Man-oh-man I’ve been tired this week. The people-puppy is gone, but it seems like every time I settle in to sleep, I need to bark at another snapping twig or sighing mouse in the neighborhood. And then when I do, Mom keeps me up with her yelling to shut up. So by the time the alarm goes off, I’ve been up half the night shouting. On this morning’s run, I sure was dragging. Mom didn’t need to take me back to the vet after the booby trapped toy I tore up last week, but I’m still run down from all the excitement. We had an anxious moment a few days ago when she and NotMom were poking at my tummy and saying I felt bloated and distended, but then they took me outside and I took a monster pee. Then they realized that my tummy was fine, they were just poking at my pee pooch.
Despite not feeling my best, Mom and I wound up running right behind a Friend who was going just a little faster than us. I decided that this would be a good teaching moment, and I’d show Mom how to race for the last mile and a half. I dragged her after that Friend, accelerating gradually. I wanted her to feel the heat of the chase until we passed her at a full-blown sprint. As we ran by, I looked at the Friend and grinned, “Sayanara, suckah!” Meanwhile, Mom sounded like she was going to collapse behind me. Luckily when we passed, we were only about 20 yards from the end of my patrol, so I only had to drag Mom a little further before we could turn out of her sight and I could coax Mom home through the neighborhood at a more people-friendly pace.
I don’t think Mom likes racing much…
–Oscar the Pooch