Thursday, May 14, 2009

What Are Taxes?

Dear Gavin,

Gramma is feeling a little better. She still says she feels dizzy and sometimes she accidentally steps on us. We are all trying to stay out of her way. She was going to mow today, but she said she might fall, then mow herself. I thought that would look so funny. I was laughing about it until Emmy told me to shut up. She said that if the mower went over Gramma it would cut her all up. Boy, did I feel dumb. I wouldn't want Gramma to get hurt. Who would love me and take care of me?

So, since Gramma can't go outside, she has been working on tax papers. I do not know what these taxes are, but it sure does make every body crabby. Oscar says that when Gramma and Papa start talking about the tax papers it would be best to get in my kennel and stay out of sight. What ever taxes are, I know this one thing--taxes do not make people happy!

Papa was outside working in the park and he came in to wash blood off of his hand!! Gramma said, "What did you do?". And Papa said, "I jammed a screwdriver almost all the way through my hand." Gramma watched him wash it. She wanted to bandage it, but he went back out to work. Gramma said it made the arches of her feet hurt just to think about it. I looked at her with one ear up and one ear down. She said that she was hurting because she felt bad for Papa's pain. People sure are funny.

Gramma bought me a new toy. She tried to take a picture of it, but I kept grabbing it and running under the table with it. She said, "I give up." It is...or, I guess I should say was... a rubber chicken. I kind of chewed it up and now it doesn't have any feet. Oscar chewed on it, too. We played tag and tug of war with it. We had a great time, we really did. Only now the chicken doesn't have a head. Gramma laughed and laughed when she saw it. At first I was afraid that we might all be in trouble. But Gramma told me that she got it for me to chew and that she expected me to chew it up. She told me that I could chew up my toys, but not Papa's shoes. Gosh, I thought that maybe she had forgotten about that. She remembers every thing, doesn't she?

Speaking of that rubber chicken, I have some more chewing to do. Maybe if I finish chewing this one up Gramma will buy me another one! So, good night, my boy. Have sweet dreams and don't foget that I love you

Your faithful dog, Wall-E