GRACIE, THE DOG, LIVE AND IN COLOR
GRACIE NO 2.
It’s me when got here two weeks ago.
GRRRacie, the dog.
I can’t stay long … they’re on me like a fifty-year old woman at a Black Friday sale.
Well, I suppose I can’t blame them.
Especially the one with the short hair and the shorter temper.
I shat on his office rug three times yesterday.
Well, once, but in three places.
That was after I had just been outside to poop (is what they call it) and couldn’t do it out there.
It was too cold to put my ass down on the stupid snow…whatever that is.
So they’re all over me about how I shouldn’t shit in the house.
OK, I get it.
It’s not really my fault.
I’m just learning this %#*!
One thing they give me:
I have never done it in my crate (they talk a lot about dogs in general and how, for instance, dogs never poop in their crates, because it is like our den, and all.
…unless, of course it’s a big crate….so maybe that observation gets shot to hell (whatever that is.
I’m learning English, you’ll notice.).
But I do get distracted easily.
Maybe you noticed that too.
I don’t care.
I’m a friggin’ puppy.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot.
After I pooped in the office, the master yelled at me, and took me outside again.
Now, I ask you, what was the point of that?
I had JUST FINISHED on his rug.
But it was too cold to pee out there.
Besides, he scared me a little.
So when I got inside, I was shaking from the cold and maybe the scolding.
And I peed on his office floor.
I heard voices: ”Not good,” the one with the most hair said, my minder.
I can’t repeat what the master said.
Here he comes.