Sometimes my mom goes away. And she doesn’t take me with her! How can she do that?
I tell her it makes me so sad. Then I walk her over to the treat box. That’s when I smile and tell her a treat will make me happy. She always gives me a big treat.
My favorite treat is peanut butter inside a bone. I lick and lick to get all the peanut butter out. Well, maybe my favorite is a chewy bone. I can eat the whole thing. I lick and lick and lick and chew and chew and chew. Or, maybe my favorite is the peanut butter doggy cookie. Or the…gosh, I love all my treats.
It takes a long time to eat my treat. After that I always take a nap. I sleep and sleep. And I dream about the treat I just ate. And maybe Mom will give me a treat when she gets home. And she’ll give me pets too. Lots of pets and cuddles.
I’d wake up if a burglar tried to break in. Or if someone rang the doorbell. But no burglars ever come. That makes Mom happy. And the doorbell hardly ever rings. I don’t even get to bark at the cars and delivery trucks driving down the road. I can’t hear them. They’re too far away. That’s ‘cause the road is far away. It’s all the way at the end of our long, long country lane.
So, I just eat my treat and sleep. There’s not much else to do. At least not until Mom comes home. Maybe I’ll even get another treat then.