The Dog

Hi, I’m Baylor!


I’m The Dog* this writer so frequently** refers to. The furry little sidekick.

*The Dog. Little Dog. Little Chunk (I take offense to this). Little Despondent (when I don’t get a walk). Little Crazy (after a bath). Trailor (my loving uncle’s favorite name for me).
**Actually, I take issue with the frequency – or lack thereof – of mentions about me. Seriously. Half the time I’m sitting
right at her feet when she’s writing anyway – could I BE any more noticeable? HelLOOOOOOO?! Sigh.

No, I am not a Cockapoo, or a Maltese. I am a Pekeapoo (Pekingese  + poodle), supposedly “rescued” from a life of misery and boredom with my former owner (this is what my mother tells me) but I often wonder. I’m pretty bored.

I like squirrels, rawhide bones, anything squeaky (the louder, the better!) and cats. I dislike the sound of popping bubblegum, bath time and listening.

What’s that? How often am I going to be posting? Um… I didn’t hear you. I’m just going to lie here in utter defeat and boredo…

SQUIRREL?! Where? I’m gonna get ‘im, oh my god I’m so excited where is he where is he where is he I have to pee I forgot my bone if only I could get outside look a bird no where’s the squirrel I wanna chase ‘im just let me OUT, Mama!

I don’t see a squirrel…nothing is happening. I sense trickery but I can’t be sure. I suppose he got away so I’ll just lie here and take my frustration out on my favorite bone and forget the whole thing in 15 minutes.

A dog’s life is pretty simple like that.


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