I am one spoiled dog. I've lived with the Andersons for almost 2 years now, and I get fed, watered, brushed (see below), and hunted more than you can ever imagine. I am such a prissy dog, it's amazing that Jerry thinks I'm a great hunting dog. But, hmmm... what's a dog to do on those long days that I spend in the backyard, just dreaming of pheasants??
Dig, dig, and more digging. Julie isn't too fond of me, and it makes her even more angry when I bury one of the treats she gives me... just like I'm doing now. This corner is my so-called treat pile. What would you like? I've got rawhides, bones, and all kinds of good things stashed here!
This is my beloved doghouse (or cell) and I have a secret. One of these days I'm going to escape. Never mind the fact that this family has a view-out basement... I'll just dig under it. =)
The humans think that throwing my own poop in the hole will deter me... actually it makes me even more determined. I can kick up the dirt and rocks with the best of them, and the humans have talked about how loud of a noise it makes... my ferocious digging splattering their clean windows. I will escape!!
Now if I only had a poster-sized picture from
The Pointing Dog Journal to cover my work... then it would all be good!
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