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my spoiled brat

So you don't want to play with me, huh? You think you can get away with going to Raleigh two days in a row and then stay inside 3/4 of the next day doing housework and when you do come outside you only play with me a little bit before feeding those squawking things. And you think that's going to cut it?

I'll show you.

 Your grill cover...you just thought I chewed on it before.


 And your camellia bush that is finally blooming? I'll not only prune the bottom half of it, I'll knock of most of the blooms as well.

 And that huge flower pot that took two bags of dirt to fill and has held your dead tomato vine for all of my life? I'll not only finally mess with it, I'll empty it in the driveway and attempt to drag all my toys through the dirt after it rains.  And then I'll chew apart the connectors on the hose pipe...just for fun!


 
But this?  This I do not understand.
 

You bring home these little squeaky things but won't let me play with them. I even climbed on my dog house so I could climb on top of the box and drool, and you moved my igloo away. You put this bright light beside the squeaky things that has a nice red cord attached to it, but you yell at me when I unplug it and begin to chew the prongs apart. And if that's not crazy enough, every time I start to bite the wood cover off so I can get to my new toys, you yell like a maniac. And then you go and powder the entire area around them with the red stuff you know I hate.

I don't care if you did play with me for 15 minutes outside in the cold. You are not my favorite anymore. I do not care if my whole life I have always come to you for petting first, and if you looked my way no matter who or what I was playing with I dropped it for you, I will no longer even look your way. Especially now that you moved my squeaky toys inside the house where I am not allowed to go. Red pepper is one thing. Stealing my toys...this means war. If you thought the shredded phone books and dead bream and the mole in the garage where something, just wait. I am Buster, and I'm in charge.
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Jennifer said…
too funny...too cute
February 26, 2013 at 9:59 AM
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