Dog Diary — End of Week 2 of My New Life

“Sara: Still Fabulous, Slightly Unhinged, Now With Carob”

Dear Diary,

This week has been a masterclass in snack acquisition, strategic laziness, and power negotiation.

The woman has been hunting the Holy Grail of treats. I rejected salmon. I rejected peanut butter. Bone broth? Puh-lease. But then… kangaroo. Glory. Divine. Absolutely worthy. Also, blueberries are fine. But the game-changer? CAROB.
Diary, I will literally do anything for carob. Do you hear me? ANYTHING.

The humans tried to teach me “how to dog” by buying me a snuffle mat.
I was meh. I sniffed. I sighed. Then… CAROB.
Suddenly, I am a professional snuffler. Humans are now planning “Operation: Small Increments of Being Left Alone”, which apparently means more carob for me. I don’t know what this “operation” entails, but the carob is real, so I approve.

The woman from the pet shop—my fairy godmother—gave me a free licky mat. I am too refined to attempt such a lowly object. I sniffed it disdainfully and walked away. She also gave me Nexguard because I am special, obviously.

Walks continued, except on two days when it was “too hot.” Diary… isn't it 23 degrees everywhere, just like inside the house? Logic fails me. Regardless, I still look majestic.

Humans discovered that I scratch my side when nervous. Good thing nail-trimming continues, otherwise my teradactyl claws would be a menace. The woman says my cuts have healed nicely, which is good because it would be a shame for them to heal and be mean to anyone. 

Every morning begins the same way: belly rubs.
This is non-negotiable. 

I supervised the humans while they mowed. I was invited to observe outside but elected to remain inside, away from 30-degree-plus-heat-from-hell doom. Supervising is hard work, Diary, and the job is never done.

I discovered the deck this week. Plants! So many plants! Enchanting! I’ve mastered climbing up and down stairs. I tried to jump when I saw the woman on the deck, but my legs, though majestic, are short. She reminded me about the stairs. Lesson learned.

Earlier this week, I attempted a daring escape to China via digging. The woman had to scoop me up mid-dig, because Diary… I was fast. Faster than a caffeinated kangaroo. Faster than Kevin Bacon's dancing feet in Footloose. You get the idea. I have decided to give up digging to China because the woman says I probably wouldn't like it there very much, there's not many belly rubs. She is wise, I trust her. 

Saturday began with a scratch to the ear… and suddenly I was off to the vets!
I got a little scared, but Luke man held me and I glued myself to him. The woman promised all would be well. And it was! Upon returning, I was rewarded with kangaroo bones with marrow and a new goat horn for bravery. Somehow, I’ve lost 2kg since my last vet visit, but everyone - even the vet - said I looked much better and healthy. The vet marvelled at my shiny, soft coat. I think she is jealous but we only do faux fur in this house. 

Sunday was devoted to maximum snuggles in the humans’ bed, then on the lounge with Luke man. Then came the "bird bath" (like prison, apparently). They only washed my underbelly and feet to evict the freeloading bacteria because they didn't want to get my ear wet. Might get a tattoo next week.

Today, the woman took me for a walk. Midway, I decided I was a princess and could no longer walk. She carried me almost the entire way back. Naturally.

Humans are also aware my hearing has improved. Now I simply ignore them when they call my name. They think it’s training. I call it artistry.

Sara
Queen of Snacks
Princess of Laziness
Duchess of Dramatic Eye Rolls