Sometimes on Saturday, after a perfect morning filled with an exhilarating morning walk followed up with a kick-ass breakfast made up of our favorite kibble and roast turkey, we like to get our cra-za-zy on and hurl ourselves into the cozy blankets that bring us so much joy, all the while saying to our Mom and Dad, Thank You Thank You Thank You for making us so deliriously happy.
Yours In Slobberey Gratitude,
Cooper of the Quite Content
852. 2:34 AM pee-pees
853. Commercials about french fries
Caught in an air duct and worrying about Bonnie Bedelia, the balding superstar wonders if he should join an exclusive hair club for men.
Sometimes on Saturday, after an unfortunate early morning run-in with the pony sized Shar Pei that reminds us of Dracula, we like to spend the afternoon glued to our lookout post upstairs—watching and waiting for his re-emergence so that we can alert our parents, and the entire city for that matter, that we are under siege.
Stand Back Ma’am I’ll Take Care Of This,
Detective Pete Paranoid
Maniacal Staring Division
Barking Precinct #67
Not that I’m an expert on the afterlife or anything, but if you are in your car at a stop light waiting to make a right turn on a red light and a lovely mommy pushing her lovely baby in a stroller is trying to cross the street in front of you and you gun your freakishly red Mustang motor and challenge her to a game of chicken, making the lovely baby cry and the lovely mother jump out of her skin, I’m quite certain that you’re on the short list to go straight to hell where you will live your life as a legless hamster.
Assfaces Are as Assfaces Do,
Tammy Traffic Cop