WHAT I AM.
They are saying what kind of dog I am.
The creatures I live with say they are people and I am a dog.
I’m a cross, they say.
(NOTE: I am not cross—well, sometimes when I growl at some of my toys.)… but they say that I am a cross… a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Poodle.
I think that means I’m a mixture.
Not sure if that means I’m a bastard.
So, anyway, a Golden Retriever and a French Poodle, maybe.
Although I don’t speak French. I don’t speak anything but dog really.
But I can read and write in English.
The creature with the deep voice and the short temper that I live with calls me a cross between a Golden Reliever and a Piddle.
Well, I did pee on the floor today.
NO, no I don’t mean that. I don’t mean poo.
I shat. I mean ”shit” like the creatures say when they drop something.
Or if something goes wrong in their lives.
OK, I got distracted there.
That happens a lot.
I think I am part French Poodle but I understand there are Russian poodles.
They used to be guard dogs.
Maybe that’s where I get part of my charming disposition. (Says the male creature.)
But what do I know. I could be part Russian poodle.
That would be cool.
But not cooler than that snow.
Snow is that white cold stuff that came last week.
It’s all gone now, thank God (whatever that is.)
GRRRacie, the dog.
P.S. (OK I know a little Latin, too.)
In the pic above you can see part of a fence.
I’ll tell you about that some time!