The other day I found a dead bird delectably wrapped in fermenting sea weed at Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester. I did what any smart dog would do. I stopped, dropped, and rolled. It is the same steps you use when you are on fire, except you can be more leisurely about it since you aren’t on fire. I was excited about this new smell and I wanted to make sure I showed all my friends and my parents what I had found and I wanted to remember it. That’s when my mom said, “Come get your dog!”
Then my dad said, “Oh, now he’s my dog?” I was confused. I didn’t know that I was anybody’s dog. I thought I was with both of them.
Later that day I heard my dad say, “I guess I’ll take ‘my dog’ for a walk.” I figured at least my dad wanted me.
Two days ago I was executing this off-the-hook trick I know. My parents call it the “Down-Stay-Bang-Good Boy.” When I was done my mom said, “Who’s my good boy?” I wasn’t really sure at this point because it seemed like she wanted me to be my dad’s dog the other day. I nailed the trick again for a few more fans of mine in downtown Salem and I heard one of them tell my mommy, “That is a cute dog you have.” My mom said, “Yes, he is MY good boy.” Does she want me or not want me? When we got home from my brief walk my mom said to my dad (who didn’t want to go with me), “You should’ve seen your dog downtown.”
That night I was trying to help my dad cook dinner. I peeked at the counter to see what I could help with and my dad yelled, “Come get your dog!” to my mommy.
I’m not sure what is happening at this point. My mom went to a state called, “Virginia” for a couple of days to work with people’s integrations on computers. It was going to be my dad and me at the casa, but he sent me to daycare for some of the time. My good friend, Sally, came to get me and my dad said, “He’s all yours.”
More on this later as the situation continues to develop…
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