Today was our dry run for the long drive to Montana. Can’t have a wiggly whining doggie for hours in the car, so I tried half of one of the pills the vet recommended. Poor little boy–slightly nervous but VERY sleepy. He managed to stay awake, just barely, and spent a couple of hours in the car while I ran errands. Very sweet, but not my usual perky guy!
I have visions of Chewy as an old man doggie, cuddled in my lap with no energy. Nice, but now I’m waiting for him to start barking at lawnmowers, demanding I try to get the ball away from him, and standing by the treat drawer with that look of royalty in his eyes.
Chewy: So we’re at my favorite park and I find a yummy ball. It’s all fuzzy and wet and earthy and I’m having a jolly time ripping off the fuzz. I let her throw it for me a few times, but that fuzz is just so stinky and wonderful, I’d rather just chew on it. Only I look at another dog who is sniffing me and she grabs the ball and throws it over the fence! She holds up a different ball and throws it, but I know it just doesn’t smell or taste as good. I WANT MY BALL BACK! Can you help me get over that fence? Or around that fence? Or could you go get the ball for me? Pleeeeeeeze?