Monday, October 17, 2005

I Didn't Mean To. By Gus.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I didn't mean to do it, I swear. I don't know what came over me. It's just all this new stuff in the house is kinda freakin' me out. For two days, you had strange men in the house. I watched 'em real close like and they were up to no good. I don't know if you noticed, but those men took all the carpet out of the living room and dining room! Just picked it up and walked out with it! Do you have any idea how much time I invested in marking those carpets with my special scent? Do you?!
Then, then! That awful machine! I don't know whose big idea it was to grind up the concrete, but shutting me up in my room was not going to make my ears hurt any less. That machine could've killed us all! It was critical that I alert the masses with my helpful bays. At least the neighbors were warned.
Don't get me started on the floors. What on earth were you thinking putting in slippery, shiny, wood floors when that carpet was perfectly nice? I had just worked it up to the perfect level of "loved." I had left my scent, dragged my itchy end, and wallered myself all over that carpet after a bath. What are you trying to do to me?
After a brief encounter with these new death trap floors, I can promise you that they are not safe. Mom, you know how accident prone you are! How is this possibly a good idea? My legs scribble scrabble everywhere like I'm on skates. And let me tell you....wallering or dragging? No longer an option. You'll find me over on your special rug, you will.
That being said, I still shouldn't have acted out the way I did. I know! But with the full moon and the whole floor shenanigan, the devil just got into me. Dad's work bag was just sitting there and that gum was a-callin'. I carried it to my special rug and went to town. Cardboard, foil, plastic, then finally! Those tasty little nuggets of chew. Um! Those are good. Gave me quite the jaw workout, those 12 pieces of gum. The foil got in my teeth a bit, but I washed it all down with half the cardboard package. All was good until my stomach started to hurt. That's when you got home.
I know I looked all washed up and pathetic - I had the wicked bellyache! But there was no need to pull out that putrid brown bottle of 'roxide. Whenever you take me to the bathtub I know it's bad news bears for 'ol Gus.
I really wanted to hate you when my stomach started lurching, but getting that wad of gum up really cleared up the digestive track, I tell you. I didn't mean to make dad gag like that, it was just gum mixed with puppy chow and stomach acid. Kinda jiggly it was. But again, I am real, real sorry. I don't know what came over me and I'll try extra hard to be a good boy until the next full moon. Promise. For real. No gum.

Love and puppy kisses,

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