Woof. Bark. Bow-wow.
*clearing throat - switching to human*
Hey there, dudes. Reggie here. I decided to write this blog post today. What? What's so weird about a puppy writing a blog post? It's not weird. I'm sure hundreds of pups do it every day. I even hear there's a dog who wrote a whole story. Now that's impressive.
Don't you even want to know why I'm saying hello to the internet today?
Because I can, bitches!
Uh-oh. My human mom tells me that I'm not supposed to swear on here. I think that's rather hypocritical, don't you? She swears like a sailor. And besides, bitches is a legitimate word in my world.
So here's why I can write a blog post today. Both of my front paws are free. I got the cast off today!!
Now I know my left foot looks kind of wimpy and frail here, but it'll get stronger. Because I'm a bone and muscle growing machine. Obviously. Check out these x-rays:
The quality of these pictures aren't great, but here's what they show:
Them bonez be heeld. 4 reelz.
(I tried to write like the animals do at I can has cheezburger, but no way, dude. That makes me crazy, I can't do it anymore. I clearly have a much greater intellect than those goofy kitties.)
I'm glad to have that cast off. It was heavy and I kept clanking things on it. My human mom kept getting mad at me if I plunked it down onto her toes while she was wearing flip flops. Poor baby. A little bump on the toe. I have no sympathy for her - she should try having four broken bones!!
The cast was also smelly, and they put this vile tasting no-chew wrap on it. Good riddance.
I would like to lodge a formal complaint, though. Will you readers help me? You see, just because I got a teeny bit excited and wanted to lick my leg now that the cast is off of it, the vet suggested I wear this thing:
*photo of Reggie in a cone collar:
I am not amused. I thought my human mom would have my back and take it off for me once we got home. After all, she loves me and I have her completely at my beck and call, and she understands me! I mean, she was a thumb sucker until she was 12 years old, for crying out loud, and nobody made her wear a dumbass cone.
But no. She agrees with the vet. Well then. If that's how it's going to be, I'll just bite her face off with these really scary teeth of mine:
*photo of Reggie in the cone with his mouth open, teeth showing:
Hmm. That didn't work. Stupid cone prevents biting people's faces off. Now what?
*photo of Reggie in the cone:
I look so stupid in this thing, I can't even face you. How embarrassing.
*photo of Reggie in the cone, looking away:
I know what to do! I'll poop on the floor the next time she lets me out of my kennel. And chew up one of her favorite sandals. That'll show her!
But I'm not going to smile and look cute for her. No way. Uh-uh. I'm mad.
Oh, snap. I can't stay mad at her! She gave me two cut up hotdogs as a treat when we got home from the vet. I adore that woman.
*photo of Reggie with the cone and a reasonably amiable expression:
Now. Will someone tell her to stop taking pictures of me with her phone while driving down the street? That chick is crazy.