Ok, the Woman is not a dog but she is my mom. I thought she liked me. I like her. But she humiliated me. She wrote a silly thing about making me wear that awful pink thing and then she put pictures here so you could all see how goofy and feminine I look in a pink thing. That is humiliating. So I took over. At least for now. I read how to change the name on the account and put my name on it. It is now Dakota Dawg’s blog. I am Dakota Dawg, and I do not wear pink!
I would like to address Mom’s concerns. First of all–yes, the damn thing itches like crazy. It drives me bananas. If I could take a stick and rub it all over the sore place, I would. It hurts when I lick it, but it feels good, too. I don’t know which to pay attention to, the hurting when I lick it or the itching when I don’t. Mom doesn’t have any idea how awful it feels. She says it will stop itching soon. I don’t know if I can trust her anymore.
And no, I wasn’t being naughty. I was being a dog. Or a dawg, even. I am a wild animal, a creature of nature, and I shouldn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. I know who I am and what I deserve. I deserve to feel better, I deserve to run around wherever I want and pee on anything I feel like. I deserve to bark at whatever time I want to bark. I deserve to have that big pillow on the left side of my bed, and I deserve to have my supper at 4 p.m. sharp. Mom’s getting better about that last part.
This morning I sat on the driveway while Mom did the heavy lifting. I watched her bring in firewood. I was wearing the silly pink shirt thing. I can’t figure out how to get it off. But she did the hard work and I thought about licking my butt. I learned how to prop up against a wall to make it look even lazier. I tried to make it look good. The neighbor’s dogs were mouthing off again and I growled. I haven’t felt like growling for a couple of weeks, but today I did. I thought about running off into the woods and kicking their butts, but I remembered I was doing a study in laziness so I stayed propped against the wall. And growled. And honestly, I also remembered that I was wearing a pink thing and knew I could never let them see me like that.
I found the pictures Mom took of me in the pink thing. The worst part was being betrayed by Evelyn. She just sat there with me and didn’t care that I had to wear her clothes–girl clothes. She laughed at me after Mom put us to bed. She is the worst roommate in the whole world. See? She didn’t help me at all. My eyes are pleading for help and she didn’t care.
I’m not sure if I will lock Mom out of this blog permanently. I have to think about it. She really ticked me off. She has let strangers cut off several parts of my body that were pretty important to me and then wounded my dignity. I’m gonna take a nap and sleep on it. I’ll get back to you.
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