Yesterday, I did poo-poo at around 5 am in the morning. Then, I did another poo-poo after breakie. Then, another little one during the walkies and then then, the last poo-poo of the day after din-dins. All poo-poos were very good ones.
Mummy said that maybe having had a bath made my tummy active.
Yes, I think so, mummy.
Daddy said….daddy said….daddy said….
Woof, what daddy said to me was very cruel.
I have been good.
I did a couple of activities as a therapy doggie this month.
I never complain when we have to do modelling for daddy. I sit tight as long as daddy wants us to do so.
Repeatedly, here and there.
I look after Silky. I encouraged her when we were having the bath, didn’t I, Silky?
And yet, when mummy explained how I pooed well, daddy looked down at me and said
“OH MY GOD!! YOU ARE FULL OF S**T, AREN’T YOU?”
That moment, I felt numb. Mummy said something but I couldn’t hear anything. It was as though I was in some empty dark space all on my own. Daddy, the love of my life, said that into my face.
I don’t know how you sleep at night, daddy.