It’s a Hard Knock Life:
Boy, a dog’s life is tough! My daddy was sick all this past week (he’s better now, thank goodness) and I never realized how hard it is to open a can of dog food. First I tried using the can opener like I saw my daddy do, but have you ever tried to turn that little knob thing while squeezing the handles together when all you got are PAWS?
Well, that didn’t work, so I took the can and kept batting it against the wall; I figured that I could make it pop open. Guess what? It didn’t work. By this time, my stomach was starting to call me every name in the book. I ran into the bedroom to see if daddy was getting up. NOPE! There he was with a bandanna tied tightly around his head and sound asleep (the poor dear).
By the third day, things were really getting out of hand. I was so hungry that my daddy started to look like a big delicious steak. I started to check things out around the kitchen and discovered some interesting scrapes of food in the kitchen waste basket, so, needless to say, I swallowed my pride and those scrapes of food.
Then, I had to go to the bathroom, and I held it and held it. I had to go so bad that I was doing dances that I didn’t even know existed. I ran into the bedroom and there was daddy, still sleeping but at least he didn’t have that stupid bandanna on. But he still wasn’t getting up. Man what to do, I was hungry again and I had to go real baaaaaad, so I did the only thing a girl could do under such circumstances, I jumped up on the bed, stood right next to daddy and cut a poofer. It worked, that smell had him up and out of that bed so fast it wasn’t funny. He ran and opened the door and let me out. What a relief.
When I came back in, I found that daddy had cleaned up the garbage mess I made in the kitchen, then he filled up my food dish and fell back to sleep on the sofa, so I jumped up and curled up next to him and went to sleep and I couldn’t help thinking that when he gets a migraine, boy does he look like something the cat dragged in.
But I’m glad he is better because that diet was killing me.
See ya all next week, Lord willing and the Creek don’t rise
“Munchkin”
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