Dillon, day 52 of my life in DC!

Image credit: Mike Olness

Dillon, day 52 of my life in DC!
2 min read

It’s raining again…

Isn’t that a Supertramp song? Dad listens to some weird stuff so I never know who’s up next. All the hassle of going outside has been stepped up another notch. Now, when we go out, they won’t let me have my ball until I use the bathroom. It’s supposed to be my reward or something, but why do I need a reward? If I have to pee, I’ll pee. Otherwise, I wanna chase my ball. Whatever… Getting ready to go outside is no picnic either. Each time we go out, I get frisked and they take all my toys. Apparently, there are rules about which toys can go outside. Mom’s friend Kathy gave me a fuzzy rat to play with and it’s fun to squeak. I love it and I’m sure it would make a nice echo from the backyard, but I suppose I don’t get to find out. Mom said, “absolutely not!” It’s my toy and even though I try to sneak past them, there is no way I’m gonna get to take it outside. Because it was raining all day, I thought it might be nice to help Mom with her crafting up on the production lines. She’s got a real assembly line going up there. She’s got quite a pile of pillows up there. Somebody must be pretty clumsy to need all those pillows. I’m guessing it’s Dad, I worry about him. Dinnertime, tonight, brought a new surprise treat. Mom called it a carrot and when she gave it to me, I had no idea what it was or what to do with it. It didn’t have much smell and the texture was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. On the other hand, Micky knew exactly what to do with it. (I guess I should have known, it’s food!) She started crunching away happily, so I figured I would give it a try. As soon as I crunched into it, I figured out why she was so happy. They’re delicious and because I’m a good chewer, there’s plenty to crunch on. Dinner always makes me sleepy, so I hopped up on the couch for a little shut-eye. Unfortunately, when I woke up, I wasn’t paying attention to which direction I was facing and rolled right off into the jaws of death. And by the jaws of death, I mean Micky. She was loitering in front of the couch for some reason and as I rolled off, all I saw was her face and those teeth. I’m not sure how it happened, but she was so stunned I got away before she even realized I landed on her. Whew! That was a close one. (Honestly, I think she’s warming up to me. I get away with a lot of crap she wouldn’t begin to put up with from other dogs.)

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