Sometimes I Wish I Was A Puppy

I was looking out the window, watching the puppies play. The thought occurred to me that these little fellows have a pretty good life. We feed them, we brush their hair, we bathe them, we play with them, we rub their bellies, we spoil them, we give them toys and treats, we pick up their poop, we clean up their house. They sleep whenever they want, they play whenever they want, they look at us with those big puppy eyes and twirl us around their paws. If they decide that a meal is not to their liking, we rake our brains trying to find a more appetizing menu for those little discriminating tastes. Sometimes I wish I was a puppy. A puppy that someone would love and cuddle, and try to fulfill my every wish. (Good husbands do their best, but I do find that they let the dogs get away with more than they would ever let their wives get away with, and not whine and complain.) Yet, there are usually more advantages to being a human, so I will be content with my place in the universe. And, of course, enjoy unconditional love from Rusty and Smoky!

These little rascals really know how to have a GOOD TIME!