Grandma is here for another visit. Even though I was very happy to see her, I didn’t jump. Well, to tell the truth, I would have jumped, but Mom was holding my collar. But soon I calmed down and got a treat for not jumping, so it all worked out for the best.
Dad says Grandma has “dementia”. That’s a big word for a dog, but I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why Grandma acts like a young pup one minute and an old dog the next. It makes Dad and Mom very sad to see. I try to cheer them up. Mom says Grandma is from “The Greatest Generation”, and I know that has something to do with history from Jamie. Jamie knows all about “The Greatest Generation” because he loves history, and always has his snout in a book about it.
Speaking of Jamie, I can’t jump on him, either, because he slept on his pillow funny last night and now he is walking around with his head on crooked. I’m afraid to go near him. This is one of the reasons I do not sleep on the humans’ beds. You just never know what’s going to happen up there, and what if you have to make a dash for the front door and get tangled up in blankets and stuffed animals? I know a Greyhound once who was sleeping on a human bed and fell two feet to the floor when she rolled over. Nearly broke a leg. Now Jamie is walking around all slouched to one side. No, sir, beds are horrible places. The middle of the kitchen floor is much safer.
Today was cloudy, wet, and rainy, so naturally I was feeling my most energetic and mischievous. I guess I kind of turn into a rainy day rocket. First, I sneaked around and chewed every pair of shoes I could find. Then, when Mom opened the back door to let some cool breeze in, I bolted out the screen door, ripped around the yard a couple of times right through the mud puddle next to the swing set, then a clear shot back into the kitchen, knocking three magnets off the screen door and sending them flying every which way.
Unfortunately, my paws were wet, and as I came into the kitchen at max velocity “hairy bullet” style, I lost my footing, smacked into a kitchen chair, sending it skidding across the floor, and bumped my head – hard – on the table leg. Dazed, I shook myself, and drops of water flew everywhere. Mom felt sorry for me, even though I got her wet, and felt my head all over for lumps, then gave me a treat.
The middle of the kitchen floor is looking pretty good right about now. I think it might be time to calm down and take a breather!