Ok, Gramama says that Coco is a dog. I am a dog, my Mom and Dad are dogs. Of the three dogs I know, none of us weigh over 6 pounds. Coco is HUGE. She weighs 70 pounds, has a head bigger than my whole body and when she barks? That's a bark? Are you kidding me? That noise is deep and really, really loud. A bark is a delicate little yip that is shrill enough to bust an eardrum. Coco's bark is indescribable.
Coco is also not thrilled to have me in the house. What the heck is wrong with that dog? Everyone knows you HAVE to love me. I'm adorable, for crying out loud. When I get tired of sleeping, I trot on over to Coco and get in her face. She gets up and walks away! How rude! Who wouldn't want my sharp little nails and sharp little teeth caressing them?
Well, the way to Coco's heart is twofold. First, persistence. I just keep coming back. Each time she tolerates me a little longer. Before long she will come find me to play. Second, and this is very important. I ignore MY food and eat hers. So what if it's as big as my mouth? One piece lasts a while and Coco doesn't want it anyway. She devising ways to get in my crate to get the food I'm ignoring. G says she's going to lock us in a room and when she comes back she'd better find two happy dogs. Hey! I'm happy!
Hey, Mom & Dad? You did tell G that my name is Willow, right? She keeps calling me another name - ummmmm - Puddles? You didn't change my name without telling me, did ya?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment