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September 28th 2010 6:45 pm
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Today's diary entry was written by Richard M. of Long Beach, CA. The colorful memorial plaque was drawn by Crystal V., who lived next door to Dillon and played with him often.
I am so sad I cannot express my love for that dog and the joy he brought to everyone he loved, licked! He truly stole your heart. Woo Woo Stew was such a dear dear dog. He loved all but would sit out front every time you two would leave waiting for the two people that he loved the most. I am so so sad. He is with Ebony and they are pulling the rope I just know it. Hugs to you both.
April 2nd 2008 9:51 am
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April Fool's day was yesterday. Woo, I've skipped my diary for a year and a day! My "pack" keeps me busy, and mostly on my back with jaws clamped around my neck. Nothing to write home about. Anyhow, I am especially peeved at Zeak. One time he brought our Dad his leash, holding it in his mouth and laying it at Dad's feet. Dad thought that was so clever! I don't think so. If Zeak wants a walk, he should just dance around wagging his tail and whining like a proper dog. Then there is that dirty ball business. Zeak and Abby chase rubber balls that our Dad throws into the back acreage. Soon the balls are all slimy, gritty, muddy, and unsuitable for chewing. At game's end, Zeak takes his indoors and plops it into his water dish, or sometimes the toilet, and moves it around until it is clean. Again, Dad thinks Zeak must be some kind of genius for figuring that out. Big whoopie-do.
April 1st 2007 1:19 am
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The day before yesterday was so grand! Vanessa came over from next door and made a Dogster page for her Zeak. Young Vanessa is already 84 years old and growing taller every day. That's dog years, of course. Afterward, my dad took me to the dog park which he said is a new place. Wow (I mean woo), what a treat! Plenty of dogs to run with, and wild, exciting smells! I had pleasant dreams all night. The humans said I was running in my sleep.
Then yesterday came. I guess there has to be a bad day now and then, so's we'll know to appreciate the good days. In the morning Zeak did that game he does with his mouth on my throat and me on my back--not fun at all, so I went and hid out under the storage shed. Then I got stuck! I heard my mom calling and calling for me, but I couldn't bark, because I was so stuck I could hardly breathe. Then I heard her car going out the gate while she was calling. Then my dad walked by the shed and I summoned up a little groan. Pretty soon mom and dad were digging me out and pulling boards away. Dad was mad. He said I blew a whole morning we could have spent at the dog park, just him and me and Zeak. But that was Zeak's fault, not mine!
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