Oh. Hello there. I was just busy figuring out my fantasy football team. A guy’s gotta have paw in the game. Do I look worried? Win or lose, I still get my post-game snooze. Them’s the rules!
It’s been over a month since I told my tale here on The Daily Corgi. Since then, we got a hill of holiday cards and gifts in the mail (sniff-spected by yours truly), the VCA hospital staff got their share of cards and kudos (don’t know who sniff-spected there), and the toys you fine people sent have been broken in, drooled on and fought over.
Oh, and that new bed? Two words: Nap hard. Nap hard, my friends!
Although we (that’s me and little brother Tucky) are grateful for all the love, we take no guff from the household sofa patrol. Word to the wise: neither should you. These cushions were made for dogs. Who do you think tests them out down at the factory? That’s right, sweetheart. Those hard working stiffs get no money for their troubles. Naps? Oh sure, we accept that as currency. Anything edible is better.
Hint to your humans: a tip jar for full of treats greases a lot of wheels. A whole lot. You play ball, we play ball, everybody gets what they need. And we get the sofa. We always get the sofa!
On the health front, I am fit as a fiddle on a Friday night. Except for the hitch in my ‘Git Along. We figure maybe some nerve damage and being laid up for so long and had me wobbling a bit in the back end when exiting the sofa in a hurry.
Correct that, my sofa.
Did you know they have chiropractors for dogs? Great day in the morning! I let them get their hands on me, check to see if there was anything loose in the caboose. There is nothing major wrong with me. I could’ve told ’em that, but who listens to a Corgi? Oh that’s right, EVERYBODY listens! But I humored them. I mean, they have to feel useful in their line of work too, right? It never hurts to humor the humans.
Words to the wiseacres, Corgi Nation.
On a more serious note.
I can now fetch my ice cream cone squeaky six to seven times without needing a break. Which means the ol’ horsepower is coming back. I only have a slight limp when I overdo it. Let’s discuss “overdoing it”. The floor is open for your remarks. I will read all comments, especially the ones from other Corgis. I am a Dog of the People, and represent as such.
Anyway, if it were up to me (and really, shouldn’t it be?), I would go and go. And go again. No need to put the brakes on fun, is there? Show me the man who made that rule and I will show you a buffoon. Tucker’s with me on that one. He’s had a spot of trouble adjusting to my reduced activity level. Reduced, schmedoosed. Let’s get back on the ball field already!
Did you know I have a squishy spot in my big, stout heart for cats? My BFF pre-Tucker was Monkey, and he was a cat. I hear the woman who takes my bark-taction for this blog is a cat lover. I knew I liked her. When I saw a photo of her wearing her cat hat, I had an overwhelming urge to show her my ice cream cone.
You know, the squeaky one? A guy can dream.
Well. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. Life has returned to near normal for me. Tucker still worries too much, but his worry face gets the ladies cooing. If you think that’s a coincidence, you’d be wrong. But I say nothing, because he’s a good kid. And a guy is lucky to have a good kid like that around. And really … he has learned from the master, has he not? I mean, how many ladies sent me (OK, us) cards? And dough! And photos of pretty girls! Girl dogs, of course. I will not use the B word, as it’s unbecoming of a gent like me. Now, dames, dishes, dolls, those are perfectly fine substitutes.
On that happy note, my friends, I bid you adieu-aroooo. That bed isn’t going to fur itself up anytime soon. A Corgi’s work is never done.
Love and biscuits,