Everybody slept in. Except Zita and me.
On my walks I get salt in between my toes and it hurts. Zita gets a wet cloth to wipe them. I will be glad when the flowers are here again.
Last night I just found out Zita is going way far away to Ireland.
It is not like when she goes off with her Eat-In-Nice-Restaurants friends. It is for many nights. Across the ocean. In an airplane. Oh dear.
That is confusing. Who will take care of her when she is way over there? I can not go. It is too far. And I am in charge here when she is away.
Maybe Tilly can be her dog when she is far away. Tilly is not so big as me. Oh dear.
What will they eat when Zita is away? They will run out of peanut butter. They will starve. Who will take me for my walks in the early morning? Oh dear.
I will have to talk to Jamie. Jamie is a sensible dog. Maybe she will know about this.
More things to worry about. It is hard being a dog.
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