Monday, 3 December 2012

Day One Hundred and Thirty Nine

I am not magic. My blue ball broke. I put a hole in it.  I can not carry it around anymore. That is sad.

Zita says that if I get Niamh to write my Santa list she thinks I will get a new big ball for Christmas. That is good. Maybe it will be Red.

Last night I chased them all around the house with my rope. I am much faster if I am holding something in my mouth. My blue bone works best. That is how I catch Emmet.

Emmet is studying for all his tests to see if he can remember everything. I know lots - Mr. Kipling was not a Punic and he did not break any houses. I listen when Emmet reads his essays. It is known.

I could go to the university if I could drink coffee.

It was so rainy yesterday that Craig only threw my Red Ball once. That is sad. Today he threw it lots. Then I had carrot treats.

Zita says I need a warmer cape. Maybe Santa will bring me one. I hope it is tartan so I can still  pretend to be Scottish. When I am Scottish I get to bark at all the English dogs Craig says. I don't know why though.

Barking is good. Zita says I bark too much at silly things. I do not

A man put up a sign on my corner and didn't ask if he could so I barked at him a lot. I got in a bit of trouble. Oh well.

Then he took it away so I barked at him some more. Oh well.

It is hard being a dog. Even for me.

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