Today we call Monday Mischief on the snow that kept us from greeting our neighbor properly.
So we have this great big beautiful field that we love to run and play in.
But it’s not just for dogs, we have to share with everyone, which is as it should be.
Mom says no-one is allowed there after dark, but some younger folks somehow get up there and they have campfires from trees and branches they’ve dragged from the woods. It really makes my mom mad because there are other, wild animals that live up there and she feels like the kids are being disrespectful.
So last week….I left them a present.
I never learned to count past three. It’s not like it’s my fault or anything, Momma never sent me to school and the only way I learned was by listening to her.
Who knows, I am a dog after all, maybe there just isn’t anything that comes after three. All I know is Momma says, “One, Two, Three” and then it’s not pretty. And by that I mean she gets ugly.
The reason I bring this up is because Momma was so badly behaved on our walk yesterday. Instead of following Delilah and I, she ran away at least three times.
It’s totally not a cool way for a Mom to behave. Delilah and I had to run super fast in order to find her (who knew an out of shape woman could run that fast? I sure as woof didn’t.)
Guess where she was?
Behind a tree no less. I was surprised there was a tree big enough to hide her, what with all the layers of clothes she had on.
And guess what? She was mad.
To make it worse, she made us sit and take pictures.
Then she says a bad word (I told you she got ugly) and says we dropped a leash and have to backtrack to see where she left it.
WE? Do you have a mouse in your pocket Momma, because I don’t remember holding a leash. How can you drop a leash and not know it? I know exactly where I drop anything and have no trouble finding it!
Delilah and I kindly start walking back and I stop to look for the leash and she says, “Move it Sampson,” and when I stop again she says, “Get out of my way Sampson” and finally through gritted teeth, “Keep moving Sampson!” And then she said some more really bad words.
What the woof? I was only doing what she asked me to do, looking for the leash that SHE dropped.
Delilah was all worried and stuff because Mom was acting so mean, so she stayed right there with Mom. Then when Delilah’s leash got stuck on a really big branch, Momma did some weird Ninja movements with her hands (and more bad words) then she took that branch and threw it like she was some spear chucking caveman intent on killing a Wooly Mammoth.
I was so glad we didn’t run into any other dogs out there, because Momma’s behavior was horrible yesterday.
It makes me wonder just exactly how long DOES it take to train a human? Is it even possible? Any of you dogs out there have any ideas?
What’s a couch potato?
I’m not really sure but I’ve often heard my ‘rents (pawrents for those of you not up on dog lingo) refer to me as a couch potato. I’m not sure what the reference to a potato is because quite frankly most potatoes I’ve seen just lie around doing nothing until it’s time to eat.
Oh. I get the reference now.
That’s just plain mean.
I’m always up for a walk or to go hang outside with dad.
In fact, here are a couple of photos from one of our wood walks last week (along with my commentary of course!)
I don’t see how I could possibly be considered a couch potato!
Do your ‘rents try to categorize you?