Coal In My Stocking

Okay, enough.

I'm so serious about this adoption thing that I'm running away tonight, with good cause, as set forth below:

Yesterday, we again get dragged up to the kennels and put into the fenced-in pasture while he plays with the pups, takes Paris for a walk, takes Gaia for a walk, takes Baylo for a walk, takes Murray (come on Louie was a much better name) for a walk, and generally disregards us for several hours. I'm at an utter loss over this go up to the kennels so he can play with other Newfies!!!! Aunt Heidi is witness to this cruel and unusual punishment. So, as you can see, the ride home was rather depressing. (Is it true vets prescribe Prozac for dogs?)

Then, today, in some sort of sadistic, humanistic ritual, he puts collars with bells on us and "Santa" hats and takes pictures so the whole world can view our humiliation and degradation. I'd have preferred two slabs of coal in a stocking. And he thinks I'm showing this weekend when Andrew has a hall pass? Ha!!

Tonight, I'm packing up my stuff, putting a leash on Andrew, and getting out of here. I'm not sure where we're going but anywhere else must be better (not them kennels though).


Sigh,

Satchie