Ahem. Dog. Yes, you. That particular area in which you are *ahem*; digging, was not preapproved for your excavating services. In fact you are dangerously close to some underground electrical cabling and I suggest you BACK OFF.Oh, she is good. I think I mentioned recently something about a little -rat-a-tat-tat- incident? Perhaps it was just a little Ratinator reference. Meet: The Ratinator.
The thing is. She doesn't really know what she is digging for. China by the looks of it! She has gotten me on more than one occasion. I mean she really thinks there's something in those freaking holes. Sometimes, Dog, they are just holes. Holes YOU create no less.
In the country I don't recommend you go off all willy nilly running around the yard like some school girl in a country meadow breeze. First of all, it's never a breeze. Second of all, you'll twist your ankle in those crazy diggin' dog holes.
It's a bit like watching Caddy Shack when she's around. Once, just once, I said, What's In The Hole. And out popped a rat. A big, fat, city rat! rat-a-tat-MOM. I won't recall the details of what happened next, but Rips got an extry dog treat that night.
But let's get back to the extraneous hole digging. You are to dig on command. MY command. Yes, I know it's YOUR yard, but I have to clean up YOUR mess, in more ways than one. I win. Quit diggin', you dig?
No comments:
Post a Comment