than dog!
Speaking of Micky, she’s at it again. Since we’ve been trapped inside, staying out of the cold, she has decided that tormenting me is how she gets her kicks. We were standing in the kitchen today, not really doing anything, but I set my ball down on the floor. That little turkey saw me do it and stole it. She ran over, grabbed it, and ran back into her giant condo crate. As if this wasn’t bad enough, she just set it down in there and stared at me. She didn’t want to play with it. She just didn’t want me playing with it. Well, obviously, I was pissed. I wanted my ball back, but there is no way I was sticking my head in that crate with all those teeth. I’m pretty brave, but I’m not stupid. She was just waiting on my to try something like that so she could rip me a new one. Not – Gonna – Happen. Instead, I sat right in front of the crate and yelled at her. Mom and Dad came over to look at why I was barking, but they didn’t help me one bit. They just laughed and walked away.
We’ve been over this a couple times. All the balls in the house are mine! There is no reason anyone else should be walking away with my ball. If they do, I will voice my displeasure, loudly!
On the subject of my ball, somebody – I won’t say who – hurt my feelings tonight. They said that one of the things you can count on in this house is Dillon (Me) showing up with his ball and hassling anyone who visits. That’s just rude! I don’t hassle people with my ball. It’s not like that at all. I really enjoy my ball. I love chasing after it as it bounces around in every direction. When someone comes over to the house, I’m trying to be a good host by sharing my ball and letting them enjoy it with me. I politely set the ball in their lap and then back up. Sure, I may hop up to remind them that it is there a time or two, but eventually, I go about my business. And the idea that I could be hassling anyone is absurd. I consider it part of my job to make people feel welcomed and happy. Mom is the one who is always saying it is impossible to be in a bad mood with me around. I want people to be happy, so I do what I can to brighten your day. If that’s hassling, then EXCUUUUSSSEEE Me!
Ugh, I’m so upset, I think I need a nap. Where’s my ball?!?