Happy 4th of July

7:21 a.m. on a Sunday is a good time to wake up. Full body stretch, a few yawns and I’m ready to go. Nobody moved. Just me. Cute dog begging tricks didn't work. What if I sniff Michael’s hand?

“No, Pish. Off the bed.”

(Note to file… the word NO just won’t transfer from my short term memory to long term memory. Weird, huh?)

Forced to stand on top of Diana, I pounced with my front legs and whined. No go. No getting up. She was listening to the blinking blue box. The same one she swears at Monday thru Friday. But today was different. The voices were taking turns faster.

(Visualize my very confused face here…)

“Pish, be quiet.”

Excuse me? Something more important than me? What was so important? What were they saying? I didn’t get it. All I heard was:

“…blah, blah…certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

Maybe Buddy was awake. Sighing heavily, I threw myself off the bed in pursuit of my own happiness.

Buddy hangs out all the time in the shiny wall in the bathroom. I like her ok enough. She looks like me. But she’s rude. She won’t play with the toys I drop in front of her. She barks all the time. Barks over me when I’m trying to explain how to play. What’s her problem?

Eventually, after hours and hours of sheer doggie boredom, (ok, maybe 5 minutes) Diana was up, leash in hand. Out the door we went. I hit the streets running hard. Rainy - Cold - July - no biggie.

Ah, ha. There you are furry rodent fiend!  Today you are mine.

Screech. Argh. Halted in mid-jump. What the heck? THE SHORT LEASH!

(Here it comes…light bulb moment…wait for it…yep…now…)

This insufferably short leash is interferring with my inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness...and squirrels...and raccoons...and dogs that are bigger than me. I deserve to be free and independent.  This yoke, the short leash, must be abolished.

Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I should be focused on the inalienable right part instead of the pursuit part, but I’M A DOG.

^ . . ^


No comments: