Storm....

Droopy

Storms a coming. Buddy's been crazy the last couple of days. The wind has not made him a happy camper. Now my leg is a twitching. Storm must be coming. I don't like storms. Buddy gets in a tizzy and I get all hyped up and H1 starts a hollarin' at us to settle down. Which doesn't work.

Why does H1 think I'm going to listen when Buddy is in a tizzy. Doesn't she know Buddy runs the show. She's only our pet... errr... I mean human. Buddy is in charge of us canine. He barks we listen, he snaps we surrender, he stirs, we jump, he flies into a tizzy, I fly into a tizzy. No one else does though. Just Buddy and I.

I look up to Buddy. Well that's not really hard. Buddy does tower over me. I used to be the shortest dog on the farm that is until Ralph the Mouth joined us. I was also the lowest in the pecking order until Ralph the Mouth. It's funny that everyone thinks I'm part of the pecking order around this place. Don't they know I march to the beat of my own drum. Except when Buddy's leading or talking.

I get away with a lot around here. I've got the corner marketed on easy street. All you have to do is snuggle up to H2 and H1 lets everything slide... I mean it too... easy street. Just don't let my friends catch on as to how I do it!