Doggie in the Dumps!

I haven’t written because I didn’t feel well. That isn’t exactly the truth. I was upset.

Last week Papa took me with him on his errands, and to see some customers. I really liked getting out of the house. He would hold me as we drove from place to place. Sometimes I would get sleepy, but I really liked it all.

This week he hasn’t taken me and I am not happy. When he is getting ready to leave, I shout at him, barking my fool head off, but he just says nice things. I know he isn’t going to take me, I can tell by his eyes. Oh, he picks me up and kisses me and hugs, but it is always the same. He leaves and I stay.

While he is gone I fume. I swear that when he comes back he will regret it. I will never look at him or talk to him again, ever.

But… when I hear the key in the door, my darn tail starts wagging. When it opens my feet run to him and I shake all over. He can hardly hold me. It is so blasted embarrassing, but I can’t control myself. What is wrong with me, why can’t I stay angry?

Maybe humans should take a hint from us dogs, we always forgive and love.

I’m tired. I guess I’ll go see if Papa is ready for bed. It’s his shift, but that too is another story.

Later,

Woodie