Dear God,My name is Pooh King, and I am a bad dog. Not just a little bad either. Really bad. And repeatedly bad.
You see, it was like this...
It was Thursday. I was home alone. Well, not alone really, I was with that dumpster cat. Anyway, I was hungry for something sweet. My bowl of food really wasn't doing it for me. I saw the treat bin. I couldn't help myself. I decided the beating would totally be worth it. So, I got out my retractable thumbs ('cause I have them) and opened the storage bin my treats are stored in. The silly two-legger left the bin in the living room, thinking I couldn't get into it. Like I said, silly two-legger.
I spotted my peanut butter scooby snacks. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, I love peanut butter scooby snacks. They were just the thing I needed. So I ate some. And then I ate some more. And then more. And then that dumpster cat came too close, so I ate some more. I was quite like Templeton at the fair. By the time the two-legger got home, I had eaten about 3 pounds of that tasty delicious snack. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Went for a walk, dropped a big bomb. Boy, that helped make a little room. Went inside and took a good long nap. The beating was totally worth it.
Here's where it starts to get ugly. At about 10:00 the two-legger went to bed. I roamed in and laid down on the floor. Just couldn't quite get my ass up onto that bed she sleeps on. At 1:30 I tried to wake the two-legger up. She told me to go lay down and be quiet. So I threw up on the floor in the hall. That got her out of bed. At 2:15 I tried to wake her up again. This time she took me outside, but I didn't need to throw up just then, so I waited until after she was back in bed. Then I let it fly in the spare bedroom. While she was busy cleaning that up, I let it fly two more times. She wasn't very happy. I think maybe she almost felt sorry for me. Except she kept saying "serves you right" and things like that. Whatever. Just 'cause she can't eat 3 pounds of her favorite thing shouldn't make her bitter. It was mostly worth the beating.
She walked me in the morning and I didn't throw up at all. So the two-legger went to work. Hey, somebody's got to put bread on the table. I threw up a little bit in the living room. Hey, she should have stayed home with me. I was sick. By the time she got home, there were other rumblings going on. And it wasn't good. She got me out the door just in time. My ass exploded. Really, I don't think it's polite to keep saying "Oh, sweet mother of god, are you dying?" in a time like that. By Friday night I felt much better. The two-legger thought I learned my lesson. It was definitely not worth the beating.
Whatever. Stupid two-legger didn't move the bin. So today I ate a bag of Breath Busters. Hey, at least tomorrow my bombs will be minty fresh. Wait. Maybe it won't take until tomorrow. Quick, where's the two-legger?!?!?!
Oh dear god. This isn't going to be good.
Love,
Pooh King
PS... I think I might have an eating disorder. What's this thing about bingeing and purging?
7 comments:
Hey there, two-legger....... how about not buying scoobies for a week or so? Step away from the bulk scoobie food vat and give the guys guts and brain and thumbs a rest already!!!!!!!!
Nothin' like getting your money's worth out of the old pet deposit though....
:c}
The scoobies were previously purchased and transported here from Klamath Falls. I have not purchased scoobies in Farmville. Must spend down the current stock.
I have to ask, when did you take the advanced expression course that came up with :c} ???
Girl please.........
This week should have shown you CLEARLY that I have friends with skills, and I can plagerize with the best of them!
Hope my grand-puppy is feeling better now and adhering to the Dog Whisperers belief that dogs live in the moment, not regreting the past.
We created a beast when we talked dad into getting her first computer. Remember she couldn't even email now she is messing with emoticons????? Who took our mother and who is the alien at her keyboard.
P.S. This is Lexington. You go fatboy, Dad left a box of orbits gum on the table and it was goood. I like chewing gum. And two days ago I decided the four peaches on the windowsill were ripe so I got to them first, but was smart enough not to eat those hard things in the middle. My ass exploded too but I couldn't stop wiggling. I like peaches!
oh Pooh King!
At least your mommy is admiting to your eating dysorder now.
Teva says you need to cover your tracks better. Like don't throw up. And start blaming the cat
ROFLMAO
as if the letter from Pook King wasn't enough,..
you guys are priceless.
LOL
There's a reason why we call labs "opportunist, garbage dogs". Except that yours siezes the opportunity with treats and it's your cat that used the garbage to be rescued. Come on Tiff, look at how cute/pathetic/remorseful Pooh looks........how could you be mad at that wittle little cutie pie face??? ~Amy~
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