How does Kristina not understand that I don’t like baths?
Look at me. This is my best pathetic look. Even as a puppy I knew how to look sad.
Still here we are, almost 5 years later and she’s still giving me baths.
She talks about how the organic, chemical free shampoo is good for my skin. It even has oatmeal in it, like I care.
Just because I was running on the beach this morning, she decided I needed to be clean before I got on the boat.
Any advice on how I avoid future baths?
Woof Woof.
Farley here.
I like to think I’m brave, but I get the shakes when the skies are shaking. I don’t understand the booming that penetrates my body or the flashes of light that make me squint. I tried to hide, but there was no where to go.
My human, Kristina, has endless patient. I signal to her to follow me, and she does. I check out every room at the cottage. To my amazement the thunder is in every room. I thought if I hid in the back bedroom, I could get away from it. Not such luck.
My peeps won’t coddle me when I’m afraid, but Kristina’s so smart. She grooms me. She thinks she’s tricking me by performing a mundane task to distract me. I know what she’s doing and yet, it works. She pulls the brush gently down my back in repetitive motions and I find myself calming down.
When the storm finally passes, I crash. I get so tired when I’m stressed. Sometimes a dog just needs a nap and to dry out.
Woof Woof.
Farley here.
One of the most important things a dog does is choose his humans. Humans often think they choose the dog. But any good dog knows it’s not true. Even some cats know this.
The human my choose a breeder or shelter to visit, but when I ask my dog friends they all say the same thing.
They know instinctively which human will be a match. And then here’s what you do:
At that point they can’t resist.
I love my humans. I always seem to bark about Kristina, so here’s Matt picking a burr out of my paw. All I have to do is look sad, give him my best brown eyed stare, hold my paw in the air, and tada! I am taken care of. I don’t even have to bark.
I could tell the first time I saw Matt that he was the guy for me.
Woof Woof
Farley here.
Some things change. Some things don’t.
Kristina brushed my hair today, and I noticed it was all blond. I don’t look in a mirror very often, so I was a little surprised.
I’m pretty sure I was born brown and black, and I don’t die my hair . . . so what the heck?
I guess my hair changed colour. But what didn’t change?
You can see by the photo below, where I’m 8 weeks old, I’m not exactly excited by a ball. Well I’m still not.
Sometimes my owners throw a ball for me, and I might chase it, but I will never pick it up. How humiliating. That’s for humans to do.
Do you pick up a ball for your owner?
Woof Woof
Creative Story Editors 