Sh-sh-sh. Promise you won’t tell. If you do tell, I will be in my crate for a month….and I, Most Magnificent Max, the rescued canine wants none of that mess.
I just wanted you to know that what the DebLady says about me is not true. She thinks I am “not quite right” but I think that is quite wrong. I bring her glad tidings of great joy. I bring her the mail…sorted and in chunks. I organize her books…and remove the covers if they look tacky. I recycle all plastic by chewing as fast as I can. I chase the cat so she gets regular exercise. I trim the bushes to lessen the yard work. And now…this.
Holiday decorations! I saw her hauling them in over the weekend. She has a lot of stuff! I sat there and knew right then that this was going to take me into overtime. How in the world does she expect me to chew up one artificial tree, drag garland through the house, plus unwrap all of the gifts?? A dog only has so many hours in a day. Combine that with chasing Harper, barking at the mailman, and pulling down the curtains—my day is full!
This lady is making me crazy! All I ever hear is “MAX! Why did you tear up the pillows? Max…why did you chew up the markers and the dish towel??” Never one word of thanks or a doggie treat. Just that constant yammering about why I did this or that. You want to know WHY I did all of those things? Because you left them out for me while you were gone all day. Are you a moron or what? Dogs chew. We chomp. We break things down from a finished and complete state to the original. Consider us canine engineers. Jeesh! Why is this so hard to understand?
Well, I had better hurry up. DebLady will be back in here and I don’t want her to know we talked. A dog has to vent, you know. I thought about calling the Dog Whisperer but I did not feel like whispering—I wanted to yell! I am under so much pressure to keep this house in shape.
And now this. All of these extra doodads sitting around just begging to be covered in dog slobber and teeth marks. I hope that Santa Paws still brings me all that is on my list. I deserve those steak bones and bacon treats.
Being the Most Magnificent Max is not easy. I only want to be appreciated and loved for all the extra that I do on her behalf.
Okay…I’m done. If I can’t figure out how to post this blog, I will just chew up her laptop and blame it on the cat.
And if that doesn’t work….I am just going to blame it on you. She won’t smack you with a newspaper.