What a dog is thinking when you yell at it.
I sat there, a little confused, the eiderdown feathers tickling the inside of my mouth. “Bad dog!” she yelled, shaking her finger at my nose. She must have had a cheeseburger for lunch. I can smell it on her hands. Oh, I love cheeseburgers. I wish I had a cheeseburger right now instead of these feathers. They don’t taste too good and frankly, I’m not sure why I decided to chew on the down comforter in the first place. I don’t remember things too well. I mean, after all, I’m just a dog. Maybe I thought it was a marshmallow. Maybe I thought it was another big piece of toast with marshmallow fluff on the top like Billy’s lunch I ate yesterday. Yesterday? Maybe it was two days ago. Boy, was he pissed about that. He took me to the park later, though, so I’m assuming we’re good. Oh, I really really really want to go to the park again. I love running around. “BAD DOG. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” No, lady, I’m just sitting here because I can’t walk through you. Jeez. Let me out of this room, I’m thirsty. Ooh…there’s a squirrel outside. That’s the same squirrel from yesterday! HEY! HEY SQUIRREL! ONE OF THESE DAYS, I’M GOING TO GET YOU. KEEP COMING IN MY YARD. YOU JUST KEEP DOING THAT AND SEE HOW LONG YOU LAST.
