I feel sorry for my dog sometimes. She's old and lonely and outside of me she has no one to talk to. She sleeps 12 hours a day, which I know sounds like a sweet life, but it's also a sign of depression I'm frequently told by people who tell me I sleep too much.
I look at her and it seems she wants someone to tell her story. Since her owner happens to have the platform to deliver her story, he was happy to turn the keyboard over for a day in the life of an old fat dog.
I woke up with the usual routine, yawn, stretch, then go to the bathroom - on the dining room floor. The tall, white guy was reluctant to wake up so I jumped on him. For a second I thought I might have killed him and hid under the bed to avoid the police, but eventually his weird two-legged walk sounded under the bed and told me he was fine. For breakfast, the tall, white guy gave me, SURPRISE, Kibbles and Bits … again … for the 10,376th day in a row. Does he not know how to make an omelet? After he went to work, or wherever he goes everyday - he keeps telling me it's work, but I have no proof of that - the day got pretty exciting for me. First, I chewed on some shoes. Then, I laid on the air conditioning vent and finally, I designed an elaborate miniature-golf course throughout the entire house only to realize I have no thumbs to operate my makeshift putter. I was heartbroken. That's four hours of my life I'll never get back. To console myself, I read and took a nap. When I woke up, the tall, white guy was back complaining about his day, as if he designed an entire putt-putt golf course only to have his dreams smashed. For dinner, the guy served up quite a treat … Kibbles and Bits, but for dessert I swiped a tub of butter off the counter. I may be a little past my prime, but I can still move like a young Rin-tin-tin. Before I knew it, it was time for bed again. Of course, I have no sense of time, nor the knowledge of how to read a clock so that happens a lot. The tall, white guy popped in a special movie he keeps under his bed. It must have been terrible though because he only watched it for about thirty seconds. I crawled under the bed to go to sleep and dream sweet doggy dreams of miniature golf and independence from the tall white guy's tyranny.
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