Did they get my good side? Just joshin’. There is no good side to this mug — they’re ALL handsome! That’s the word from my legions of admiring females, anyway. Is it my fault if I landed in the deep end of the gene pool?
Tough job. Some doggie’s gotta do it, might as well be me.
While we’re talking jobs, did you hear I punched in for a short shift at my Dad’s shop the other day? I’ve got stockroom chops, but seriously — I am solid management material. If I wanted to work (and really, I don’t) I could move up the ladder. Short legs or no, the competition would be toast. Besides, I prefer home-based opportunities, where I can really strut this stuff. And there’s PLENTY of supervising to do around this home.
By now you’ve seen the photos of me wearing that crazy plastic cone.What a contraption! I only wear that when my family isn’t around to “supervise” me. (I take exception to that word. Wouldn’t you?) They tried to use a soft cone, but I MacGyver’d my way right through that. When the folks are home, I am in a t-shirt. As long as it’s not pink, I will tolerate it. These stitches are itchy, I’m not gonna lie. Sometimes life’s an itch. What can you do?
Hear tell my brother Tucker said I was acting a bit too big for my britches yesterday. He’s normally a reliable source, and my paw to doG he has a heart of gold, would give you the collar right off his neck, but between you and me, I’m worried he might have overdone it on all the new toys. (Two words: Kong addiction). Just a matter of time ’til I make the call on an intervention, but you didn’t hear it from me. I will deny. I will give you the eye. Mark my bark, you don’t want this eye!
My new orthopedic bed arrived. Gin-yoo-wine Memory Sleeper! Thank you, friends. Those of you who sent $ and participated in the Daily Corgi fundraiser for Tucker’s TLC box will be happy to know that there was SO much money left over (after buying two dozen toys and a bunch of treats), it was no sweat to add this comfy bed for me. A dog’s got to have a few nice things of his own. We all know that. It’s Canine Convalescence 101.
Yesterday morning my Dad was off work, and we played. Really played! I was feeling like my old self, ’til I flopped out cold from exertion. Making up for lost time. Those Kong Wubbas won’t destroy themselves. This is what I mean by home-based work. Easy squeezy.
Over and out, compadres!
Your faithful Defender of Backyards (and little brothers possibly hooked on Kong toys, but you didn’t hear it from me).
Toby the Brave