Treat Junkie

I have to admit to something here on my blog.

I have taken to crying and crying to go outside to go to the bathroom, when I really do not have to go at all, in the hopes that I will get a treat when I get back in. Those damn Trader Joes treats must have some sort of drug in them, because I am hooked.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for Brad and Julie to catch on to my stunt. Now most of the time I get an ice cube. The nerve I tell you! Get me hooked on these treats and then punish me when I try to find ways to get more of them!

That annoying effer who lives next door and barks and barks his fool head off day and night has a little hitch in his giddy up. His owners got him a shock collar. I cannot deny that I have had a few chuckles at his bark/yelp, but lest you think I am a complete bastard (although shiny coated and magnificent) I do actually feel sorry for him.

You see, his owners neglect him, and while he may be an effer and the cause of my two blown out ear flaps, my feeble heart goes out to his predicament. You can better believe that I Howard would need a shock collar if Brad and Julie left me out in the elements to fend for myself, and ignored my need for companionship.

Any of you humans out there that are thinking about getting a puppy and showering your love upon the puppy while he is young and cute, and then throwing him out in the backyard to neglect when he is a little older and not as cute and cuddly, think again. My species, while very loyal and rewarding, is a lot of work. As high maintenance as I am, I should know.