Art

Sometimes I make art. I like using found objects and deconstructing them down to their elements. Mom and Dad don't approve of my art, but I think they just don't appreciate the time and work that goes into it. Mom says tennis balls are now only for "supervised play," which means I can't have them all the time anymore. Before, I couldn't figure out how to deconstruct these special tennis balls so I could chew on them all the time, but since I got the hang of it I went through and chewed all the ones we had that Mom didn't rescue. I think it's silly that Mom won't let me have them alone anymore. Now we can only play fetch with them and I have to bring them back to her when we're done. Where's the fun in that?

Training has been a blast, though, because now I get cheese while training. Mom gets cheese in a can and I get to lick it whenever she clicks. Right now we're working on retrieving and "presenting," which I guess means I have to drop what I bring back in front of Mom. I would much rather play keep-away or tug, though, so this isn't much fun, except for the cheese. The cheese makes it great. When I remember there's cheese involved, I get very good at this game. I guess I should be, being a Labrador RETRIEVER and all, even if Mom calls me a Labramutt instead.

The cat and I have been getting along a lot better. He doesn't run from me all the time and mostly is okay with me licking his ears. He plays with my feet sometimes and sometimes he runs out and bats at my face and then runs away. And then Dad gets mad at me for chasing him. He was so asking for it! The cat still isn't that much fun to play with. I'm still waiting for that friend you promised me, Mom...