Sometimes being man’s best friend is a ruff gig. Training and caring for my humans is an arduous but rewarding process. I alone am responsible for ensuring they get their daily walks. I never know when they might dare to run errands without me to protect them, or eat food without first using my keen nose to inspect it. They never acknowledge that a mere drizzle of my drool adds so much flavor. I feel that it’s wrong to keep such deliciousness to myself.
Will my humans care for me with the same level of commitment when I have hip dysplasia? Of course they will. Look at this face. What’s not to love? Genetic disorders aside, I dream of the day the humans reward me for my excellence by presenting me with the coveted red, white and blue Best in Show award.
I’m a purebred, registered stud with a balanced gait and glistening champagne coat.
My fragrant post-bath aroma makes humans rethink their definitions of wet-dog smell.
When you ask me to play dead, I break out my guitar and play “Casey Jones.”
To err is human; to forgive, canine.
- Chomps McGee
Love is a four-legged word.
- Paws Woofland
Life is ruff. Get a lab.
- Yours truly, Sandy Barkley