Hey world. It's me again.
So, I had a really traumatic experience tonight. I thought my world was ending. The uprights, apparently, had somewhere to go. This was the first time they left me home alone, and I didn't like it.
They moved my super-deluxe crate into the living room, and they tricked me with cookies into actually going in. Then, they locked the door, told me to be a good boy, and LEFT!!! What could I do? I barked and howled and yelped and carried on. I just got here. How could they crate me up and abandon me already?
Eventually I calmed down, but I'm hoping Mom and Dad think I freaked all night. Serves them right. They went out for something called prime rib. They didn't bring any back for me, so how good could it be? They also said something about having a gift card from Christmas. How that could connect with this prime rib stuff I'll never get. Anyway, now that I think of it, it was kind of nice of Mom to leave some gentle lights on for me. She put the outside lights on so I could see the backyard through the window (nice thinking Mom) and then put some pretty coloured Christmas lights on inside. It was light enough for me to see and dark enough for me to nap.
So, I resigned myself to never ever seeing them again, and fell into the dark cold sleep of despair. I'm sure I laid there for days, weeks maybe, and then the strangest thing happened....
They came back.
Seriously. They came back. They came back to me!
Is this what forever home means? That they always come back? I pretended to forgive them by jumping around like a crazy dog. (They love that.) Then I went out for a pee and pretended I was so excited I fell into the wood barrel. I'm so glad no one had a camera, or that would be making the email rounds.
So, I'll need to do some further investigation into what this whole "forever home" concept is, but I'm thinking it might be a good thing. You might say I'm cautiously optimistic.
Gotta run. It's time for bed, and I have to get there early if I want to beat Daddy to his pillow.
Later fellow Canadians (and of course, all my American and international buds, too).
Rudy
So, I had a really traumatic experience tonight. I thought my world was ending. The uprights, apparently, had somewhere to go. This was the first time they left me home alone, and I didn't like it.
They moved my super-deluxe crate into the living room, and they tricked me with cookies into actually going in. Then, they locked the door, told me to be a good boy, and LEFT!!! What could I do? I barked and howled and yelped and carried on. I just got here. How could they crate me up and abandon me already?
Eventually I calmed down, but I'm hoping Mom and Dad think I freaked all night. Serves them right. They went out for something called prime rib. They didn't bring any back for me, so how good could it be? They also said something about having a gift card from Christmas. How that could connect with this prime rib stuff I'll never get. Anyway, now that I think of it, it was kind of nice of Mom to leave some gentle lights on for me. She put the outside lights on so I could see the backyard through the window (nice thinking Mom) and then put some pretty coloured Christmas lights on inside. It was light enough for me to see and dark enough for me to nap.
So, I resigned myself to never ever seeing them again, and fell into the dark cold sleep of despair. I'm sure I laid there for days, weeks maybe, and then the strangest thing happened....
They came back.
Seriously. They came back. They came back to me!
Is this what forever home means? That they always come back? I pretended to forgive them by jumping around like a crazy dog. (They love that.) Then I went out for a pee and pretended I was so excited I fell into the wood barrel. I'm so glad no one had a camera, or that would be making the email rounds.
So, I'll need to do some further investigation into what this whole "forever home" concept is, but I'm thinking it might be a good thing. You might say I'm cautiously optimistic.
Gotta run. It's time for bed, and I have to get there early if I want to beat Daddy to his pillow.
Later fellow Canadians (and of course, all my American and international buds, too).
Rudy
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