Dad: If Avery is 5, Avery is 5, Avery is 5
Me: Then Dad is 6!
Dad: Then Dad is 6, Then Dad is 6, Then Dad is 6, And if Dad is 6…
Me: Then Paco is 7!
Dad: …Who’s Paco?
Today Dad is watching a documentary about 15 puppies who were kidnapped for the purpose of making a fur coat for a crazy lady. In total, this “Cruel Devil” kidnapped 99 puppies. fortunately a last minute escape was arranged by animals in the area and the original 15’s parents. Some people are so sick. I understand how appealing the “fur” look can be, but why would a human wear fur when leather is just as warm?
Dad sometimes calls me a “butt-face doody-head”. Dad, seriously, my face is a part of my head. So I can be a butt-face butt-head or a doody-face doody-head, but not a butt-face doody-head or a doody-face butt-head.
Dad: I’m glad we got up early, so we can be productive today.
Me: Productive? You mean like sex?
Dad: No, you’re thinking of “reproductive”.
Me: You can be reproductive without being productive.
Dad and I started the morning off great. Dad called me onto his bed and gave me pets. We played a little. Then Dad started to get up. I jumped down and licked Dad’s right foot. It was kind of weird, but I know he likes kisses. Dad went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Dad likes water. I don’t know why, but he does this every morning. I stood in the doorway smiling as I watched him. Then Dad took off my collar. I was concerned, but trusted him. Dad told me to get into the bathtub…But there was water in there. Then Dad picked me up, my legs stuck out straight, looking for something to aide in my resistance. My feet slid frantically around the base of the tub. Then I stood, defeated. Dad poured water over me, then got me all messy with soap, the poured water over me to rinse the soap off. Talk about pointless. I don’t know why humans like this sort of thing or why they think dogs should too, but I work hard for my stink and no human has the right to take it away from me.
I’m sorry to my fan for my absence from this blog in recent months. I’ve gone through some big changes and don’t know if know how I feel about them yet. Dad and me moved into an apartment in October. Now Dad lets me sleep in bed with him. I like this very much. Still, Dad leaves during the day and my brothers still live with their mom. This is confusing. Is she still my mom? I never see her. Either way, I am pretty happy here. Dad takes me on walks almost every day and we walk Town Lake on Sundays. More to come soon.
Our backdoor is magic. Sometimes I can see it and sometimes I can’t. I can’t smell through it or hear through it. At least not very well. I suspect light is being bent around the door via microscopic mirrors. Why my humans would intentionally hide the door is beyond me. I accidentally ran, full speed, into this door just the other day. It’s true what they say – This is Man’s world.
Dad has been leaving Toby, Rax and me alone lately. He always puts me in my kennel before he leaves. This is bothersome to me, because being confined to my kennel makes it rather difficult to show dad how much I miss him. Before the kennel, I would spread trash all over the living area. Then dad put a door on the kitchen, so I had to climb over the kitchen counter to spread trash throughout the kitchen. Also dog treats. My people leave full bags of dog treats in the kitchen. Dad says he has to leave so that he can buy food for us. Why doesn’t he just go to the grocery store? Every time he goes to the grocery store, he comes back with food. Now Dad leaves me in my kennel any time he leaves. The only thing I can do to tell him how much I love and miss him is to cry and bark as he is leaving and when he gets back. Dad fusses at me for doing this and sometimes sprays me with a water gun. He says I can’t do this once we are living in an apartment. He would seem to imply this is going to happen soon. I hope Mom is okay without us.
Dad: “Avery, how do you feel about gay marriage?”
Me: “What’s gay?”
Dad: “Gay is when a person likes to have sex with another person with the same sex organs.”
Me: “Well they should get married before having sex, because God sends people who have premarital sex to Hell.”
Me: “Yeah Dad. You’re going to Hell.”
Dad: Who’s my good boy? Avery is.
Me: Dad, you’re talking about me like I’m not here. You mean to say “You are my good boy.” or “You’re…”. That’s what they call a “contraction”.