Being so cute and all. But I'm not. I have recently been entrusted to venture outside the front door without a leash to do my business on Daddy's front lawn. The routine has always been to walk to the lawn, pee, and return inside. I have done it approximately four hundred and ninety seven thousand times on a leash. I am quite familiar with it. It is not a complicated routine.
Starting a few weeks ago Mommy felt she had to believe I was smart enough to do it without the leash. She tried. I was. This went well for 2 weeks. Then I decided I needed more spice in my life. Yesterday I dashed out the door a little too quick and began shrilly crazy-barking (the bark that lifts my whole body off the ground with each self-important yap). I waited a moment and when no challenge presented itself and no startled squirrels or bewildered birds fled, I charged the sidewalk aggressively to try and drum up some drama from there. In the pose of a lion warrior, I swept my head from side to side, thrusting out my mighty chest- ready to fight, to attack, to hump, (be the presenting situation what it may). Silence and stillness met my display of obvious superiority over all things living and otherwise. With a glance at my shoeless mommy and a gleam in my evil eye, I shot off down the road on legs ablur.
Daddy was sent to fetch me because shoelessness doesn't impede his speed.
Mommy gave me one more chance that night. I repeated the exercise but this time she caught me because I stopped to poop at the corner.
I was re-booked and sentenced (by no jury of my peers!) - life on a leash with no parole. We'll see about that- my cuteness works wonders on the gullible.
1 day ago
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