I Did A Bad, Bad Thing

Dear Gavin,

The day began so nice. Gramma had good sleep and we played on her bed while she made it. I like to jump onto the bed while she tries to pull the covers straight and get under them. She pulls me out and we do this over and over again until she claps her hands and says "Enough!!". That is my signal to stop and let her finish making the bed and putting all the pillows on it. Then I jump upon the bed again and run in circles while Gramma laughs at me. It is our thing. Just me and Gramma. The other dogs can't jump up on the bed and, as you know, Papa does not make beds.

We did our thing this morning and then Gramma had her coffee. She asked Papa to please get the mower into our back yard so she could mow. I was really happy to hear this, cause the grass in our yard is getting pretty tall, let me tell you! Makes it hard for a fella to do his business! But, you may be wondering why Papa had to get the mower into the backyard. Well, the wind was blowing so hard the other day that it took the gate down and Papa nailed it shut. Gramma cannot open the gate to bring the mower in. I will tell you a secret that Papa does not know. Gramma tried to bring the mower through the house, but it was too wide to get through the doorway in the kitchen. Gramma thought about turning it on it's side, but she was afraid she would get gas on the floor. That would not be good. Gramma has been a little hazardous with all things related to fires lately.

So, Papa goes off to work and Gramma and us dogs go into the back yard. Gramma cleaned a section at a time and then mowed with the blade high, then again with the blade low. I must admit that she does a fine job mowing. But the clean up part is where I got in trouble. Gramma had some of those handy dandy WalMart bags in her pocket. She put one over her hand and held the other one in the other hand while she put all the things that dog, Zeek, had chewed up in his short stay here. She also picked up our poop. She was singing this song about tootsie rolls and laughing. She likes to make up songs, you know. Oscar says she has been doing this for as long as he can remember. He says the tootsie roll song is one of her favorites to sing while she is on poop patrol. Whatever it is I think I see becomes a tootsie roll to me .......... then she laughs. But back to my little escapade ...........

I thought since she was in such a good mood that she might enjoy a little game. She had been throwing the frisbee for me and had complimented me on my ability to run with it in my mouth. Oscar cannot do this ........ his legs are way too short and he ends up tripping himself. I was so happy to be outside and playing games that I got a little carried away. Gramma was holding the handy dandy WalMart bag full of poop and I jumped up and grabbed it. Apparently this is not a good thing to do. I sort of ripped the bag open and all the poop and trash fell to the ground and before I could stop myself I took a little roll in it.

Yes, I knew I shouldn't, but I have impulses. Sometimes I just can't help myself. Gramma is no longer singing. She is not very happy with me and I had to have a bath. Did you know that I get way more baths than Oscar and Emmy? This is just not fair! The sky is even unhappy and it looks like it is going to rain. I wish you were here to play with me and the frisbee. I will show you how great I am at that game when I see you this summer. I suppose I will just go take a nap now that Gramma is so grouchy. When she gets grouchy, us dogs get grouchy, too!

Your grouchy dog, Wall-E