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Cati Dids

Yeah, fine.

Whatever. It's official now, Max lives here.

He doesn't live in my crate, though. That's a relief.
He doesn't eat out of my dish.
He doesn't beat up on my cat-I make sure of that.

He is a fast runner.
That makes him fun to chase.
He is a good wrestler.
That makes him fun to play with.
He is a good snorer.
Bound to have learned that from me.
And he hates the big swimming pool as much as I do.

Ok, I guess he can stay. He's goofy and he slobbers a lot, but he's fun.

For an uncle, anyway.

He's still here.

Really, he is. I thought maybe he was just here for a Visit. After all, humans come to visit all the time and sometimes they're here a few days. I thought maybe Max was doing the human "Visiting" thing.

It looks suspiciously like he's Staying.

Visiting and Staying are completely different things.

Visiting I could handle. The guy's got his good points. He can really run, which makes him good at chase games. He really couldn't care less about human food, which means we don't compete on that level. And there is the advantage of me being able to bark at say, nothing in particular, but he doesn't know that so he goes off like a loudspeaker then gets this sheepish look on his face and says, "What are we barking at?" I always answer, "I stopped barking long ago and there is now nothing to bark at. However you, nitwit, have been going on and on and on like a crazy person."

He still hasn't caught on to the ruse.

It happened last week

We went for a drive. I'm thinking Road Trip! Usually boring except when I get to get out of the car and smell new things, or when we stop by some sort of restaraunt and I get somethng unhealthy but totally delicious to eat.

Some road trip.

We met a lady with a dog.

Then we brought the dog home with us.

Then we brought him in the house, gave him a crate, food, and attention. All that. Mom says he's my uncle. Dad says I'll learn to love him.

Love him? It's hard to l-i-k-e him, much less love him.

He thinks he should run things, first of all. I've never had anybody to boss around before, but darned if I'm going to let him be boss. I just need to learn how to tell him that. I'm fluent in human speak, but it's been so long since I spoke dog, that I've forgotten most of it.

He drools. HOW he drools. Yesterday I stepped in a puddle of spit. HIS spit. So gross. And he gets so excited. When he gets happy he just goes nuts.

I have to share with him. If I get a bite to eat, he gets a bite to eat. If I get lovin', so does he. At least I still get one-on-one time with the folks, but I have a feeling that Max does too. That's his name. Max. I know because I hear it called so often.

The folks just love him. Even the cat loves him.

I don't. I don't, I don't, I don't.

I wish he would just go home.

But maybe he could come back for playtime. Pretty often. Yeah. That's one thing he is good for. I love playing with him, but I better not tell the folks that.