It's a Dog's Life

My name is Blue. I'm a Blue Heeler by birth, a crusader and observer by trade. This blog is my observation on life, politics, and of course, the daily trials of a dog's life.

Location: Texas, United States

I'm a four year old Blue Heeler. I'm ferociously protective of Mom, but sometimes I get carried away and snarl at her, which lands me in the dog house. I'm pretty observant, too. Try to sneak into my yard or house at night, and you'll find out just how observant I am.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

It's a Dog's Life

My name is Blue, and I have to tell you, my life is tough. My owners expect me to guard the place day and night, stay away from Daisy (not easy, when she's such a sweet little thing), and follow them around everywhere. I have to sit by their feet while they watch those idiots on TV snipe at each other over this election thing. I'm supposed to keep critters out of the yard, but not get myself hurt.

Tell me something. Who invented those nasty skunks? Twice now I've chased one that got into my yard, and the blasted thing sprayed me in the face with this junk that burns like hell and smells worse. My owner had the nerve to get upset with ME for getting sprayed. Hey, I was just doing my job, you know? To make matters worse, my sweet thing Daisy was the one who got us in trouble in the first place. She took off after the thing and took a hit right in the mouth. I just got it on my muzzle and in my eyes--man, does that sting! Guess who gets all the attention? You got it. Daisy. Mom rinsed her mouth out with this vile smelling vinegar stuff. I guess it worked, because Daisy did stop foaming at the mouth. But did she put any in my eyes? No!

Now Mom won't let us outside at night, or even during the day if she catches a whiff of eau de skunke. Bummer that. How's a dog supposed to mark his territory if he can't even go outside?

Oh, about those idiots on TV. There's this one guy, Kerry, who looks like a real geek. Weird dude there, man. I get this skin crawly thing going on when he comes on the screen. The other one, Bush, looks better but I think he's got deep, dark secrets. Mom and Dad don't want to vote for either one. They don't feel like they got a choice in this election. So Dad says he's just not going to vote. Mom says she's writing in Willie Nelson for President and Toby Keith for Vice President. I could dig that. (Dig it--get it? Nothing more I like better than digging.) Mom says she could see Willie sending planes to Iraq and spraying happy weed smoke over the whole country. Everybody mellows out, war's over, our boys come home. Sounds good to me.



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