Related as he told me.
10. There aren't as many doggies here.
Back at our old home there were dozens of other doggies in the
building and their smells lingered in hallways and in the tiny
elevator. Going for a walk was like a meet and greet where butt
sniffing and leg-humping were frequent, nay, expected. Here in our
new home there's only one other dog, a stuck-up Golden Retriever and
a rodent, some kind of yip-yap thing impostering as a dog. It's too
small and “roll over sniff my belly” to really be a dog.
9. The new mailman is mean. He stays
in his little truck when I'm out with my daddy, instead of talking to
me and throwing me biscuits like the old mailman did. The old
mailman was my best friend, he'd ask me how I was doing and throw a
biscuit, then he'd pet my head and throw me a biscuit, then he'd tell
me to sit, speak, shake and whatnot, all followed by the throwing of
the biscuit. No one here in the new place throws me biscuits except
daddy and he had to go get the special mailman kind of biscuits just
to remind me of my best friend, the mailman. I miss him.
8. The landings on the stairs are too
slippery. I like running down the stairs with my leash in my mouth
to show daddy how important it is to get outside as soon as possible,
but the landings are slidy and I lose control. Right after moving
here I slipped once and hurt my paw and daddy had to take me to the
vet and get me some doggie Vicadin. I liked the doggie Vicadin but
not the hurting paw that caused me to limp around and whine when I
got up. I get up every time daddy does because I have to make sure
he's safe and protected. I walk everywhere he does and watch him
and when my paw hurt I had trouble keeping up. Usually I can stay
ahead of old daddy cause he's slow and I can even walk round him in
circles until he says, “Dog get out of the fucking way.” Then I
know I'm doing a good job cause I'm close enough, but when my paw
hurt I could only follow behind.
7. This place is just too big for us.
Our family fit cozy in the old place with a single bedroom to keep
the kids corralled into – I knew where they were and it only took a
sniff at the door every half hour to inventory them. Daddy's desk was in the living room and he'd sit there while Mommy was just a few feet away watching T.V. I could lounge by the
door and keep an eye on everyone. That made my job easy. Here there
are rooms and rooms and there's more than one way to get from the
living room to the kitchen, so I have to be alert at all times. By
the end of the evening I'm exhausted. Hell, Daddy's in his office,
Mommy's in the living room and the kids are spread out from the
dining room to their rooms. On top of that there are two doors. These people can escape out the front or the back. Every noise sends me scurrying around to
make sure I know where everyone is. It's really not fair. I think I
need some backup. I'll have to speak to Daddy and Mommy about going
and getting a Sarge Jr. that I can train to watch some of the brood.
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