The mom-woman. She writes sap. She doesn’t tell the truth. She hates beetles and slugs and never plays with them. That’s dumb. She sprays water on plants but I do that too, so she is wasteful.
I never pee on her, but I do stick out my tongue. She doesn’t know how things really are. I tell you how it really is.
She goes into the woods and doesn’t take me. She says it’s because I kill chipmunks. And rabbits. And snakes. So what? This is good. I do good.
These are the people I live with.
The big-girl-I-love-the-most went away during the sunshine days. Then she came back. She spoke Italian. At least she said it was Italian. I don’t know what that is. The other dogs don’t know either. I was brave enough to ask them because I really wanted to know. I don’t think they like me.
The big-boy-who-makes-me-pee went away. Then he came back. He still makes me pee when he comes near, but I bite his ankles so he won’t know that I’m afraid.
The younger-boy-who-used-to-make-me-pee is now allowed to pat me. I’ve known him for 35 dog years and now it is time for him to rub my belly. But I still bite his ankles. I must make him afraid.
The man-I-bite-the-most still feeds me breakfast and cookies. I think if I bite him more, he will give me more. This is how it works.
They are all getting ready for the cold time. I know because they all have new shoes. The new shoes taste good. Pretty soon, life will be like this:
I can’t wait.