I swear to Dog, the Daddy set me up.
I am not taking the blame for this. It was not my fault. The Mama doesn’t think I actually do these thing unprovoked, does she?! I mean really, I’m a reckless boy and I sometimes have a “devil-may-care” attitude, but I’m not…stupid! The only reason this happened is because the Daddy is a snitch and he set me up in the first place. Set. Me. Up.
I just realized that you have no woofing idea what I am barking about.
Here’s the deal. On Saturday, the Mama went to a new organic grocery store in our neighborhood. She got some tasty stuff there – fresh salsa, roast red pepper pasta sauce, and goat cheese for herself. Organic, non-medicated ground bison & buffalo for us pups and a little something for the whole family: Puffed Quinoa (This isn’t the brand she got, but it’s similar)
I thought I loved quinoa when it was made into Mutt Muffins, but WOOF! I like Puffed Quinoa even better.
I knew as soon as the Daddy opened the bag that I wanted some. He took a handful out, popped a few in his mouth and then tilted the bag towards me, like he was offering me some.
What the woof did he thing was going to happen?!
Um, duh Daddy. I don’t have hands. I don’t have opposable thumbs. I grabbed a bunch of quinoa with the only grabbing apparatus at my disposal.
You don’t mind if I stick my snout in there, do you?
And then all h-e-double-hockey-sticks broke loose. The Mama was so worked up that you would think I tried to lick the roof of her mouth (again). She was snarking at the Daddy about how she had planned to bake with that and how no one except him was going to eat the quinoa after it had a dog snout it in.
Hey, this stuff is great!
I was pretty offended, frankly.
I mean, where does she get off being so high and mighty? Who the woof care if my snout was in the bag. It was just my snout. It was clean. It was tidy. I hadn’t even been licking my own balls.
There she was, just letting her specieism show again
. My own Mama. *sigh* Why can’t I put my snout in the bag, Mama? Is it because I’m a dog? IS IT?!
Once she calmed down, she could see just how funny the whole thing was.
I helped by getting little quinoa puffs stuck all over my face. She thought it was a cute accident, but au contraire, mon frère, I just know how to work it. Big, round, adorable puggle eyes. Silly “accident”. Perplexed expression and obligatory head tilt when she started laughing. You can’t tell me that dogs can’t act. I deserve an Oscar (Meyer Weiner) for that performance!
I’m still mad at the Daddy though.
The Mama was mad as a hatter and things could have gone very differently if I wasn’t so smart and diffused the situation with my dashing good looks and keen wit. The man set. me. up. I’ll make him pay for that. He’s already crossed me once with this little shenanigan.
I’m counting THIS as strike two.
Felix likes it too.
Yeah! Strike two. That was photographic evidence that the Daddy is a repeat offender. One more strike and I don’t know what I’ll do. It won’t be pretty. I don’t like being set up. So to my Daddy, I say this:
You better check yo’self before you wreck yo’self, son.
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