Dillon, day 82 of my life in DC!

Locking me out of the backyard wasn’t punishment enough. Now, we’re doing something she calls “Learning Manners.” I have no idea what that means except that I get latched up to a leash when their friends come over. Apparently, not everyone likes to have a dog standing in their lap when they sit on the couch. Worse, when they’re sitting on the floor, playing cards, I’m not allowed to wander around and push my ball under the ottoman.

This is a fine kettle of fish! I hope this whole manners thing doesn’t last long.
Oh, and the abuse doesn’t stop there. The other night Mom and Dad said I must be part cat. Do I look like a cat? If I see a stranger, do I not bark? If I find a new bush, do I not raise my leg on it? How can I be part cat?
Dad says it’s because I like to rub up against people and weave between their legs. Well, and maybe I hunch my back a bit while I’m doing it. That does not mean I have cat in me anywhere. Dad says if I need more evidence, the fact that I love to sit up at the top of the stairs and drop my ball to watch it fall should cover it. Why is that weird? I love to watch things fall. When I drop my ball, it bounces and rolls around and then I can chase it. I love it!
Oh well, at least I can still enjoy watching TV. The other night, I was watching Jimmy Fallon and it was hilarious. They had Metallica on there, playing little toy instruments. It sounded pretty good. Not a bad way to relax before going to bed!

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