I Want to Be a Dog

This has been coming for a long time. I have always been a big fan of my Aunt Louie's dog Casey. "Woof" was one of the first consistent sounds I made. I have a beautiful, soft head of hair. I'm fast on my hands and knees. I do not like wearing pants so I can easily pee and poop on the floor.  I often drool all over the place. I am super cute. There really is no denying it: I was meant to be a dog.

I still don't have quite the vocabulary to express it to my parents verbally, so I've been giving them plenty of cues. Whenever we are with Casey, I make sure to drink out of her bowl. I also like to play with her toys. When we are not with Casey, I simply dump whatever food I am given on the floor and then eat it there. Bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats (no milk--Mom has picked up on my patterns)? Dump it on the floor. Mac and cheese? Dump it on the floor. Granola bar? Crumble it up and dump it on the floor. I tried dumping some water on the floor today also, but that didn't work out as well.

It's just the way I roll. I'd rather get down on my hands and knees and eat with my butt up in the air. I want to be a dog. They are drooly, lazy, and awesome.

Throw a stick for me!  Woof.