Tales from the Bark Side

I've been slimed

I was recently traumatized by a slobbering, snorting, overly-affectionate Doberman Pincher on Valentine's Day.

Hey, I know I'm one handsome stud and all, but I don't swing that way and he was way too tall for me. Mommy and Daddy took me and Liz out to Fort Woof on the national day of luv. It was pretty cool - except for Slimer's attention. Mommy put me up on the picnic table with her while Liz and Daddy played a bunch.

I watched a lot of the puppies play under our table. Every time I'd go get down to say hello to the little dudes Slimer and the BIG dogs would start chasing me. In the infamous words of Bravo TV's Top Chef I wanted to say, "I'm not your b*tch, b*tch." But, I didn't.

After a while, Mommy, Daddy and Lizzie and me went to the far end of the park away from Slimer and the other rowdy brats...um... I mean dogs. Daddy tried to teach Lizzie how to go through the tunnels. She just kept going around it. I did it though. I mean, I don't see what the big deal is. Anyway.

It was cool hanging out with Daddy at the park because he didn't get frustrated when I pooped a lot like he does when we go on walks. Of course Mommy had to do that nasty pick up the poop thing every time I went. What is it with that woman? Anyway. Got a good work out trying to run and keep up with Liz and Daddy. Got tons of ear scratches and belly rubs for running so super fast. That's right...I ran. Then we went home and I crashed and burned.

Speaking of...a nap sounds pretty sweet right about now. Think I'll go snag a bone and catch some Zs.