Who Loves Me?

Have you seen those dog signs that read "Forget the Dog, Beware of the Human"? If Preacher could have a motto it would be just that. He is Netty's trusty sidekick on the job, loading containers. If looks could talk, Preacher's presence would snap at everyone to chop-chop, hurry up, or I'll sick my human on you!

Really, he's just a jelly bean who melts under your hand. I mean, just look at that face. It says "I'm so neglected. Love me. Please."

Look, he's so sad! As sprawled out as he possibly could in the front passenger seat as if he owns it. Oh, the poor guy. Yeah, nobody loves him.

Here he is, looking spiffy and proper on the job.

Mmmmm, I smell cream soda... root beer... orange soda...

Yo, soda boy, give me a drink! Love me? Please?

Sonya, Please!

Everyday at about 4:30pm Sonya and I go for a walk. Today, it was 4:47pm and POURING down pea-size drops of rain. But of course Sonya doesn't know that just by looking out the window. It's weird how she recognizes people through the window, but can't tell that it's raining.

Uh, Netty, do you know what time it is?

That's right, it's time for our walk...

I must find out who's been in the neighborhood this morning...

Ah, if I could just catch that pesky squirrel today...

Come on Netty, turn off the computer and get off the couch. Those wonderful smells don't last forever you know.

Come on, do I have to pry you off the couch myself?

Sonya, no, get off!

But it's time to go already. Let's go!

I wish I could get my point across to her in English. "Sonya, it's pouring down rain, and you know how horrified you are of the rain. It's makes you melt, remember?"

Unfortunately, all Sonya hears is "blah blah blah blah blah blah... No!... Hummanah, hummanah, hummanah... Lie down!"

Hmph! Lazy Netty. See if cooperate with you during obedience training... Hmph!

"Oh, Sonya. Time for training."

"Sonya, come!"

"I said 'Sonya, come'!"

"Do you hear me? I said 'come'!"

"Oh for Pete's sake, have you gone deaf Sonya?!"

La-la-lala-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...

"Sonya, would you please come here? Pretty please with string cheese on top?"

La-la-lala-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...

Oh, I'm daydreaming about pesky squirrels... little white terrorist dogs... what hunk has been to the fire hydrant recently... Hmmm, I wonder what's for dinner?

Sonya, PLEEEEEEASE...

Ahhh, the Freedom of Running

Once, Sonya got loose. She ran off without so much as a glance back, as if it was a jail break, and this was her only chance at freedom. (Well, it probably was...) Thirty minutes later, we found her, hunched, standing on her tippy toes at a house two blocks away. She just stood there, frozen, refusing to move. Finally, with a little bit of cheeze - Sonya eats as if she were food deprived - she was coaxed into the car, slowly, plainfully, on her tippy toes. She had run so fast and so hard that she tore the pads off her feet!

The point of the story is that she loves to run. Or, is it that she runs to get free... Oh, whatever. Running is breaking loose. Running is freedom.

Just look at that grin on her face. It says "Yippee!"

Sonya runs so fast...

She loves to stretch out her legs.

Oh, wait! what's that smell?

"Drasted squirrels have been peeing in my field!"

"What, that kid? I'm not even going to bother. He ain't sharin' his Snickers bar..."

"Wait, there's another smell... hmmm, it smells like food..."

(Have I mentioned that Sonya craves food like one who hasn't eaten in a long time?)

"Yum, that tasted kinda... foody..."

Yippeeeeeee! Ruuuuuuuun!

Stretch those legs!

"Watch me, watch me! I can run faaaaaast!"

"Uh, what's this... MUD?!"

"Ewwww, yuck, mud..."

"I just had a pedicure. Ewww mud!"

"Can we go home now?"