I was at the groomers for three hours and no one would let me pee! I'm old; I need to do that more often now that I'm on heart medication. They'd pick me up and carry me here and there---the bathing tub, the blow-dry table, the cutting table, the waiting cage---and never once did my feet touch the floor. Even Mom, when she came to get me,
carried me out to the car. Well, every dogaroon knows you can't pee in a car but the minute Mom set me down in the garage, I just let it go. And did I go. I created the Yellow River of No Return.Speaking of garages, my folks brought home an interesting essence last week. It was the same smell as that wonderful black creature with the white stripe down its back that roams through our yard sometimes at night. I call that a nice barking opportunity and every time I give her the hi-nice-to-see-you-again bark she treats me to her perfume.
Last week, I was all around and under the car looking for my black and white friend, my mom yelling at me the whole time to get away from the vehicle. For two days every time I'd go outside and pass through the garage on the way to my fire hydrant I'd take a side trip around the car. The third day my folks took the car away and it came home smelling like soap suds.
Someday I'll tell you about how I came to get my own, personal fire hydrant in my backyard. ©
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