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It's a Dog's Life

Is there such a thing as jumping too high?

Mom says that there is, but I don't understand why that means we can't play. I keep throwing my ball at her. Why doesn't she throw it back? I'm so sad!!

She doesn't even want to let me outside anymore because I love to run so much and she says the doctor said I'm not supposed to run for TWO WEEKS! TWO WEEKS -- that's like . . . well, dog, that's like nothing I've ever been told before.

Dad took me to the vet this week because I wasn't acting right and they caught me wincing and letting out a little yelp (just a little one, mind you) a couple of times while I chased the ball.

Have I told you how much I love my ball? It's my life. That's how much I love it. The frisbee works, too, but it's really the ball I love. I carry it around in my mouth when mom and dad aren't playing with me, just on the off chance that they might have a minute to throw it.

So Dr. Scott said I'm not supposed to run, but I don't really even know what that means -- something about soft tissue damage, whatever that is -- mom and dad say they're just glad it's not my hips. What are hips? Are they anything like chips? Or my ball? I LOVE MY BALL!

All I know is that I'm getting string cheese twice a day now with a little crunchy thing in the middle that's making me feel better and mom and dad are completely ignoring me when I try to play. Please send them a note and tell them how sad I am that they're not playing with me the way they used to. Send help soon. I beg you.

xoxoxoxoo,

Smokey

Ummmmm. Bed. Good.

You know how sometimes your mom and dad disagree about things? Yep. I thought so. My mom, too. You see, she's a bit of a worry wart. Not *too* bad, you know, but bad enough that when it got a little chilly and she had to leave me alone outside for a couple of hours that she started to worry.

What did she do with that worry, you ask? Well, she channeled it into moving my dog bed from the family room into my dog house and had visions of me all snuggled up in my fluffy warm dog bed until she came back.

But dad had *told* her not to put the dog bed outside. He's a very smart guy. And mom's pretty stubborn. "He'll eat it," dad told mom. But mom didn't listen. Hooray for me!!

I can't *remember* the last time I had so much fun! If you look at my picture, you'll see doggie bed innards ALL over my yard. It was great! I chewed and tore until I got a really nice sized hole in the bed and then went to town dragging all the stuffing out from the inside. The wind did the rest! See how pretty our yard is now that it's covered in dog bed stuffing?

I was really darn happy with myself, but mom didn't seem to pleased. And you know what? That party pooper picked it all up and stuck it in some white sack. Several white sacks, actually. And then she didn't even play ball with me while she did it. Hmmpft. It sure was fun while it lasted, though!

What is she up to now?

Normally, I love this girl, but today I'm not sure that I'm all that crazy about some of her ideas. Take dancing, for instance. Good in theory? Maybe. Who *doesn't* want to be a good dancer, after all? Truthfully, though, I'm hoping that Mom or Dad come around the corner with a popsicle really soon so that I can get out of this mess. Where's my puppy treat?!