We dogs had a contest to see who could hogtie Foster Mum the fastest and lock her in the closet first. I won, which means I get to be blog boss today.
I'm Popeye, in case you've forgotten. And I know you covet these ears.
Crazy Lady just had major surgery yesterday and will have to go through an intense regiment of therapy afterwards, so her dog Sugar (who was one of Foster Mum's fosters) is staying with us. She's from Taiwan, just like me. We're almost twins, except I'm a manlier specimen of studliness.
Scary, huh? To know that there are two of us out there!
You know who should really be scared? Phoebe the pitbull! Her ankles will never know a moment of peace now!
Just like old times.
Why is there a picture of the dogs' asses here?
Ah, that was the picture I was looking for. Don't we all look happy here? Well, don't fall for it! That's just a Photoshop trick of Foster Mum's. She starves us on just 7.5 lbs of freshly ground raw meat and vegetables a day. Where are the dog treats I say! What, that 1 slab of dehydrated jerky doesn't count! The biscuits don't either. And carrots are for rabbits. Do I look like a rabbit?
Now do I look like a rabbit??
And she's a slave-driver, always expecting us to perform herculean feats like "sit, " "down," "go to bed," and the very worst of all, "stay." Over and over, every day. Aren't there laws against dog labor? We're pooped!
It's not as bad for me, Phoebe, and Boomer--we're used to it now. But Sugar, well, just look at her.
She's fainted! From starvation and exhaustion!
"Uh, dude, can I get up now?"
"Pssstt, not yet! Get back down!"
Where was I? Oh yeah, starvation and exhaustion! Somebody help us get outta here while there's still time. Or better yet, send some treat relief! A couple of extra toys wouldn't come amiss either.
Uh oh, I hear Foster Mum coming. She must've gotten loose. Boomer is sure going to get in trouble when I blame everything on him.