We'd better go to the damn dog park today!

So, uh...I'm a dog. So I don't really have any insightful, um...insights. Let me just begin by talking a bit about the kinds of things that run through my head. Which, to be frank, is, a lot of the time, nothing. Because I sleep a lot. I think we all do. Night, day...really, most of the time. I suppose my subconcious has a lot going on. I guess I dream, but I don't really wake up and think about my dreams. Come on, quit anthropomorphizing. When I am awake, I think about balls (the kind you play with...well, I mean the kind I play with...you know what I mean!!!) and food, if there is anything interesting going on in the kitchen (otherwise, there's just kibble and I don't really think about that because it's just always there, no point thinking about it) and the dog park and sometimes the cat and everyday the damn mailman comes to the door and that guy really sucks. He angers me. I don't know why, really. The UPS guy does the same thing, only sometimes he brings me treats. The mailman? No treats. Just an ugly vibe. Hey, I'm a dog. We pick up on these sorts of things. It's like a sixth sense. "I see dead mailmen." Seriously, though, just slip a damn milk bone through the slot once in a while, jerk. Ok, I gotta go, because, uh...well, I've been awake for about 10 minutes and there's nothing going on in the kitchen and it doesn't appear that a walk or a trip to the dog park or even some ball in the yard is imminent, so I'm going back to sleep.