Of Sticks...

This is part 2 of a post from yesterday... that was chewed in half once I hit publish. I think the website software is as worn out as I am!



Woof, today I would like to tell you about sticks, yesterday I told you about playing with my pink squeaky bone, but when I'm out on walks in the forest with my Katie she lets me play with sticks. Sticks are great fun, they go crunch and snap when I chew on them.

Sometimes I like to carry the stick by myself, but other times I decide to make a human help me.

Eventually though I am stronger than the weak human and pull the stick out of their hands and run off. I think this is very clever of me. 

Sometimes though the humans tease me, they hold the stick up very high, but really it's a chance to show off what a good jumper I am.

I can jump very very high, and the humans keep telling me I'm middle aged and should calm down, I think this is rubbish, I'm still a fit young thing.

Sometimes we find a huge stick. These sticks are the bestest sticks. I would play with one all day, but the humans won't help me carry it home. They is very mean. My daughter Meg doesn't understand the importance of sticks, or squeaky toys. She only likes balls, I think this is very narrow mnded of her, balls are fun, but so are many other things to play with. At times I wonder how such a stupid dog can be my daughter, she's even scared of aeroplanes, which is very silly of her. 

The humans keep telling me that in a week's time it will be Christmas. I like Christmas as my Mummy doesn't sew, and my Katie doesn't do stuff with wool, and my Nicky comes home from university and we get to go on all the good walks.