Traumatized. By swimmers.

May 17.  THE day to celebrate my human.  Is it her birthday?  No.  Is she retiring?  No.  Fat chance.  It's not Christmas.  Or World Pet Owner day.  It is....Pack Rat Day.   And she will be SO annoyed that I am saying this.  But let's face it, she IS a pack rat.  Now don't jump to conclusions that our house could be featured on the reality TV show "Hoarders" - it is NOT THAT bad.  But she does collect things.  I've talked about it before.  And I ALSO mentioned that she was on a Spring cleaning binge - and a selling spree.  And she HAS managed to get rid of some stuff.  The dog ramp for the car that none of us ever used, the automatic dog feeder - which would have been useless with me and Velcro dog if we ever managed to a hold of it, a leather carting harness...  Hey.  All of the stuff was dog stuff so far.  What's with THAT?  How about I go in the mystery closet and pick some things to sell.  See how she likes that!

And speaking of not liking things.  I was traumatized last night.  It was THE first time I EVER had to stay in the house by myself.  For an HOUR and a HALF.  Velcro dog had an appointment at the Vet and my human didn't want to take both of us.  So the question: would I be more happy waiting in the vehicle, or in the house?  She opted for the house.  You see, living in the three dog household has meant that no dog has ever been left behind.  Until last night - because we are no longer a three dog household.  Well I survived.  My human loaded three treat dispensing toys with food, and honestly, I didn't even CARE that they were leaving me.  But when they got home, I acted all sheepish. My human thought it was because I was nervous being alone.  Nope.  I was sheepish because I pooped on the stairs.   One could argue that I was nervous on my own, but honestly, I was just mad because they left me.  

I have NO idea why Velcro dog went to the Vet.  I heard something about good swimmers.  Velcro dog doesn't even LIKE the water so WHAT was going on?  All I know is that he came home with a smile on his face. And I was traumatized.  Or I pretended to be.

No Vet appointments for today.  THANK goodness.  I'm sure I'll get over this traumatic experience.  Just give me 15 more biscuits, and I'll forget it ever happened.  Maybe.

 Now.  When do I get to go swimming?

©  Linda Wozniak