It's dog abuse, that's what it is. I've only been on ONE car ride this whole month. It's not fair! Mom & Dad went to look at some stupid plaque and did your boy get to go along? Nooooo! And they went to some place called City Park to watch some stupid fireworks show that lasted a whole eleven minutes. Did I get to go? Nooooo!
Okay. Mom did take me along when she went to the transfer station yesterday. I like doing that. Lots and lots of dogs get to ride along on the trash run. Us pups get to woof at each other, just saying hello. We're not allowed to get out of our vehicles right there. But that was yesterday, and Mom did not take me along two weeks ago when she took the trash to put in the big bin.
And last Sunday when you burned the brush pile? Did little Deucie get to sit in the truck with you? No. I could have had a really nice nap by the fire, but noooo. You were even proud of leaving me inside with Dad. I won't forget this slight!
And how long ago was it you blogged for me? Weeks!!!
Mom just reminded me I've had some really good Frisbee time this past week. Sure, Mom. Try and make your boy look ungrateful. Why don't you go weed whack along the creek, huh? It's getting a little overgrown down there. I might run into a snake, you know. That would not be fun.
I'm going on strike!
No more deer patrol! No more squirrel patrol! No more barking to let you know a delivery truck is coming in the lane!
I want to go for a decent ride in the car and I want to go TODAY!
Please, Mom? Please?
Deuce's Day, black Labrador Retriever, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce, rural living, fire, good dogs, country dog, a writer's life, blogs about dogs