Not the most eventful week.
The highlight was running through the creek at the park. Playing in the water is pretty freaking awesome. My human thought so, too, because she was cheering me on. At least, that’s what it sounded like to me. I couldn’t really hear, though, what with all the splashing. (Kristin: That was not the sound of me cheering. Trust me.)
A few days later, I visited Pet Smart for the full treatment. I got a bath and a blowout and a mani-pedi, and even got my ears cleaned. Glorious! My human couldn’t stop oohing and aahing over how soft and fluffy I was. She keeps sticking her nose in my fur and smelling me. But this pink bandana. Oof.
My human has developed this annoying habit of putting me in a cage in the morning. She said something about wanting to sleep later and blurted out some words I didn’t understand. Next thing I knew, I was in a cage. Now it’s our morning ritual. Just great. (Kristin: Hey, look. Just because you want to start your day at 5 a.m. doesn’t mean the rest of us want to.)
I love tags. Tags on towels, tags on new clothes, tags, tags, tags. Love ’em! I also love to cuddle with my human’s shoes. And socks. And, basically anything she wears. She says it’s “creepy,” whatever that means.
I met another German Shepherd this week. He’s big and he’s all black. We wrestled and pounced on each other and rolled around in the grass. My human said that was “just great” since I’d just had a bath. Oops.
Did I mention how much I love newspaper? Whenever I see it, I snatch a piece of it, run away and shred it to pieces in about 2.6 seconds. I’m pretty proud of myself and I can only assume that stomping is my human’s way of praising my skills.
I also learned that I can run up the chair, onto the very top and almost make it over the railing on the stairs. So close! It’s only a matter of time til I find my way around the gate. I bet my human will be proud of me for that as well.
I can stop traffic. In fact, I did about four times just this week. Four! One lady stopped her car right in the middle of the street when she saw me in the yard and asked if I was a German Shepherd. She had a German accent and kept gushing about how pretty I was. I blushed but I don’t think anyone could tell.
The cats are still being coy. They pretend they don’t want to play with me, but I know they really do. As you can see in this picture, Mortimer clearly wanted to wrestle. I just don’t understand why she spits at me when I want to wrestle.